My World History teacher called Siberia "an arctic wasteland" today. So I decided to write about how Dimtri, as a typical teen and not the zen being he is, might react. I changed my teacher's name to protect him.

Dimtri walked over to his desk group at the far corner of the room. Once again, he shoved the group of desks away from the wall so he could sit. Yanking out his bellwork, he stared at the bogus question. OUTLINE THE START OF WORLD WAR I GRAPHIC ORGANIZER. Which did the teacher want? An outline or a graphic organizer?! Dimtri started on an outline. Five minutes after the bell rang, Professor McQuin explained how to do a graphic organizer.

Only a minute after than, he moved on to a crudely drawn map of Europe, Africa, and the European part of Russia. "Who can come up to the board and show Russia?" Brett raised his hand and made a huge circle. "Now label Austria-Hungary, the Ottoman Empire, France, Great Britain, and Germany." Brett's face twisted into a look of annoyance and he muttered a curse word. Professor McQuin turned to the rest of the class and started working on the graphic organizer.

When Brett was done, Professor McQuin started to ask what Russia's biggest weakness was. Some argued lack of food. Others lack or proper roads. Poor leadership. Lame ass weapons. It was a combination of all of these, marketed under the name weak economy. Professor McQuin explained why they had such a shitty economy. They had terrible trade routes going through enemy lines. Kancer, the obnoxious girl sitting next to Dimtri asked, "Why couldn't Great Britain and France trade by going through the North and Baltic Seas?"

"German blockade," McQuin scoffed, grabbing a red marker and slashing it across the clearly shorter path.

Jackson, the nerdy boy by the teacher's desk, asked, "Why not go to the other side of Russia?"

"Different Russia," McQuin explained. "They were fighting for Mongolia, China, and these other areas. And between them is what?"

"Russia!" "No Man's Land!" "Serbia!" "I don't give a shit!" "Siberia!"

"SIBERIA! The arctic wasteland that nobody wants to live in," McQuin laughed.

Dimtri glared at Professor McQuin. Who the hell was he to judge? He'd never even left the state of Missouri. Siberia wasn't an arctic wasteland. It was cold and snowy during the winter, but it was beautiful just the same.

Finally the bell rang. Dimtri left the unfinished homework on his desk and stormed towards the choir room. His girlfriend, Rose, fell into step beside him. "What's wrong, Comrade?"

"He called my home an arctic wasteland," Dimtri growled. "He has no fucking right to judge! His job is to teach us history, not mock the other countries. He called Russians 'dad gum commies'. Does he have it out for me? Does he want me to defenestrate him?!"

Rose stood on his tip toes and kissed his lips. "Calm down, Comrade. You only have to deal with him for 5 more weeks until we graduate. Now let's listen to Charlotte scream at us about our acapella contest pieces and how we don't have a conductor."