My daughter is in kindergarten, and she’s already met you. In her class, you go by the name Messiah and Christian — fairly ironic that those are the names of the two worst-behaved boys in her class. She was hoping to get into a multi-age class that would likely lack any Messiahs, Christians, or Terrences. Sadly, selection for this group is not entirely based on merit; there’s a lottery in the end. And she lost. So now she has to deal with you guys again in first grade.
It’s not only you who suffers from your lack of social skills that makes regular success in school an impossibility; it’s not only I, as your teacher, who cringes each time I realize I’m wasting class time dealing with your behavior; it’s not only the administration who is tired of calling your parents. Everyone else in the room with you suffers.