My Teacher Called Me A Failure Until The Janitor Said Something That Made Her Blush.

Balancing the Load

Monday morning, my alarm went off at 6:00, and I felt like I had been hit by a truck. Three hours of sleep after a weekend of stress and preparation left me barely functional.

During first period English, I kept nodding off while my teacher discussed symbolism in some novel we were reading. She stopped mid-sentence and asked if I was feeling okay.

I mumbled something about staying up late working on a project, and she gave me a concerned look but moved on. Sitting there fighting to keep my eyes open, I realized I was trying to do too many things at once, and something had to give.

Running a growing business that generated real revenue, fighting academic battles with teachers, and maintaining good grades in all my other classes was not sustainable.

The investor diligence and the school meeting happening on the same day felt like the universe forcing me to choose priorities, but I was not ready to give up on either path yet.

At lunch, I pulled out my phone and drafted an email to Vikram asking if we could push our next scheduled call from Monday evening to Wednesday evening. I explained I had an important school meeting Monday afternoon that I needed to prepare for properly, and I wanted to give both things my full attention rather than rushing through one to get to the other.

I hit send, expecting him to be annoyed about the delay, but his response came back within minutes.

He said Wednesday worked fine and added that seeing me prioritize school commitments actually increased his confidence in my judgment and maturity. Most founders he worked with were so obsessed with their startups they let everything else fall apart, which usually led to bad decisions from exhaustion and tunnel vision.

The response made me feel better about the choice, like maybe protecting my academic standing was not just defensive but actually strategic for long-term credibility. An investor who respected that I took school seriously was probably an investor worth working with.

The Confrontation

Monday afternoon at 3:30, I walked into Joyce Hendricks’ office and found her sitting behind her desk with Mrs. Duran already seated in one of the chairs facing her. Mr. Castillo arrived a minute later and took the seat next to me.

Joyce thanked everyone for coming and explained she wanted to discuss the grading concerns I had raised to see if we could find a resolution that worked for everyone.

Mrs. Duran immediately jumped in, defending her rubric as necessary for AP exam preparation. She said the College Board expected students to show specific types of work and use standard notation, so she had to enforce those requirements strictly to prepare students for the actual test.

I waited for her to finish, then calmly pulled out my comparison documents and walked through three examples where I had correct answers marked wrong.

I showed how my methods were mathematically valid and arrived at the same solutions as the textbook approaches, just using different intermediate steps.

Joyce asked detailed questions about whether the AP exam actually required one specific methodology or just correct answers with clear reasoning. Mrs. Duran admitted the exam did not mandate one particular method, but insisted students needed consistency to avoid confusion, especially weaker students who might get lost trying to learn multiple approaches.

The Compromise

The discussion went back and forth for nearly an hour, with me staying calm and focused on the documentation while Mrs. Duran got increasingly defensive about her teaching methods.

Finally, Joyce held up her hand and proposed a compromise: I could complete a multi-part demonstration assessment that would show I understood the material using both Mrs. Duran’s preferred methods and alternative approaches.

If I could prove genuine understanding through multiple formats, then my grade should reflect that competency rather than just methodology compliance.

The compromise meant three separate assessments over the next two weeks. First, an oral explanation where I would walk through my problem-solving process out loud, answering questions about my reasoning.

Second, a timed written test using Mrs. Duran’s exact format with every step labeled and notated exactly as she demonstrated in class. Third, a lab practical where I would demonstrate applied understanding by actually conducting experiments and analyzing results in real time.

If I passed all three components, Joyce would recalculate my grade to reflect actual competency rather than format compliance. It was definitely more work than just retaking one test, but it also felt fairer than being forced to abandon approaches that worked for how my brain processed problems.

Mrs. Duran agreed to the plan, but her expression made it clear she was not happy about it. Mr. Castillo gave me an approving nod as we left the office.

Gossip and Accusations

By Tuesday morning, the rumor mill had apparently decided I was either a genius entrepreneur or running some kind of scam. I heard whispers in the hallways about how much money I was supposedly making, with wild speculation ranging from a few thousand to millions.

During passing period between second and third period, someone showed me a post on the school’s anonymous gossip app claiming I had paid someone else to build my app and was just taking credit for their work.

The accusation stung badly because I had written every single line of the original code myself, spending hundreds of hours learning frameworks, debugging problems, and iterating on features.

Tiana found me between third and fourth period looking stressed and told me she had already posted a response on the app explaining that she used my tutoring service and it was completely legitimate and helpful.

She said several other students had backed her up in the comments, but I could tell from her tone that the social credibility damage was already done. People love drama more than truth, and a scandal about a student entrepreneur cheating was way more interesting than a boring story about someone who actually built something useful.

That evening around 7:00, my phone buzzed with an Instagram DM from Tiana. She said she was willing to publicly vouch for my app and explain in detail how it helped her if that would counter the cheating accusations.

She mentioned that several of her friends also used the platform regularly, and they were all happy to speak up about how it was a legitimate tutoring service that matched them with peer helpers, not some way to cheat on assignments or buy test answers.

I appreciated her offer and told her I was grateful she had my back, but asked her to hold off on any public statements for now. The last thing I wanted was to drag other students into drama with teachers who might retaliate against anyone defending me.

Mrs. Duran already had it out for me, and I did not want her taking shots at Tiana or anyone else just because they supported my business. Tiana sent back a thumbs-up emoji and said she understood, but the offer stood if I changed my mind.