This was when I was around 4/5 and starting the new school year. I’m left-handed and hold my pen differently to how you “should.” It’s not a major difference, but enough to notice if you look for long enough. Up to this point my handwriting has been as expected of my age.
Teacher: [Name], you’re holding in your pen- oh, I see. You’re left-handed. No wonder your writing is always a mess.
The teacher then gives me this rubber grip to put on my pen which forces me to hold it the “correct” way. It causes extreme discomfort and cramping, and makes my writing nearly illegible. Despite my protests, the teacher refuses to let me write normally and my grades suffer, all the while blaming it on my handedness. I’m doing homework one night when I scream out in pain at a swelling on my finger, and my mum tells me to just stop using it. So I finish the homework without it and hand it in.
Teacher: *handing homework out* [Name], you’re writing has gotten so much better, for being left-handed! I told you it would work!
Me: I didn’t use the grip thing. My mum said if it’s hurting I’m not to use it anymore.
Teacher: In my classroom you will! How do you expect your handwriting to get better! *looking at my homework* This is awful.
She then lowers my grade right in front of me and continues for force me to use the grip, which ends up in my handwriting being worse during the day and better at night. This continues for another couple of years before I move to the older section of the school. I spend the entire summer holidays in fear of my new teacher forcing me to use the grip again that I start becoming sick the closer the days get, while in the end literally didn’t bat an eyelid.
Sadly that school wasn’t particularly good, and my past grades gave me a reputation for being bad at English, despite every additional tutor they forced on me saying there was nothing to improve upon. There was such a bias that no matter how hard I tried, I was given a lower score than everyone else. I was so happy when I left, and my English grades shot up when I moved onto secondary school, so thankfully my past didn’t haunt me forever.
I still have the swelling on my finger, but thankfully I never have to write like that witch wanted me to again. I honestly wish she would have just forced me to write right-handed. It would’ve been so much more bearable.