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    Think They Can Read You Like A Book

    | Milford, MI, USA | Books & Reading

    (I’m in the third grade. I’m the quiet, bookish sort and I always have a book on me. While my classmates are still on picture books, I have long since picked up short chapter books. I have a brand new one to read for our silent reading time. Because it is new, I don’t want to keep it in my messy desk where it might get damaged. I keep it in my book bag for the morning and get it out on my way in from recess. We aren’t allowed to go to our bags at any other time during the school day. When silent reading is over I put the book at the corner of my desk, out of the way, and get my workbook out like I am supposed to.)

    Teacher: ”[Name], please put your book in your desk.”

    Me: ”I don’t want it to get damaged and my desk is messy. Can I go put it back in my bag?”

    Teacher: ”No. Put it in your desk. This isn’t reading time.”

    Me: ”I know it’s not. I just don’t want to damage my new book.”

    Teacher: ”Put it in your desk right now or I’m taking it!”

    (I move a bunch of things to make a semi-safe spot for the book.)

    Teacher: ”[Name]! This is not desk cleaning time, either!”

    Me: ”I know. I’m just making room for the book.”

    Teacher: ”If you don’t stop mouthing off and disobeying I’m calling your mother!”

    (Trying not to cry, I got back to work. When I go home that afternoon, I discovered that my teacher had called my mom and told her that I had been reading when I wasn’t supposed to and had repeatedly refused to stop and put my book away. Because my mom never believed a word I said over an adult’s, my new book was taken and I was forced to read from the class library (all picture books) for the remainder of the school year.)

    Head Isn’t Exactly Bursting With Ideas

    | Phoenix, AZ, USA | Bizarre/Silly, Holidays, Students

    (After college I move across the country to teach in a low-income school. It is almost winter break and the first time I’ll be able to go back home to visit family. During calendar time I decide to see if my students are aware of which holiday is coming up.)

    Me: *excitedly* “Who can tell me what is going to happen in just 17 days?”

    (I look around to see a lot of blank faces and shrugs. One student who has had extreme behavioral problems politely raises her hand and I eagerly call on her.)

    Student: “Uh… your head is going to explode?”

    The Learning Dead, Part 4

    | Omaha, NE, USA | Bad Behavior, Bizarre/Silly, Students

    (I’ve been having a very trying day with a third grader.)

    Student: “Miss, I just want you to know: when the zombies come I’m going to make sure you get eaten first.”

    The Learning Dead, Part 3
    The Learning Dead, Part 2
    The Learning Dead

    This Teacher Is Grating

    | FL, USA | Language & Words, Teachers

    (I’m five years old, and my usual kindergarten teacher is out. There’s a substitute in her place, who was left with instructions to have us write little stories. I’ve always been intelligent, and started reading at a very young age, so I’m a little rebellious when this sub comes over to review my work. She’s reading over my shoulder, and immediately points out a ‘mistake.’)

    Sub: *pointing at a word I’d just written* “That’s not a real word, young lady. You spelled it wrong.”

    Me: *reading the word* “No, I’m sure it’s spelled right.”

    Sub: “No, no! You see, ‘grateful’ is spelled ‘G-R-E-A-T-F-U-L’.”

    Me: “No, it’s not.”

    (At this point, I’m puzzled, and the sub suddenly becomes very forceful.)

    Sub: “It’s not spelled like that! ‘Grateful’ is spelled like ‘great!’ It’s spelled like great! G-R-E-A-T! ‘Great!’”

    (She goes on like this until I change the word to meet her expectations. I change it back as soon as she’s moved on to another student. I told my mother when I got home, and was very relieved the next day when my regular teacher was back.)

    Flipping Out Over The Desk

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

    (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.)

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