I can't decide if I think this is terrible or awesome. On one hand, I think it's fine that teachers joke around with their students, but probably calling them a "loser" on a graded assignment isn't the best way to go. On the other hand, maybe that little girl is a loser and maybe she needs to hear it. I knew plenty of kids throughout my years in school that could have benefited from hearing, "Hey Johnny - you suck at (subject). Let's put you in the remedial class." Focus: Discuss the story. Do you think it's appropriate for a teacher to call a student a "loser" (or something similar) if they think it'll motivate the student to do better? Alt. Focus: What's the most fucked up thing a teacher has ever said to you/accused you of doing?
Is it really worse to get "Needs improvement" or "I expected better from you" or, worse than that, "Disappointing"*, than getting "You're a LOSER!" on your essay/term card/whatever from a teacher? Maybe I was the only one who felt guilt (for all of 0.01 seconds). Who knows. All I know is... I'd be laughing my ass off at whoever got "You're a LOSER!" as the teacher's comment on their work. *You know I got that a lot.
I took a few French classes when I was in high school and one day our teacher was handing back papers. I'm sure I got some sort of horrible grade because I sucked frog balls at French, but at least I turned my shit in on time. They girl next to me sucked worse than I did and always turned things in late. So when she got her paper back at that said 'En Retard' (late) in big red letters, she started to tear up and ran of out of the class. It wasn't until the teacher chased her down and explained to her that she wasn't calling the girl a retard, that she calmed down. Hindsight though, I think that girl got knocked up and is working at the Food Lion back home. Freudian slip?
Humorous though it may be if I were that kids father, I'd be heading down to school with a baseball bat.
This guy is teaching in Appalachia. Just for that he gets a pass on calling a student a loser. Really, he has more patience in one day with those mostly inbred mongoloids than I will have in my entire life. Good for him, call the little twat a loser.
Considering the mother was wearing black shorts and a large camouflage shirt, I have no doubt that she has raised her daughter to be a white trash loser. I say the teacher was actually being nicer to her then what she needs.
Alt Focus: When I was in second grade I innocently bent over to pick up my pencil that I had dropped right as Ms. Stalarski was walking down the aisle passing out papers. She made some "Just what is it that you think you are doing Nitwit" type comment. It wasn't until third grade that I learned to drop my pencil intentionally. Looking back, I wish I had learned in kindergarten. Ms. Johnson was so hot.
This is kinda weird, but I saw the High School Secretary take a shit once. Its strange to even try to explain it. One day during gym class one of girls decided to invite me down into the lockeroom for some slap and tickle time. Me and the girl are being kinda quiet because we were sneaking around, but we're making those kissing noises, and then its getting hotter and we each up the ante. I slide the digits in, as she corrals the boner in my gym shorts........ and all of a sudden we hear something........ In what I remember was slow motion,,,,we both kinda stop and look at each other, and then peer over to the stall shitter with no doors,,,, straining our eyes because the place was lit like a 1950's bomb shelter. (fingers still in her, her gripping my cock like an olympic baton) And there she is, pants around her ankles, peering straight back at us. I guess she was hoping to go unnoticed, and try to ride the storm out, but I guess when she figured that we were going to be awhile (who am I kidding? I probably lasted about a minute and a half back in high school) she figured that she was going to try and leave. It was creepy as we all made eye contact with each other, and then she said out loud: "Luke,,,, is that you?" I didn't say a fucking word. I was out of there and up the cement steps faster than you can say Miss Flowers is dropping a deuce. Nobody ever talked about it ever again. I never brought it up with the chick, Miss Flowers never brought it up with either of us, and no one got in trouble for it. So there it is. I got jerked off while watching a teacher take a shit.
Freshman year of high school, our homeroom teacher was handing out our first report cards of the year and as he read each student's grades to himself, he'd offer the occasional comment. When he came across the class idiot, his comment was, "Well Donovan, you can always become a priest." Donovan didn't even make through the first semester.
Focus: I don't think calling her "Loser" was appropriate, but without this turning into a rant about modern school systems, I do think kids need a little more chastisement than what they are getting. Hell, just going over some of the homework assignments that my son has gotten back, I would have been harsher than his teacher was. There will be the occasional mispelled word or something, and the teacher didn't point that out. Maybe this is just because I came from two generations of English teachers, or because I was an English major myself, but these kids are going to have a real surprise waiting for them once they get to college. Alt. Focus: My 8th grade reading teacher, Mary Saenz of Edinburg South Jr. High was a bitch and a half. Apparently, she had my brother for one of her classes ten years earlier, and he was a holy terror. She used this against me and judged my papers more harshly than she would other students, humiliated me in class when I got a low grade (not just my class either. According to stuff I heard from other kids, she would show my papers to other classes too as an example of what not to do), argue with me about word choice (one time she refused to accept a paper from me because I "made up a word." The word: unnecessary. She grabbed a shitty 100 page dictionary and said that because it wasn't in there, I made it up.). Burn in hell, you self-righteous bitch. If you weren't already dead, I'd track you down and kick you in the pussy. I won't even get into the crap I had to go through when I went to a Baptist private school.
In grade seven my social studies/art/shop teacher flat out despised me. It was pretty unjustified as well, since I was no where near the worst kid in the class. Basically, I talked a lot with friends and could be a bit of a smart ass. Compared to the actual delinquents, one of whom brought a gun to class, I was tame. For whatever reason though, teacher had it in for me. Two stories come to mind: First bell had just rang, my class walks in as the previous class exits, and as we all pass at the door, one of the kids walking out gets shoulder-punched by almost everyone in my class because it was his birthday. I didn't care much, so I sort of half-heartedly slug him on the arm and say happy birthday. That's it, truthfully. Suddenly I hear Mr. Asshole say my name followed by "get out...just get out of my class." I stare at him trying to figure out if he's serious, and everyone stops and looks at me waiting for my response: "Yah, well I don't have my homework done anyways, so that's cool." As I'm sitting on the bench in the hallway quite a few faculty members pass by, and the ones that know me well, specifically the assistant principal (think Ned Flanders), ask me what I did to get kicked out before class even started. "I told (Fake Name) to have a happy birthday." More to focus, that same year we had a title page assignment. I suck at drawing. My sister, who was two grades ahead, is a very good drawer, and this endeared her greatly to Mr. Asshole. He handed back assignments by calling us up to his desk and giving further feedback, which seems like something a good, thorough, non-asshole teacher would do. I walk up, see my mark is 7/10, am pleased, then look at Mr. Asshole giving me the evil eye, followed by, "you know, you're sister would have done a much better job than this." I'm shocked, and reply, "What the hell? Are you for real? I'm pretty sure you're not allowed to say something like that." As I walk back I loudly ask the class if they just heard what he said, they laugh, and he talks louder telling me to sit down and stop disrupting class. Then six months later he killed himself, the first of two teachers to do so in my junior high career. I did not go to his funeral. True story.
I once used "effect" as a verb in a university paper. The TA docked me marks for not using "affect". I giggled at how low my mark for grammar and syntax was. In grade seven I was dispersed to another class because my lesbian teacher was off at some athletic meet. I was supposed to sit in a corner and do work. The class I was in was having a lecture on alcohol. The teacher told the class that the carbon dioxide in beer could kill you if you weren't able to eliminate it. My grade five teacher didn't much like me, either. I used to come into class late fairly frequently (which, at the time, was my mom's fault, clearly). I walked in late one day and she thought I was smiling as she gave me a reaming for being late. "I'm not smiling" I said. Oh well. Recess was lost for me. And then there was that time that I apparently didn't close the door after leaving the portable, leaving her precious purse and keys exposed, as though a 10 year old were responsible enough to be left in charge of that sort of shit.
My art teacher in elementary school asked me to never draw anything again because my work was so terrible. Think about that. An elementary school art teacher. By far the greatest thing that a teacher has said to me was the note on my report card final semester senior year in bio: Maltob, for the last two years in my class the only thing you cared about other than sleeping and slacking off was when class would end. Well the end is here, bye. And no I didn't repeat bio, I was just unlucky enough to have her two years in a row.
I went to a Lutheran School first through eighth grade. Every so often the students would have to sing a song or two during church. On one such occasion when I was in the eighth grade we were up in the balcony and the principal was sitting behind me. During the first hymn I was doing as I always did, reading the bulletin instead of singing. The principal noticed this and took my bulletin away. Me, being the smart ass that I was, borrowed one from another student and continued my business. This resulted in me and another student who also wasn't singing being required to write out every verse of every song we sang that Sunday for him. It was communion Sunday so there were more songs than usual and some of them were ridiculously long. Since I had gone above and beyond not singing and had procured another bulletin to spite him, I also got ISS for two days. That's right kids. I managed to get ISS for reading a bulletin in church. Since there were only about 20 kids in the whole school, there were only two classrooms. First through third in one and fourth through eighth in the other. The principal was also the teacher for the fourth through eighth grade, he pretty much hated me from that point and I wasn't too crazy about him either. I did my best to be a pain in the ass the rest of the year for that one.
I went to a nerd high school which was supposed to prepare me for college. Basically I was to finish the majority of the high school requirements in 9th and 10th grade, so we could take all college classes from 11-12th grade. They only had around five teachers who taught the subjects for 9th and 10th grade, so if you ever did anything to piss them off, you were stuck with them until you started college classes. I don't remember how, but I fell on the bad side of one of those teachers. Ms. Carroll was the hands down bitchiest, most favorite playing teacher I have ever had the pleasure of taking classes from. She was the english teacher for the school, a subject at which I was adept enough to be able to pull essays out of nowhere and get B's. I have two distinct memories about her, one in ap psychology (which she also taught) that still angers me. We had these assignments which were called reading journals. She would gives us 6-7 different topics and about two weeks to write a page about each of the topics. The day they were due I started them about two hours before class, finishing them all up five minutes before. As I arrived in class I realized that I had to either write the prompt or cut it out and staple it to the top (instead of simply numbering them 1,2,3...) and decided to try to finish that up before I turned them in. A friend of mine and I were cutting out the prompts and I was stapling them on my paper when suddenly Ms. Carroll says "30 seconds left to turn in your psychology journals." Immediately after she said that I started walking to the front organizing them so they didn't look like shit when I handed them in. As I was walking towards her she looks up, directly at me (this being almost barely 10 seconds after she had given the 30 seconds left warning) and says "everything turned in after this point is considered late and is given a 0," and turns and walks away, leaving me sitting there astonished. These were 7% of my final fucking grade in the class. I walked to her desk and laid them on the pile of assignments and was turning around to walk away when she promptly told me to pick up my journals and return to my desk. Nearly half the class had witnessed what just happened and a couple were already protesting in my favor as I began to argue with her. After a few polite exchanges with her steadfast in her ways I snapped. The only time I ever called a teacher a stupid cunt to her face. I got ISS for a day...pretty sure the first time at that school for anyone. And I didn't get credit for those journals. But, I made an A anyways since I fucking studied the shit out of everything in that class from there on.
My teacher in 6th grade, a big fat ugly frog of a degenerate that hated the kids he taught, Mr. Charles Larson, mocked me so much that he made me cry in front of the class. If I hadn't switched school districts two years later, I'm pretty sure I never would have lived that down. I don't use the word hate in a serious way very often, but I hated that man, and when I heard a few years later that he was dying of brain tumors, I burst out in joyous laughter. Fuck him and his whole family, I hope they all get AIDS.
OK, I can recant some stories about Mrs. Bennett, my 11th grade Maths teacher. This woman gave me nothing but grief for the entire year. I was useless at Algebra and Trigonometry - her diatribes were directed to me almost daily. It was ridiculous. Eventually, I stood up and said "I'm sorry I'm poor with Algebra and Trigonometry, Ma'am, but I really struggle with it". Her response? "Get out of my class." My response was, in a lovely sarcastic tone, "Awesome", which earned me a week's detention. She also never made any attempt to actually help me at all, before or after that. I ended up failing maths and completely lost interest in the subject, which was sad, since I'd been getting C's and B's the previous year with a different teacher. It was dumb luck I was assigned to Mrs. Bennett for my final year, too. Fortunately, I had that changed quickly and swapped classes. I still failed maths, since the class I moved to was the delinquent class, where no work would ever happen. The sad part is... her son went to my school at the time I was there and was a decent guy. I can only assume he got those traits from his father or something.
My grade 11 art teacher hated me from the first day of classes and I still to this day am unsure why. I will admit, that after I realized I could never win with her I did turn into a very bad student and made use of any opportunity to make her look like an idiot which happened almost daily. Our biggest blow up came when I was in class making pottery and went to put my piece (bong) into the kiln and a {stupid} friend thought it would be hilarious to drop the kiln lid on my head while I was placing it inside. Kiln lids, for the record, are heavy. I was really hurt and super dazed and was stumbling to my desk to sit down when my teacher decided this was the best time to scream at me to clean something up on the other side of the room. She hadn't seen the kiln fall so I can understand why she was mad for me leaving a mess but she wouldn't stop yelling at me long enough to hear why I was going to sit down and when I ignored her to sit she grabbed my arm and spun me around. Touching me was not a good idea as I have weird boundary issues so I punched her, in her upper arm(?) and ran out of the room. I went home directly after the incident and waiting to hear what sort of punishment I was in for and when the school finally called I was shocked and amazed to find out SHE was suspended, I wasnt in any trouble, and they apologized. I thought because of the constant abuse I gave her they would side with her, I am glad I was wrong.
I was a real little shit in school. Had (still have I guess) a problem with authority and always tried my best to get laughs by making the teacher angry. When I was in grade 3 (about 8 years old) I wound my teacher up so bad that she belted me across the head with the 1m ruler. The whole class including the teacher just sat there in stunned silence for what seemed like hours. The silence was only broken by the teacher bursting into tears and running out of the room. My parents were called in to the principal’s office, I was suspended and the teacher was never seen again. Mission accomplished I suppose...
My two "favorite" teachers were great. 9th grade math, I had Mr. Watkins, a redneck football coach who was more worried about what drills he was going to have the boys run at practice that day than he was teaching math. Now, I've always been terrible at math (only subject I've ever failed any classes in), and he wasn't helping. He actually stood in front of the class one day and told us, "If you're not making an 'A' or a 'B' in my class, you're obviously not trying hard enough, so I'm not going to help you." Needless to say, I wasn't one of the kids making high grades. I failed his class (first semester of a year-long math class) and had to go to almost 8 months of out-of-school math tutoring. The awesome part is that the next year, I retook that level in the semester-long version, and passed it with an A. I took the report card to his classroom, walked in, asked if he remembered me (which he did), and told him what I had done. I also told him that he was completely inept as a teacher, and that if I ever did go into that profession he was a model for everything I would not want to be. Turned around and walked out, left him there with his mouth hanging open. Now this next part is long, but you've never had a bitch like this for a teacher. Seriously. 10th grade english, I had the most bitchiest bitch ever. This woman must have been born in Bitch City on the planet of Bitch. Mrs. Roth couldn't even show up on time at the beginning of the semester - she didn't get there until about 2 weeks after we started class. When she did get there...whoa, was it bad. She regularly made racist comments to the black students in the class. When they protested, she would turn on this tape recorder and record what they were saying, making it sound like they were being belligerent with no provocation. She would then take the tape to the Assistant Principal who would give all the kids "misbehaving" on the tapes write-ups. But her hatred for me knew no bounds. She regularly told me my work was not good enough without telling me how to fix it to her liking. I used the word "pimp" in class one time, which almost got me a write-up and ISS until the Asst. Principal told her to drop it. The best part, though, was when she sent an email home to my mother accusing me of being on crack cocaine. That's right - she accused a 14 year old white boy with no ties to anyone who even knew how to get their hands on crack, of being on crack. Nevermind the fact that I was in marching band, and practicing in 100+ degree heat 2 days a week will make you lose some weight - "Nooooo, kid's gotta be on crack!" My mom stomped down to the school and basically told her to go fuck herself in front of a crowded hallway of people. Mrs. Roth wasn't just bad in my class, she was a bitchy bitch bitch all over. I don't recall what exactly she did, but one of my friends had her in a later class the same day I had her - and Mrs. Roth said something to her that caused her to completely flip out and try to strangle her, IN CLASS. Mrs. Roth was fired before the end of the year.