Freshmen year in high school; the teacher made all the answers to the geography final "C" on the scantron (bubble sheet). Being the "smart" student I was, I purposely changed some thinking no way in hell are all the answers C. Let's just say I did not do that well Source
8th grade science class. My final project was running my mouse, Taylor, through a maze to get some tasty treats at the end and time him. Very simple project, but I was absolutely getting an A. The biggest part of the project was bringing it in and demonstrating it for the class. On the due date, I dropped off my maze and mouse first thing in the morning (science was my last class of the day), making sure it was in the back of the classroom so he wouldn't be disturbed throughout the day.
I arrive to class several hours later, pull the lid off my maze, and... wait... where's Taylor? His travel container is empty. I look around the room for a loose mouse, but I don't see him. I ask my teacher about it. "Who's Taylor?" she asked. "My pet mouse--he was in his travel container inside my project but now he's not there. Did you see him?"
"That was YOUR mouse?" she asked.
"Oh, I just put it in the snake tank a few minutes ago because I didn't know where he belonged."
So I turn to the snake tank, and there's Taylor... being eaten by a snake... backwards... so he's screaming... F---ing horrifying.
She really had to go out of her way to get the mouse out of his travel container... Remove the lid from the maze, then remove the lid from the container, get the mouse, put both lids back on... And the project/container had my name written in Sharpie--how could she not have known whose he was?! Ugh... hate that woman...
Still more--because I couldn't demonstrate my project, I failed it.
Edit: My mom definitely went in and threw a fit with the principal. My project was ultimately graded based on my experimental data without the demonstration--an A. It was the following semester that it was finally resolved, so it had to be corrected on my record. My mouse could have somehow escaped, but he was mostly lazy and I doubt he would have worked himself up to escaping TWO lids. Because I couldn't prove she didn't just find poor Taylor running around (because, naturally, picking up strange mice is what most people do), nothing came of the second bit. There were a few other students who said they saw her snooping through the projects from my class, but we were all just kids and nobody believes kids... except for Mommy.
Edit 2: Unfortunately, it is possible this teacher really is that stupid Source
When I was in middle school, our entire class was lined up outside our American History class after recess, waiting to get in. We waited like 10 minutes, wondering where our teacher was. He suddenly bursts through the door and is SUPER PISSED OFF. There is practically steam coming out of his ears.
He divides the class, putting 5 people on one side of the room, and the rest of the class on the other. On the floor, there is a large rectangle of masking tape. He gives rolls of tape to the 5 selected students, and instructs them to bind the hands of everyone on the other side of the room. Everyone in the class is creeped right out.
As our hands are being bound, anyone who speaks gets hushed immediately by our furious teacher. He stares them down with an intense look of disapproval and gives the slitting-your-neck sign language with his finger. When everyone is bound, he makes the class lie down, one by one, inside the taped rectangle. He then instructs the 5 students to tape our legs and mouths. Kids start to protest, but he yells at them to be quiet and lie down. When the entire class is bound and gagged on the classroom floor, tiled up like sardines, the teacher turns off the lights and leaves the room.
Everyone starts freaking out, ripping the tape off, getting up. Chaos descends. Nobody can figure out what the f--- is going on.
The teacher comes back into the room with a huge grin on his face and says "Now you all know what it's like to be on a slave ship heading to the colonies!"
He was fired a few weeks later Source
My mom died when I was 15. We notified the school I'd be out of class for about a week to cope and take care of everything. When I got back to school the next week, my math teacher refused to let me back into the class. He said I'd missed too much work, and I would have to wait to take his class again next year.
To this day I remember my sister storming into his office and the unholy terror in that teacher's eyes after the berating he received. I was promptly let back in the class and passed it with an A Source
My high school drama teacher was a true psycho, who I had already gotten into some nasty altercations with. Well, my classmate was the daughter of an abortion doctor who was infamously murdered at this time. The very day my classmate returned to school after the funeral and everything, my b---h teacher lays into her as soon as she walks into the room. She was asking completely inappropriate questions like, "don't you think your dad deserved it?" and "you had to see this coming, right?" The girl immediately broke into tears but the teacher would not let up. I couldn't take it anymore, so I stood up and began dogcussing the b---h. I was so angry and shocked, I cannot even remember what I said. Of course, the b---h scolded me and painted me as the villain. She took off and returned with our ultra d--khead asst. principal. He took me outside, grabbing me by the arm, and said something I will never forget: "you cannot, and will not, be allowed to say or think what you want to." They tried to kick me out of the class with a failing grade but my stepdad came down and superbly defended me. I transferred to an art class. I really think I might spit in the face of either one of those f---ers, should I ever see them in public Source
Junior high was OK for me. As a good student, yearbook staff member, and band nerd, I was well liked by the faculty and minimally harassed by fellow students. Skip to social studies with Mr. R. He started class one day by explaining to us that he had gone over test scores, homework, etc. and determined why our class average was so low. Quietly and determinedly, he announced that I and another boy were to blame... for everything. Then he calmly explained to the class why we were so stupid. I was so shocked. I remember staring down at my desk and crying silently while he proceeded to humiliate me and the other boy in front of the entire class. Then he told me to pick up my desk and move it to the back of the room, facing the wall. He barked at me again to move it when I squeaked out, "seriously?" So the other boy and I silently moved our desks to the back. The harassment continued. The other boy was crying, and I think I was near passing out from embarrassment and confusion - I had aced our last test. The class was incredibly quiet. My friends gave me pity looks or avoided eye contact, and one girl actually started to laugh out loud at me. We sat like that for half the class. Then Mr. R stopped his lecture and asked why nobody had stood up for us. When he got no reply, he said, "Well, this is what Hitler essentially did to the Jews. And none of you said anything to stop me from humiliating your classmates. Interesting." My student/teacher relationship with Mr. R never fully recovered, even after he apologizedSource
I have an unnervingly similar story, except it's from elementary school. And it wasn't a trick.
Teacher's name was Mrs. Tonne. I use her real name because I actually kind of hope someone she knows reads this and maybe she'll remember me.
I had recently moved from the US to Germany. My dad was in the Army, so I was attending an American elementary school on the Army base.
When I left my old school, we were just starting to learn cursive. When I got to the new school, they had already learned it. The teacher wrote exclusively in cursive, and I couldn't read it.
The way she taught the class was she just filled the blackboard with assignments. The black board would look like this at the beginning of the day.
Social studies: Read pages 124-247. Answer questions 1, 2, 3, 5, 7, 8, 11, 23, 14, 55. English: Write a story about your family. At least 1 page long. Math: Read pages 139-155. Do problems 1-20.
And etc. It was just a huge amount of writing on the board, and we had to work through it and be done by the end of the day.
Except I couldn't read it. So I spent most of my time deciphering the writing using one of those tape strips on the desk that had the cursive alphabet on it. I would have to decode the assignment, then do the assignment. Then I would have to encode my writing back into cursive because cursive was required for all writing. I was perpetually behind.
So, one day she took 4 or 5 desks and set them all together at the back of the room and hung a sign over them that read "Dummy Group." Then she went down the list of all the kids who were having trouble finishing her assignments. She actually instructed the class to laugh at each person.
I remember this vividly, even though it was only 3rd grade. When she started explaining what she was doing, I knew I was going to wind up in the dummy group, and I knew I was going to cry.
So I went into my backpack and took out a Spider-Man comic book I had brought to read during lunch. I remember hiding my face behind it and when she said my name I remember how the colors all blurred together when the tears came.
One of my classmates (who I didn't like) saw I was crying, and in an astoundingly refreshing turn of events, spoke up that I was crying. Everyone stopped laughing. So I stood up, walked to my dummy group desk and sat down and basically checked out of actually giving a f--- about institutionalized learning forever Source
This particular teacher is still the English department head and on the PTA board and has tenure. She also has some fundamental issue with second siblings. She has a history of failing second siblings for no reason. And the way our public school system works, you had to wait til the semester was over before you could change teachers and if you appealed your grade, it went right to her and she had final say. It was a dictatorship in her class. I am a second sibling and I heard all the things about and didn't exactly believe them at first.
Then on the very first assignment for the class, where you had to work with a partner but hand in your own copy each, something stunning happened. My friend Scott (not a second sibling) and I each turned in the exact same assignment with only different names at the top. Front the same printer, same font, same paper, entirely the same. He got 24/25 and I got 7/25. I asked her about it and she said it wasn't up for discussion. This continued for the entire semester. I couldn't get into AP English thanks to her and had to take two stupid as hell English courses my freshman year of undergrad because I didn't get to take the AP exam and pass out of them.
So hopefully Suzanne Thompson will get wind of this: f--- you. F--- you very much Source
In third grade I was struggling with math. My third grade teacher asked me a question, when I got it wrong she started yelling "MULTIPLY, AND ADD THE CARY NUMBER!"
That wasn't enough so she got the entire class to form a conga line around my desk and sing " "MULTIPLY, AND ADD THE CARY NUMBER!" This went on for about 15 minutes.
This public shaming seriously f---ed me up as a 10 year old Source
In 4th grade we had those desks that had had a top, and a storage cubby type thing right underneath. I was (and still am) a disorganized person. One day my psycho of a 4th grade teacher decided that my desk was too messy, dragged my desk from right in front of me to the classroom door, opened the door, and overturned my desk spilling everything half in the classroom and half in the hallway.
Then, she screamed at me to clean it up and reorganize my desk. In front of my whole class, and good number of kids in the hallway (walking to art class or something), I had to pick up all of my stuff while she watched me with the death stare Source
I remember another one:
In 4th grade we had a bathroom that was attached to the classroom. The teacher accidentally walked in on one of the boys while he was peeing. Apparently the boy was peeing sitting down. I guess the teacher had an issue with this and ordered the boy to "get out here and show everybody what you were doing!" So, he walks out pants down to his feet and his wang hanging out for all the girls and boys to see. He's beet red and crying. The teacher says "Show them how you were pottying!" and he sits down on a chair.
"And how are boys supposed to potty?!!"
boy is sobbing, still sitting
He stands up and faces towards the chair.
"WHY WERE YOU SITTING TO DO POTTY?!!"
"I don't know"
(sobbing)"I DON'T KNOW!"
The teacher just stays silent for a few seconds and lets the boy cry half-naked in front everybody.
"Put your pants back on and flush the toilet."
And so he does and sits back at his desk.
A few weeks later, he peed his pants during class because he didn't want to go to the bathroom anymore.
Poor kid Source
In 4th grade, we had a substitute teacher on a particularly hot day. After recess, I was waiting in line to get a drink from the fountain when the teacher called us back inside. After a while, my head started to hurt, and through the rest of the day, it got worse and worse. It eventually got so bad that sounds started echoing in my head. I asked the teacher if I could go to the nurse's office, but she refused. I insisted that I really needed to go, but again, she told me to sit down. I guess I started making a scene, so she took me out into the hall.
Now, I was one of those kids that learned swear words early. That, plus the fact that I had the worst headache of my life, led me to just unleash a gushing stream of epithets on her. Now, this was 4th grade, so it could well be that my memory is distorting this and I actually called her a "meanie" or whatever, but I'm pretty sure it was more stuff along the line of "f---ing b---h". So, picture a little 9 year old boy calling you a f---ing b---h. Now picture him throwing up on your shoe, because that's totally what happened next. I think at that point she let me go to the nurse's office, but at that point there was only about 20 minutes left of school. I'm still pretty proud of myself for that one Source
My geometry teacher and I didn't get along. On an in-class assignment, where everyone did the work and turned it in before class was over (as a group), I got a 0 for not turning it in. Found it in her desk trashcan. Asked her why my assignment was in the trash. She wrote me up for being disrespectful, and tried to get me suspended for attempting to frame her Source
On 9/11 I watched the second plane crash into the tower, and then arrived at french class late.
The teacher asked "Why are you late?"...
Me: "well two planes just crashed into the world trade centre, i was watching it on the news, it's crazy"
Her: "How dare you lie to me with something so stupid. That's a horrible lie to tell, you're going to write me an apology essay if you want to stay in this class"
Me: "yeah... um... Bye."
thats when i dropped french and joined latin. She still wanted me to write her the essay, needless to say I didn't. She also was the genius that brought a cell phone and class list to class in case we acted up. The first and last phone call went like this:
"Hello, Mr. X, this is Ms. Quiverflaps from Myschool. We are in French class right now and I thought you'd like to know what your son has been doing to disrupt the class.... Oh i'm very sorry.... yes i agree that is my job, but I thought you might be able to... No, but you can call him at the head office if you have a complaint, but I really don't think it's necessary, I will not interrupt your workday again... Please accept my apologies, this will never happen again"
We were in HYSTERICS! she was told off by the dad she called so harshly apparently. That was the day she lost any control of the class Source
American History teacher in high school was having a movie day for all of his classes. As I entered to room, he was at the door of the class with a finger over his lips quietly saying "Shhhh, take your seat as quietly as possible." I moved into the room and saw that one of the students from his previous class had fallen asleep but didn't wake up or leave when the bell rang.
Everyone got into the class, sat down, and the teacher whispered "Let's just see how long he'll sleep" as he turned on the video for us to watch.
We sat there for about 20 minutes watching the video until the dude stirred a bit and raised his head to look at the TV. He watched it for about 20 seconds before looking around the room a bit. As soon as he saw someone he didn't recognize, he looked all around the room in panic. Then he grabbed his books and ran out the door as the whole class exploded with laughter Source
I fell asleep in Algebra II, and the teacher let one of the girls paint my toenails. I am male Source
I had a teacher that squeezed an orange into the sleeping kid's hair. In another case, he had everyone leave the room quietly and then put a sign on the door that told the rest of his classes to meet in the library. The kid slept through the whole school day. On 1 hand, that's funny. On another, I think it completely ignores the fact that most kids would not sleep through an entire school day, in a desk mind you, if there wasn't a good reason they're not getting a decent amount of sleep outside of school Source
My first chemistry class, the teacher was known for being rather eccentric. it was the very beginning of the year, and he was going over basic lab materials. When he asked what was the best method for transporting liquids, one of the smart a--es in the back of the class shouted out "Your hands!" It was still early in the year, but this guy had already given the teacher more than a fair amount of s---, so the teacher grabbed his beaker, filled it with water and went back to the smart a--. He calmly suggested that he hold out his hands and we could test his method.
Smarta-- dutifully held out his hands thinking he would call his bluff and the teacher poured the entire beaker of water in to them.
"It seems my beaker work better than your hands."
He turned out to be my favorite teacher of all time Source
Me, my buddy and a bunch of friends skipped first class to go out to breakfast in high school. We went to a Denny's-type of greasy-spoon diner, in total there were about twenty of us. My buddy, at the end of the meal bets me the price of his breakfast that he cant chug all the little shot glasses of maple syrup on the table. I agree and he starts blasting through heaps of the syrup, just throwin em back. Around 15 he starts slowing down and looking pale. He gets to 18 and gives up. We then go back to school for our second class: Geometry with Miss Cankles herself...Queen Manatee who was really mean, ill tempered and a bad teacher...the kind that likes to hear her own voice and undermine the students by picking on them. Half way through the class my buddy...now GREEN is waving his arms to be called on but Miss Manatee is ignoring him intentionally. He then stands up and bolts for the door; with surprising speed the instructor quickly oozes her bulk into the doorway blocking his path. "WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?!" she moos at him poking him hard in the chest with her sausage finger. Weakly my friend says "the nurse" she turns BRIGHT RED and screams in his face about being disrespectful to his elders and betters and that he will be serving a thousand painful detentions cleaning her toenails or something. He turns meekly to walk back to his seat and she grabs him "I'm not done with you yet!" As she whips him around to face her and as she OPENS her MOUTH to yell again my friend loses it. He pukes up his MASSIVE lumberjack, grand slam omelet pancaketastic maple syrup soaked breakfast into her horseface and (gloriously) into her gaping mouth Source
Maybe not "d--k" but certainly hilarious...
I took a level two Japanese class in college, where one day the teacher arrives with a bag of Japanese candy and passes it around the room. He said we could take as much as we wanted, so of course we all took more than one (and one guy took about 25). The teacher then announced that for every piece of candy we took, we would have to say one sentence about ourselves Japanese.
The guy that took 25 pieces was pretty screwed Source
On a test for a materials class, the instructor left the correct answer out of the four possible choices on one question. She had given the lecture 3 days before the test and I had it underlined in my notes. After the test, the entire class was in an uproar. She told us we were wrong. People were showing her their class notes and a couple of guys had recorded the lecture and played it back to her. She refused to give anyone credit for that question and there were about five others that were hotly debated. I think she gave credit on one question out of the six that were contested Source
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