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Featured Story:
  • Pushing Forward From Holding Back
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  • Category: Teachers

    By Any Other Name

    | USA | Family & Kids, Teachers

    (I’m a senior in French class with a teacher who is known to be a bit snippy with some of the students. There’s one girl in particular she has it in for. The girl’s sister went to the same school years before, but the teacher still gets her name wrong.)

    Girl: *doodling*

    Teacher: “[Sister], pay attention!”

    Girl: “I’m [Girl], not [Sister], but sorry. What was the question?”

    (The teacher calls her the wrong name several more times, each time the girl gets a little less patient. Finally…)

    Girl: *to me* “I’m not responding until she gets it right now.”

    Me: “Good idea. I’ll play along.”

    Teacher: “[Sister], go up to the board and write the future tenses of [verb].”

    (The girl stares straight ahead.)

    Teacher: “[Sister], move it!”

    (Again the girl doesn’t reply.)

    Teacher: “[Sister]! Do you need your hearing checked?”

    Girl: “Maybe, [Sister] does, but I’m [Girl].”

    Teacher: “So?”

    Girl: “I would appreciate it if you called me by my name and not my sister’s. It’s been seven years since you had her.”

    Teacher: “Oh, whatever. It’s not like me getting your name right is all that important.”

    Flipping Out Over The Desk

    | Port Coquitlam, BC, Canada | Parents, Teachers, Theme Of The Month

    (I am in a double class being taught by two teachers. Both women are extremely over the top crazy for organization and decorum and will give at-desk suspensions to those who can’t do either. Needless to say, I had to sit at my desk for lunch break a lot. One day, after lunch, my teacher decides to have a randomized desk check. I wasn’t finished with my lunch, and it was in my desk as I had just served an in class suspension. I had small open packages like nuts and candies. My teacher comes straight to me first, and without even looking, overturns my desk in front of an entire class of 50+ kids. She glares at me, and then, with a smug smile, turns to the class.)

    Teacher: “This is why you all need to be organized. Society hates people who can’t keep their stuff in order.”

    (I’m destroyed. I’m seven years old and a teacher just made fun of me in front of my entire class. Only my best friend stands up for me at the time, coming all the way across the room from his desk to help me right my desk and put all my things in order. I ended up losing control and crying, again, in front of my class. Needless to say, when I went home, I talked to my mom about exactly what happened. My mom just assures me that things would be okay. The next morning, I walked to school with my neighbours, who had heard at school what happened. They asked me about what happened, but I didn’t want to talk about it. It wasn’t until I sat down for class when the boy beside me leaned over to me.)

    Boy: “My mom said what the teacher did to you wasn’t right.”

    (The teacher overhears this, and comes flying over. )

    Teacher: “It IS right. End of story. Your mother is wrong.”

    (Just then, I hear a commotion outside the class door, and my mother come through the door, being tailed by the principal, all four vice principals, and the secretarial staff, all from the office. My mom had spent the last hour in the office trying to move me out of the classroom. As it was the only grade three class at the time the principal couldn’t move me. My mom sees me, comes right my desk, and tells me to start packing. Of course, my teacher tries to intercept. This is all happening in front of my entire class of 50+ kids.)

    Teacher: *to my mom* “Who are you?”

    Mom: “I’m [My Name]‘s mom. Who are you?”

    Teacher: “I’m [My Name]‘s teacher.”

    Mom: “Really?”

    Teacher: “Yes. I am.”

    Mom: *pointing to a desk in the corner* “Is that where you sit?”

    Teacher: “When I’m not teaching, yes.”

    (My mom went over to the teacher’s desk, pulled out every single drawer, and dumped all it’s contents out on the floor. Then, she flipped the desk on it’s side, in front of my entire class, the principal, and all his support staff.)

    Mom: *to the teacher* “Now clean it up.” *to the support staff* “Don’t help her. She’s beyond it, anyway.”

    (My mom proceeded to grab my entire desk and walk down the hallway with it. As I had no other class to be in, my desk was placed just outside of the principal’s office, where I carried out the remainder of the year. The teacher was eventually fired after a full investigation and had her license to teach pulled.)

    I Heart A Good Teacher

    | PA, USA | Awesome, Health & Body, Teachers

    (I am in art class. I have been having strange chest pains in the heart region lately, but after a while they would stop. I don’t know what is wrong with me; I just know the pain makes it hurt to even breathe. I have just had another pain attack. This one the worst I’ve ever had.)

    Friend: “[My Name], are you okay?”

    Me: *curling up a little and applying pressure to my chest* “No. My chest hurts again.”

    (At this point I am almost in tears. My friend notifies the teacher and she calls the nurse. Not wanting to cause a scene I try to tell them I’ll be fine after some time, but they don’t want to take any risks so the teacher tells a nurse to come down.)

    Me: “I can just walk. It’s fine.”

    Teacher: “I don’t want you passing out while walking down there. She’ll be here soon. Do you need water or anything?”

    Me: “No, I’ll be fine.”

    (I let it go, thinking that the nurse will just walk down with me. However she comes in with a wheelchair.)

    Me: “I really don’t need that!”

    Nurse: “Don’t worry. We like to do things in style here.”

    (I decided to get on anyway, as the pain still hadn’t let up. I went to the nurse’s office and she asked me questions. I did my best to answer them and then she called my mom while letting me lay down to rest. The nurse was really great and helpful. I’m honestly not sure if I would have made it to the nurse’s office if I had walked. When I went to the doctor I found out it wasn’t my heart, but an inflamed lung. I’m really grateful for the teacher and nurse taking the time to make sure I was fine, despite one kid protesting that I was just doing it for attention.)

    The Teacher Became A Whole Different Person

    | Scotland, UK | Parents, Teachers, Theme Of The Month

    (I’m about seven, and my brother is a year older. We look very alike, and both our names start with the same letter. My parents get home from parents’ evening with my teacher, who’s been picking on me since term started a couple months ago. My mum looks outraged, my dad near laughing.)

    Brother: “How was it?”

    Mum: “Your teacher was fine. You just need to go over your reading book more at home. But, [My Name]‘s teacher—”

    (She’s cut off as Dad starts laughing.)

    Dad: “She started going on and on about how you don’t pay attention in class, don’t use your full potential, and just as your mother is about to argue with her she says ‘it’s no wonder he had to repeat the year!’”

    (Dad starts laughing again.)

    Mum: “That stupid cow thought you were [Brother]! Moaning about kids not paying attention and she doesn’t even notice you’re a different person!”

    (That teacher suddenly became a whole lot nicer to me in class!)

    Writing’s On The Wall For This School

    | TX, USA | Parents, Teachers, Theme Of The Month

    (I am in fourth grade. I am retelling this from my parents’ accounts.)

    Teacher #1: “We’ve noticed that [My Name] hasn’t been doing well in our writing camp.”

    Teacher #2: “It’s our prep camp for the state writing test.”

    Mom: “So, what’s her issue?”

    Teacher #1: “[My Name] hasn’t been finishing her assignments on time, and often misbehaves when we give directions.”

    Principal: “She has been to my office an alarming number of times.”

    Mom: “Well, how much do they have to write?”

    Teacher #2: “Not much, just a paragraph a day. We give them about thirty minutes each day, and by the end of the week they have a full composition.”

    Dad: “I see. [My Name] is a rather slow writer. Is there a possibility that she could receive extra time?”

    (Upon hearing this, the staff present laughed in my parents’ faces! Luckily, I was eventually able to leave that school, go to a better one where students receive more teacher focus, and receive some psychological help. It turned out that I have high functioning autism, which contributes, in this case, to slow penmanship and sensitivity to time pressure. My new school was able to accommodate me as needed, and now I’ll be entering high school with great test scores–including an almost perfect score in math!)


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