Which teacher did you hate most at school?

[equationgirl]

I think you win too

Shame you're not still a teacher, you're obviously good at it, but it's all the other stuff that goes with being a teacher that makes it such a hard job now.

 

[WouldBe]

My Physics A'level teacher. I was his pet hate.

Each year he would chose a pupil to 'victimise'.

He lost my homework every week even when it had to be handed in through the deputy head to ensure I had done it.

 

[bluestreak]

Mr Stallard the PE teacher - Hating PE teachers seems to be a common thing - I don't know what they teach them at training college but it's neither to encourage kids to enjoy exercise or to be civil in any way shape or form

funnnily enough our PE teachers were ok.

there was mr wookey (or chewie to his mates) who was a massive and friendly-abusive guy who called me a scumbag and picked me by my sideburns on numerous occasions because i was an utter failure at every single sport or exercise that has ever existed. despite this, unlike some teachers who despised those who were shit at their subject, he remained jovial, and when i pretty much stopped doing PE altogether when i was 14 he respected this on the whole and very rarely dragged me from behind a copy of the nme in a quiet corner. oooh, i forgot he used to call my mum a scumbag too, because i'd dictate sicknotes to her, and she'd sabotage them.. for example one began "dear wookey..." and another said something along the lines of "please excuse blue from games as he says he's rubbish and hates it". mr wookey was also a maths teacher, and could never be confused with the classic PE-teacher befuddlement lines such as "what time is it" or "your shoelaces are untied". mr wookey once, armed with a cricket bat, saw off a massive gang of kids from another school who'd come for a ruck. any chuck norris fact could be replaced with dave wookey facts.

there was mr gervais, who was massive, and was also a combination of friendly and abusive, and was generally well liked. i believe he was also a geography teacher, and was thus also immune to basic trickery...

unlike the third male PE teacher... his name i can't remember but he was italian in ancestry and was well known for collecting bedpost notches amongst girls who had left the school. he was thick as fuck, apparantly, though i never had any dealings with him.

for a while there was also a guy who was doing some sort of commuity work at our school, football outreach scheme, though i don't know who he played for. he was at a few div 3 sides over the years, and i once saw he score a nice goal on soccer AM or whatever... however when he was helping train future div 3 footballers at my school he was apparantly a goalkeeper. nothign wrong with that you say, except for the fact that he only had one hand. i wish i could remember his name... we used to call him butterstump, as that's what he'd say when a goal slipped through his, er, stump... there were even butterstump actions... i'm actually weeping with the effort of not collapsing in laughter just recalling butterstump right now... it wasn;t mean or anything, we quite liked the fella, it was just the absurdity of the one-handed goalie... did he jam a glove on his stump we wondered, then wrap tape round it to hold it on...

 

[Prince Rhyus]

The entire Art, Music and English departments at my old secondary school. Between the three of them they managed to crush any inspiration I had for all of those subjects and it was many years before I could get back into them. Hence my ingrained hostility to Art and English teachers in General.

My old university. Sorry people but you're a holiday camp for the spawn of the wealthy. Only when tuition fees rise beyond a certain level will people wake up and find out that 7 hours of contact time per week really isn't acceptable and that universities will have to come up with more imaginative ways (as will students) of learning other than lectures.

 

[LilMissHissyFit]

Mrs Garnon, absolute bully, I recall her being like cruella de ville with beads and long nails and she would clack the beads as she pulled them and shrieked at children.

She used to torture children for fun( yes really) and the the particularly memorable things she did to me included telling the whole class I had a problem going to the toilet( I had a UTI) making me stand on the table and repeat nasty things like "Im adopted which means my mother didnt care for me or want me so got rid of me"

and people wondered why I was bullied like mad.I was so scared of her I regularly soiled myself with fear

Eventually I climbed a fence ( which is still there and now Im an adult I estimate at about 8ft high ) and escaped school , ran all the way home across 3 main roads about 1/2 a mile and thank god mum was home..

I was 6

So Mrs Garnon who taught in Parklands school in Swansea in the 1970's/early 80'sor if you ever knew her or taught with her... thats what she was like. If you dont like it sue me

 

[fortyplus]

quite a few of the teachers at my midlands prep school in the 60s were evil.

The headmaster was very scary but he talked nicely to the parents, who thought he was wonderful. (they were paying enough). He taught French and would hit boys round the head with a text-book, keeping his finger inside to keep the place and, possibly, to moderate the blow. It bloody hurt though. Mind you I can now speak French quite well.

But this I can't forgive him. He was a jazz enthusiast, and organised a compulsory school Jazz Club, at which he and his friends would play. We sat, 100 or so small boys dressed in maroon blazers and grey flannel shorts, neatly in rows in the assembly hall. A more inappropriate setting for the music would be hard to imagine. To this day, I can't bring myself to say that I like jazz, because anything that odious man liked (and forced us to listen to) must be wrong. The fact is, though, that most of the music I now love is heavily jazz-influenced. None of it is yer actual jazz, of course (but it's only a name).

 

[Pip]

I just wrote a huge long post and lost it
Lets try again.

The teachers in my primary school were all fine. There was one woman who I didn't like and who didn't like me, but she didn't teach me so I didn't give a shit. A few years after I left primary school she was murdered in South Africa, and I still didn't give a shit.

There were three teachers I didn't like in my first year of secondary school:

The number one spot goes to Mr. Williamson, who was our art teacher. In our first lesson, on our first day, he got us all to draw self portraits. When we'd finished and handed them in, he held up my best friend's and completely laid into it. For about half an hour he pointed out everything wrong with it, told her she couldn't draw for shit and dreaded the thought of teaching her, before finally ripping it up. Throughtout all his abuse she was in tears and it was horrible. We were 11 for fucksake

Our history teacher was Ms. Davies and she was fucking mental. She had a go at me for answering questions correctly (wtf??), persecuted about half the girls in the class and often had her beloved grown up son sit in on lessons .One day as we were lining up outside her classroom she snuck up on me and jabbed me in my back. I turned round with a start and accidentally (I swear) elbowed her in her tits. She went CRAZY, hysterically screaming that now she'd get breast cancer, and as punishment tried to make me sit on my own on a table in the corner of the classroom with screens around me (again, wtf?) for all the rest of my lessons. I was a bit of a bolshy cunt so I went apeshit in return and refused each time. Every History lesson for the rest of my time at that school (not long) was instead spent in the referral room.

Finally, Miss Taylor was our cooking and sewing teacher. She was a shit teacher who taught us sweet fuck all of any use, and was generally rude and disrespectful to us. She picked on (a bit of a theme, right?) the meekest and least popular kid in our class about the most ridiculous things. One time he had to leave early to go to a doctor's appointment, and she asked him what time he had to go. He replied "forty past two" and she was like "forty past two? FORTY PAST TWO? You don't say forty past two you idiot! You say two-forty or twenty to three! FORTY PAST TWO?" etc. etc. Another time he mentioned in passing that he believed in ghosts, which she immediately seized upon and constantly teased him for - things like slamming the door in his face as he walked into class and going "ooh, I think the classroom's haunted, Billy" or "ooh, mind the ghosts don't get you, Billy" as we left at home-time. We were still only eleven. As I've mentioned in another thread, me and my best friend later lured her into a trap which resulted in her getting her long hair (which she obsessed over) sewn onto a sheet of cardboard. We had swapped the pedals of our machines over and were standing behind our chairs waiting to be dismissed like the rest of the class. My friend said there was something wrong with her machine, and stepped aside, Miss Taylor came and had a look, turned the machine on and leant over it, at which point I stepped hard on the pedal beneath my foot and kept it there, all the while going "ohmigod Miss! Rah Miss! I think the machine's haunted Miss!"

After less than a year at that school I was kicked out and sent to an all girl's school which I didn't enjoy much. We had a teacher called Miss Innes who was a dance teacher but taught us English and advised the girls in my class to eat paper in order to lose weight . Shortly after I started, there were rumours of drug taking (the two weren't connected) so our lockers and bags were emptied and inspected. She found my diaries (I was getting counselling and my counseller had advised me to keep a diary to accurately gauge how I was progessing, so in one I recorded very detailed and personal thoughts and descriptions of my moods, and in the other wrote about normal 12 year old things like who I fancied and who I hated). For reasons I don't understand, Miss Innes read both in full to our whole year group of about 100 girls. I waited until she'd finished and then left and didn't go back. And that was the end of my schooling! Good fucking riddance say I. I had a good laugh with my peers, but the teachers ruined it for me.

 

[shakespearegirl]

So I am told

In kindergarten on my first day a teacher picked me up wouldn't put me down, I bit her really hard on the breast. I got expelled from kindergarten

 

[Pip]

In kindergarten on my first day a teacher picked me up wouldn't put me down, I bit her really hard on the breast. I got expelled from kindergarten

That's not very fair!

 

[Johnny Canuck3]

That's a tough one.

There's the teacher who gave me the strap in grade 2 for not doing my homework: seven years old. I had nightmares about that for years.

There's the mormon physics teacher who threw me out of class on the first day because I didn't have the text [we hadn't been informed what the text was yet]. Mormon asshole; I never went back.

There was the grade ten phys ed teacher who grabbed me on either side of my waist, touched his fingers through my body, and lifted me off the ground. I got back at him one day in wrestling; he got on top of me and told me to fight, so I punched him in the face. I think he liked young boys.

There's too many to recount on a short afternoon. It's lucky I turned out how I did, and not a juvenile delinquent dropout.

I'll have to find out if some of these people are dead, so I can name them without fear of libel charges.