How technology HURT me

I am a lover of the wonderful device known as the cell phone, and many of my peers have first-handed experience of the fact. At the end of my sophomore year, I had become increasingly confident with whipping out my cell phone in most of my classes. AP exams had ended and the classroom had gone from a nurturing learning environment to a zoo of summer anticipation. My peers and I were in coasting mode,so I spent most of my time on facebook and texting (which I never do in Mr. Logsdon's class). It was not difficult to get away with, at this point of the year, except for in Ms. Perry's French classroom. The first cell phone incident happened at 3:12 pm, 6th hour. We had just had an oral French test and I wanted to check my grade on infinite campus. Ms. Perry screeches, "Hand me the cell phone!"
Reluctantly, I relinquish the cell phone and sulk for the last three minutes of class. At the sound of the bell, I politely explain to Ms. Perry that I was checking my grade in HER class. Her abridged response to get out of her room and she was taking it to the office. Madame was already my least favorite teacher, and I would be stuck with her one more year for AP French. I was furious, even though she had every right to confiscate the phone, and convinced my mom to get my cell phone back. One would think that this would have been an educational experience for me, but I did not catch on. Over the next week she confiscated my phone two more times. The Henry Clay electronic device policy is that after the third confiscation, the phone will be kept until the end of the school year. With my mother's help, I convinced Mr. Nochta that I would not bring it to school for the rest of the year, if he would give it back. My relationship with my French teacher was no longer peaches and cream and I could no longer have my phone at school. A valuable lesson was learned, but my electronic device did hinder me.