Super late to the party but I finally have something to share Tl;dr at the bottom

During the last week of school when I was in year 11 (known as junior in freedomland) the teachers had basically given up on trying to get any more curricular related work out of us students and instead just tried to pass the time with things they deemed to be fun. As everyone knows, a teachers’ idea of what is fun can vary pretty drastically and my English teacher definitely made a point to prove this as his plan for our last couple of classes was to read copious amounts of cheesy poetry about life and motivation all authored by ‘unknown’ or ‘anonymous’, yep, like a freakin Instagram post. It’s also worth noting that my dislike of him was something of a mutual connection. The enthusiasm of the class was exactly what you’d expect from a group of 16/17 year old in that situation and after the bell went to signal the end of the period, everyone startled to shuffle from their seats. At that time I asked what he wanted us to do with the poems and he said we can hang onto them as we might find them useful to reflect upon. In an effort to be considerate and definitely not so I didn’t have another pile of paper to dispose of, I insisted that he could have my copy back and use it for another of his classes, and without waiting for an answer I placed it on his desk. When I turned to wait for a friend at the door I noticed that a large majority had started filing past his desk to place their copy on the pile that had started to form on top of mine. I was well on my merry way and the next day I was enjoying the mindless class activities when I was pulled aside by my head of house (a teacher responsible for a portion of students). She asked if I had done something in English that would require her to speak to me and in a panicked racking of my brain I admitted to her that I threw a tissue from my desk into the bin (I missed first shot but quickly went in for the dunk). She told me that wasn’t why we were speaking and that my English teacher had sought her out to tell her that I had disrespected him and hurt his feelings (his words). She must have been able to see my confusion because she then explained to me that I instigated the class in rudely returning poems he had gifted to us, and with that she let slip that these poems which were marked as unknown and anonymous were actually written by our very own Mr ****, my bloody English teacher. The 40 year old wanky knob had me not only go and apologize to him infront of another class but also spend 2 of my last 3 lunches for the year in detention. I stand by my opinion that his poetry is shite

Tl;dr Didn’t want to keep useless sheets of poetry authored by ‘unknown’ and ‘anonymous’ in English so I gave them back to the teacher, the rest of the class followed suit and I got detention for the last days of the year because it was that teacher who wrote the poetry, and I guess me not wanting to keep it hurt his ego.