Chapter 1The Ungrateful Class: A Teacher's Exodus

Because I went to the hospital a few times, I was jointly reported by the parents of my students.

"Senior year is so crucial. As the homeroom teacher, you need to be on call 24/7. Will you die if you don't go to the hospital?"

"Even if it's the weekend, what if something happens and we can't find you? If you don't even have that basic level of commitment, why are you even a homeroom teacher?"

"At the end of the day, it's just selfishness. Someone like this doesn't even deserve to be a teacher!"

I was both furious and shocked.

For the past two years, I had poured my heart and soul into this class, taking them from the bottom of the grade to ranking first. I worked myself into the ground, getting sick in the process, yet I didn't even dare ask for a sick day for fear of impacting my students.

And after all that, I was being accused of being selfish?

When my students found out I was reported, every single one of them had a cold, indifferent expression, acting as if it had nothing to do with them.

My heart turned to ice.

Whoever wants this homeroom teacher job can have it.

A few months later, that same group of parents was standing outside my front door. "Mr. Vance, we're begging you, please come back."

* * *

I was reported.

All the parents in my class jointly filed a complaint against me for being "irresponsible," demanding the school immediately strip me of my homeroom teacher duties and my position as the math teacher.

When the principal told me this, I felt like I had been struck by lightning.

Ever since I took over this class, I had worked tirelessly, exhausting myself. I always put the students first, practically handing my heart over to them on a silver platter.

And the parents actually had the nerve to call me irresponsible?!

"The parents in your class are being extremely aggressive. They even said that if the school doesn't meet their demands, they'll escalate the report to the Board of Education."

My face looked terrible.

The principal said sternly, "Mr. Vance, what you need to do right now is reflect on yourself. If you truly had absolutely zero issues, why would the parents collectively report you?"

This was utterly baffling!

How did this suddenly become my fault?

I was just about to argue back, but the principal waved me off impatiently.

"Alright, that's enough. Go back and wait for the school's decision."

Walking out of the principal's office, the more I thought about it, the more depressed I felt.

Finally, unable to hold it in, I sent a message in the parent-teacher group chat.

"Parents, since I took on the role of homeroom teacher, I have always put the class first. I wouldn't dare say I've given my absolute all, but I have certainly been dedicated and diligent. If you feel there are areas where I've fallen short in my work, you are more than welcome to communicate with me directly. Baseless misunderstandings and accusations truly chill the hearts of educators."

A few minutes later, a message popped up.

Matthew's Mom: "Misunderstandings? Are you saying we're falsely accusing you? A homeroom teacher running off to the hospital every few days—do you think that's appropriate? Who gave you that right? Who gave you that freedom? How are you supposed to focus your energy on the students like this? The final semester of senior year is so critical. Will you die if you don't go to the hospital?"

That barrage of blunt, unapologetic questioning left me stunned on the spot.