When I try to remember my English teacher from my sophomore year of high school, I am pretty sure I am picturing my 6th-grade social studies teacher. Or maybe vice versa. They were both vaguely Italian, short hair, closeted lesbians who gave me bad grades and whose classes I intensely disliked, so I’m not sure it really matters which one was which. I learned nothing from either, except perhaps what it means to truly hate a fellow human being.