There are good teachers and there are bad teachers, and sometimes the difference between them is a fine line. Some of them try to motivate their students and some are just downright mean, but in either case, their words can have a lasting effect on their students. Then there are the teachers who truly cross the line and really cause some damage. These students know that feeling all too well, and they've come to commiserate and remember the worst things a teacher ever said to them.
At the age of nine, I lost my father in a horrific accident. I returned to school a few days later, and after attendance, the teacher said to me, "The class got together and sent flowers to your father's funeral. I paid your share, so make sure you bring in $2 tomorrow as I need to be paid back," and went on with lessons.
My sociology professor in college once stopped mid-lecture, looked around the room, and said, "Don't ever get road head while riding a motorcycle. There, don't say I never taught you anything," and then walked out an hour early.
We had an old German substitute teacher at my high school—like so old it looked like he could collapse at any given time. My school was predominantly white. We had around 20 black students total. The sub had asked one of these students to bring him a stapler or something like that, which the student brought to him.
His response, which got him fired immediately, was something like, “Wow, I didn’t expect one of your kind to be helpful. A lot of you people are like monkeys.” I’m pretty sure the only reason that the student didn’t punch him in the face is that the teacher would’ve crumbled into dust.
My design and technology teacher really resented that I had very little interest in her subject. She asked me what I wanted to do when I left school. I told her I was going to do something with music. She told me to be successful at that someone had to be either extremely talented or very hardworking...and I was neither.
During English class, we’re watching Tomorrow When the War Began. Those of you who have seen the movie know they start the movie talking about intercourse. The teacher said, “Intercourse is not that great. I have actually not done it before.” He's a full 30-year-old man and said that to a bunch of 14-year-olds. The old days.
The teacher was using an example to illustrate a concept. He was a very nice, bubbly man who we all liked. He pointed at a random student and said, "For example, Bob, imagine you're adopted-" The second the words left his mouth, he realized he'd made a terrible mistake. Almost half the class cringed as they knew what Bob was going to say, "Um, I am adopted." We watched the gears turn in his head.
The poor teacher just looked like he was freaking out in his mind, “Oh no…I can’t say sorry because that implies being adopted is bad…uh…” The silence was palpable as he tried to come up with something to say. He eventually just turned to another kid, "...are you adopted?" "No," "Ok so, now, imagine Steven is adopted-"
During one year of high school in a bio class, the students were fooling around in class not doing their work, and the young, late 20s, professor yelled, “you all stop jerking off!” Then she started turning red as she realized what she had just said. You can only imagine how that went in a room full of 16-17-year-olds.
I had a professor that had given us an in-class assignment. He was an awful teacher, and we were first-year students, so we didn't finish it. He told us to take it home and finish it and when we were done to, "Bring it to me. Bring it to daddy." He was Greek and didn't get it, so we all held back our giggles and left.
I was 9. My teacher asked the class what we wanted to be when we grew up. One kid said he wanted to be a garbage man. The teacher started a rant saying that jobs like that were for the lowest most unintelligent people in society and that he should aspire to be better than that. She asked why he wanted to be one anyway.
"Because my dad's one," said the kid, who was now in tears.
I was 13 in seventh grade. My homeroom teacher was Mr. Baker. I lived in a neighborhood a few blocks away from a park, and I was finally old enough to walk there by myself. I was overweight, and I had started walking there almost every day. I would walk the track for hours and then walk back home. It was a positive for me.
It would have probably led to healthier choices down the line. Then Mr. Baker said something so hurtful it just broke me. One day during free period, he called out my name. In front of kids I'd known my whole life plus a few new people, he said he’d seen me walking. Laughing, he said he had to wait ten minutes for me to move out of the way because I was blocking half the road.
Most of the class laughed with him. I had to sit there holding it all in until the bell rang. Then I went to the bathroom and sobbed. I never walked to the park again. I was afraid to leave my house for a really long time. That was so uncool and messed me up for a long time. People really suck for absolutely no reason.
My sister once had a teacher tell the class that they had to write a paper on a “famous Egyptian. You know, like Socrates.” My sister was given an in-school suspension for disrupting class with her laughter. She appealed it, and in the appeal meeting with our mom and the principal, the teacher insisted it was true he was.
The suspension was canceled, my sister didn’t have to write the paper, and, as far as I know, that teacher is still working at the same school.
By far the worst thing a teacher said was what my grade 6 teacher screamed at us. We'd been doing something kids do, probably talking over her, and she went off at a class of thirty 12-year-olds screaming, "I hope you all get your heads bashed in at high school." 9/10 great teacher.
I had a history teacher explain to the 15-year-old girls in the class that it’s important to go to high school. His reasoning made my blood run cold. He said, “Because how else are you going to find a man that earns money, my ladies? Only after you’ve found him can you stay home.” The guy was 45, and it was 2015. He was overall a real jerk of a person.
A classmate lost his father who hit a tree with his motorcycle. A couple of days after the accident, the first day my classmate went to school again, our physics teacher decided that it’s a good moment to teach the "speed doesn't kill you, acceleration does" lesson with the example of a motorcycle driving into a tree.
I was in fifth grade, and there were a few students who weren't getting great test scores. So, during our lesson one class, our teacher called out some of those students and basically painted a really morbid picture of what their future would look like. She said they'd end up working at McDonald's for minimum wage making little.
She said they’d be barely making enough to pay rent in a garbage apartment with no way to pay for food, electricity, or anything else.
In history class, a kid punched the kid in front of him in the back of the head. The teacher saw this and said, "Now he's going to punch you in the head, and you’re all going to sit there and watch because there's nothing you can do about it."
"I'll squeeze your balls, little man!" It was an all guys high school, and the teacher was the headmaster/Catholic brother/teacher. He was saying it as a follow up to a kid acting up and being a punk. He said, "Oh, you think acting up means you have balls?" The kid said, "Yeah," and then he gave that gem response.
The teacher said that all we had to do to understand a reading was to try harder. This said immediately after somebody who was visually impaired told her that no accommodations had been provided, so "trying harder" was kind of out of the realm of possibility. The class lost a lot of respect for that teacher that night.
In my freshman year of high school, my classmate called somebody a "chode" in gym class. The gym teacher asked him what that meant, and the student explained, "A chode is a good student." The next day, the teacher welcomed the class by saying, "Good morning, chodes." Honestly, at 13/14, that's about as funny as it gets.
I had this English sub. He was clearly hungover all the time, and he'd take naps almost every day. When he was awake, he was a horrible teacher. He would swear openly at the class and ask us what we were doing that day even though we didn’t know. One time, he was hitting on some freshman girl loud enough for the whole class to hear. He was later removed.
When I was in 10th grade in 95/96, our geometry teacher told the whole class she had leukemia. She was an amazing and beloved teacher. It broke everyone’s heart in class. I am not proficient in math at all, and the sub teacher didn't teach the subject very well. Our teacher returned for the last semester of the year.
She basically passed everyone in class, including myself, who had showed effort to learn even if they should have had a failing grade. She was gone that summer. Sometimes, the "worst thing someone says" isn't ignorant or cruel. It’s just a statement of fact, which could be a hard lesson for people to learn at that age.
While asking the class what they'd like to study at university, hyping up everyone so they could help choose courses, my year’s "welfare adviser" stopped at me and out loud in front of the class said I’m "not cut out for university" and maybe a more obtainable goal would be "like a cleaning lady." I start uni next week. Screw that guy.
In my sophomore year of high school, we had this seriously obnoxious kid who annoyed us every day. He would always make these inappropriate jokes that would never land well. He complained about how hard his life was in school and claimed that the teacher loved making us miserable. The teacher had enough one day and snapped. It was glorious.
Staring at him directly in the eyes, he shouted, "You don’t know what stuff I put up with, you little jerk!” This was a teacher who had several years of teaching experience, was a US ranger and an EMT. He was a very nice and friendly individual who could be lenient. He taught three different classes at my school.
My teacher's name was "Harry Balls." No, really. He was a substitute teacher who wrote his name on the board and said, "I will give you three minutes to laugh, but then we gotta get to work. "
I taught a class of fifth-grade hard knocks who were reading extremely below level, and I’d been switched from my happy second-grade class mid-school year because their behavior was that out of control. I always told them to keep their hands in their lap during carpet-learning time. I wouldn’t feel bad if I stepped on them.
They didn't care any about rules much less care about me. Well, one day I was wearing heels. As I stepped through them as they sat on the carpet, I accidentally drove the stick of my heel into a kid’s hand. I not-so-silently swore and immediately asked the kid if he was okay. Some kids smile but didn’t scream anything.
From that day on, their behavior issues improved, and we got some extremely beneficial academics in. I think them knowing I was human too and that I did care about them changed everything. There was also once when my sub doing high school roll call called out for, "True Ho? Is True Ho here?" The girl's name was Thu Ho.
I suck at math and have been diagnosed with dyscalculia. I had to go up and solve a problem on the whiteboard. Somehow, I got it right. "Wow. Even a blind squirrel can find a nut once in a while," the teacher said. Why would she even say that?! I hated her and school in general.
One time, the teacher was leaning over my friend's shoulder to help him with his work, and, while she was explaining, she accidentally burped right in his face. She walked away completely embarrassed, and from that moment on, everybody would fake burp whenever they’d see her. She ended up leaving the school eventually.
I have bad anxiety attacks, and everybody in my class knows it including my teachers. Once, after an oral test, I was almost crying and trying to explain myself. She looked at me like she didn't believe me and said, "You can't get anxiety in this situation. It's impossible." I wanted to hit her so bad. It was so awful.
In high school on the first day of class, my calculus teacher told the entire class, “I’m being forced to teach Calculus and don’t want to teach it so here we are.” That ruined the respect and class morale for the entire school year. Many students just didn’t do homework and barely worked. For others, it was an easy A.
My Spanish teacher in high school announced to the entire class that I was "a terrible excuse for a Christian," because I didn't turn in my homework. My response was to stop doing anything in her class. Period. By the end of the year, she was so tired of me she said she would pass me if I passed the final. I got an A.
It was my first year as a high school teacher teaching a subject I loved, but I was honestly in over my head. My students were pretty understanding about my inexperience, and I had a sarcastic, self-deprecating sense of humor that they seemed to like. I borrowed a lab room one day. The pull-down screen had a rope cord.
It was tied to the handle to pull it. As I finished explaining a new concept and set the kids to work, I raised the screen. Somebody in another period had tied a noose with the cord. So, I, the “responsible” adult in a room of 17-year-olds, said, "and here's a noose for you in case you wanted to use it after all that."
Most of the kids laughed, but I was mortified and immediately apologized. Almost a decade later, I am still friendly with some of the students who were in that period, and they won't let me live it down. One of them tells me that's the moment I became her favorite teacher. Thank God no one reported me to the principal.
I used to have a teacher with a drinking problem. Once, while handing out textbooks, he slammed one down in front of a larger boy in our class, pointed at him, and said, “Don't eat it.” Yeah, the kid cried.
In sixth grade, an Indian girl was in our class and was getting teased because of the way she smelled. She didn't smell bad. She just smelled like Indian food, and our teacher would usually bring a student into the hall and discuss with them either about teasing or being teased. Well, she took this girl into the hall.
She had one of her talks with her. The teacher then came back into class. When she explained what she actually said, our jaws dropped. She told us all that she had a talk with the girl and explained to her that maybe her family could eat their more traditional foods on the weekends and more American foods during the week. I will never forget being 11-12 and thinking, "Is she crazy?"
I felt so bad for the girl. I told my mom about it when I got home that day, so my mom started packing me Syrian lunches and called the teacher and chewed her out for it. The teacher then apologized to the class and the little girl.
I was a metalhead with long hair. In ninth grade, my very terrible rude algebra teacher said I would OD before I ever graduated. I sent him an invite to my graduation and mentioned how I hadn't OD'd. He no-showed. But another teacher came. He said the guy was a jerk and would ask him why he didn’t show just to rub it in.
This one English teacher at my school once told a black kid to read a passage in some slavery novel to "read it blacker." It got on the news, and she eventually just quit. She also moved into my apartment building, and I occasionally run into her, which is pretty funny.
An English teacher once told the class, "Polar bears almost exclusively eat penguins." This was when we were about 16, and I was not good at literature, but I was good at science subjects and I was not this teacher’s favorite pupil. So, when she said this, I quickly argued back saying that she was wrong. She protested.
I explained that polar bears live in the Arctic Ocean, and, while there are various species of penguin, none of them live in the Northern Hemisphere. This was an open argument during class, and she offered to Google the answer. So, she looked for it. When I was proven correct by the Internet, she sent me out of the class.
While I was in high school, my teacher was trying to bring up a PowerPoint on the projection screen. She still needed to log into her account. We all watched as she forgot to hit Tab to go to her password and typed in three swear words with no spaces. That was the quietest I have ever heard a high school classroom get.
"How dare you write that? You're practically emotionally handicapped! It's psychopathic!" A teacher said that to me at 12 and not even half a year after I lost my mom. She made us write an essay about our home life, which in retrospect was a messed-up excuse to snoop into my situation. She didn't like how I used humor.
I used it to cope, but she pulled me out of the class to yell at me for five minutes for not being sad enough. I don't even remember what I wrote besides cracking some jokes about my dad's outfits.
In tryouts for the school's annual Christmas play, the teacher directing the show denied the most talented and well-suited student the part of "Virgin Mary" because she was black. The teacher said the play would be criticized if a black girl played her since, “Everyone knows that Mary was white—as God intended."
In eighth grade, we had a new teacher whose name I’ve forgotten, but we called her "Drawer-woman" because whenever she talked, her jaw did this motion that resembled a drawer opening and closing. I was always a good student and never made trouble in her class, but there was just something I didn't like about the woman.
Somewhere around the middle of eighth grade, I started wearing contact lenses for the first time, and my doctor told me to bring these special drops with me in case my eyes were ever dry. One time during her class, my eyes were really dry, and I asked her if I could go to the bathroom so I could use the drops for my eyes.
Her face soured. She said I was lying because she was a “medical professional” and knew that I didn't actually need them. She took my eye drops and gave them back to me after class was finished. A few weeks after that, I was late for school so I wasn't very careful putting on my contacts that morning. My left eye hurt.
On my way to school, it felt painful, and while I was in class again, I noticed I couldn't see well in my left eye. Then it hit me. The lens strayed away and got stuck on the side of my eye. I couldn't get the lens out, so I started panicking and crying. I asked to go home, and she screamed "FINE! GET OUT OF MY CLASS.”
A teacher stood me up in front of my class for them to say, "stupid," in unison. That really did a lot for my fifth-grade self-esteem, especially considering my dad was in rehab and the reason I was called stupid was that I lost my homework at said rehab visiting him. But, jokes on her. I’m an accomplished scientist now.
In middle school, a teacher grabbed me from the lunch tables and dragged me to the principal’s office. After grilling me and telling me I know what I did, they finally revealed to me that the teacher said she witnessed me suggestively sucking my thumb while staring at a female friend of mine. I was just biting my nail.
The woodshop teacher was telling an Asian kid he didn't really need to wear a face shield on the lathe, you know, because of the eyes. He meant it as a joke, but even at 15, we all kind of hushed and looked at each other like, “Dude, did he really just say that?”
When I was 12, my teacher said my knitting had too many errors in it. It only had four, and she ripped it to shreds. I was supposed to start all over again but excused myself and went to the bathroom where I cried for the rest of the lesson.
In first grade, there was a boy in our class, Reggie, who lived in a van. Most of us kids knew about it because a counselor had come around to talk to the class after someone had teased him about not changing his clothes. The counselor did a great job explaining to us that now was when he needed support and friendship.
So, us kids were all pretty nice to him after that. Then after winter break, we’re all sitting at sharing time talking about what we got for Christmas. Reggie said he got a Super Nintendo. We knew this probably wasn't true, but we went along with it so he wouldn't feel bad, but the teacher totally called him out on it.
She said, "You've got a Nintendo in your van? Nobody likes a liar, Reggie." The kid just wilted. It was awful and just the pure lack of compassion she showed has stuck in my memory for 25 years.
I had a tax teacher in college point out a student who was bound to a wheelchair and had an aid who’d take notes for him and tell him that he wouldn't get far in life because of his disability. And that was just the way his life would be. And the teacher knew this because “his mother was bound to a wheelchair as well.”
That made me so angry. Sure, he's going to have a tough time, but no teacher has the right to tell a student what they can or cannot accomplish in life. That teacher was a jerk. I told our coordinator and wrote it on our end of year evaluations. I’m not sure if he returned to be honest.
I was in elementary school and got confused at lunchtime and threw my food out early and wandered outside for recess. Realizing my mistake and having no idea what to do, I went back inside and told a lunch lady and asked her what I should do. She dragged me by the arm to the center of the lunchroom with the live mic.
Then she informed everybody of my mistake and how no one should do what I did because it was a bad thing. She told everybody I was going to get expelled. I was sobbing by then. I kept asking her what expelled meant, but she didn't answer me. All I knew was that it was a bad thing. I never told my mom until years later.
Mrs. Nudell was my third-grade math teacher in 1987. I missed two weeks of school due to a horrible case of chickenpox and fell behind with whatever it was that we were working on. A month after I came back to school, I was still struggling with math, but I was too young and scared to ask the teacher to explain it to me.
I failed a test. So, Mrs. Awful Nudell brought my third-grade self to the front of the room and shamed me. She told the entire classroom that I "will NEVER succeed in math." I ended up sobbing and going to the nurse with a "stomach ache." I'll never forget how awful she was. I struggled with math for the rest of school.
My sister’s class had a teacher who got so fed up with them all that she said, "you kids make me so mad, I would...hmm, which one of you won't tell on me? You!" The teacher picked a small quiet student, brought her to the front, and physically shook her yelling, "This is what I would do to you all if you were my kids!"
My sister told my mom about this, and my mother brought down fire and brimstone on the school and got the teacher fired for mistreatment.
I'm not a native English speaker. However, we do have English lessons in my country in elementary school. When I was in third grade, I had this English teacher who told us “French fries" meant "strawberries." Yes, I'm not making this up. The worst part was that in our workbook, we had to draw burgers with French fries.
I thought, "Huh, that’s a bit weird, isn't it? Eating burgers with strawberries on the side, haha." So, I went home that day and told my aunt who also thought it was a weird combination and searched "French fries" in the dictionary and found out the true meaning. The next class, I discreetly told him about the mistake.
I said, "I think you may be mistaken. “French fries” doesn’t mean “strawberries.” Well, he looked at me as if I had gone mad and told me, "'French fries' is just another way to say 'strawberries.'"
It was a new school year with a new teacher. His introduction was, "If you are loud, I will hit you with the chalk." We all thought it was very funny, but the next day, we learned what doom was because he never missed.
When I was in eighth grade, one of the boys snapped the bra of one of the girls. That led to a day without normal classes; boys and girls were separated, and the teachers talked to us about intimacy, growing up, and relations, and other things. There were three female teachers and one male teacher who talked to the boys.
The male teacher spoke first. He started talking—and it just got worse and worse... "You boys have to learn restraint. When you see Riley bend over, you cannot stare. Believe me, I know how hard it is not to stare. When Riley bends over I feel a stirring in my pants too. She really gets your blood pumping, I know. She really is a little sweet hottie, isn't she?"
By then, he was speaking to the ceiling addressing himself. "But we have to stay focused. We cannot waste our lives with fantasies of all the things we can do to that young body." The female teachers were staring at him wide-eyed. He turned red and shut up. I thought it was weird then at 13. Now, I know how bad it was.
The morning after parent’s night, a boy in the class was talking over the lesson for the 100th time that term, and the teacher said, “Johnny! This is exactly what I was saying to your mum last night.” The class burst into laughter, the teacher went red at the implication, and Johnny didn't talk over the lesson anymore.
We had a fairly new teacher. She’d been with us a few months, and it was her first year of teaching. There was a dude who was acting up in class. The teacher wound up yelling at him, "(Name)! Would you just shut up!?" We felt so bad for that teacher. She started crying and apologizing convinced that she would be fired.
The dude she yelled at was well known for being a clown. He actually went to the office and told them he 100% deserved it and it wasn't her fault at all. Everything turned out fine.
In fifth grade, my friend and I were screwing around during a D.A.R.E. song we had to practice singing in front of a bunch of parents or something. We were friends because we were the only non-white students in the entire school. The music teacher swore and shouted, "Hold on. Just stop!" and looked to my friend and me.
He was essentially threatening to haul us off the stage and beat us. We thought it was pretty funny actually, but we did stop screwing around after that. So, the next morning as we walked into the school, we both were called to some office we had never even known existed where every student who was a witness had to go.
We were called in one by one. When it was my turn to go inside, they told me that a student had told their parents, and the parents were really upset and demanded something be done about it. They just asked me to tell them exactly what he said and to answer some yes or no questions. I actually felt bad for the teacher.
I said at one point, "You're not gonna fire him, right? We made him mad by messing around. It wasn't really his fault." They told me to just keep answering questions. I saw him later that day packing his things. I realized in hindsight you can’t lose your temper with children like that, but I still kind of feel guilty.
We had a sub, and she wanted us to make some decorations out of paper for the classroom except only the girls could participate because, according to her, "Boys would just mess it up," so they had to just paint with some watercolors and stay quiet. Then another girl and I helped the teacher get some more colored paper.
She told us, "The boys are all like monkeys. You can't trust them with anything." The same teacher once threw a student's drawing in the trashcan during art class because it "wasn't good enough" when we were about 9-10-years-old.
I was not there, but we had this substitute teacher at our school who was this old white dude who would typically spend the entire class talking about all the good he had done for students in poorer neighborhoods. Now I recognize what he said as a white savior complex as he had said several casually offensive comments.
But back then, he was just kind of annoying and seemed to be bragging. We had horrible subs for that school, and he wasn’t that bad; or so we thought. This was 2008 at the end of the first semester when Obama was elected president for his first term. The next class after the election, this sub came into class.
He spent the entire hour and fifteen minutes going on a super offensive rant about Obama using numerous inappropriate words and comparing a black president to a frowned upon regime. The people who were in the class constantly talked about the infamous rant all the way through to graduation. We never saw that sub again.
The history teacher in my freshman year of high school in 1988 was a strange but interesting man. He was a teacher I’d visit after graduating. In his class, he was a bit terrifying. He carried a four-foot metal rod that he used as a pointer, but once, I saw him take the corner off the wooden desk where a student slept.
I don't remember what the topic of conversation was, but it must have been boring or he was pontificating about something, and one of the girls in the class let out a loud sigh; that sigh that's both dramatic yet a symbol of boredom and disdain at the same time. He stopped talking and then went quiet for a few seconds.
Then he chuckled and said, "Girl, you sound like someone was tickling your tuna." He chuckled again and continued on with the lesson while we all sat surprised wondering if we had really just heard him correctly. I remember the jaw-dropped look of surprise on her face. It pretty much stayed there the rest of the class.
We went to the lab with our chemistry class, and some of the kids were goofing off in a corner. The teacher yelled at them and they all spread out a little except the kid in the middle of the group. She asked him if he was, "this student" or "that student," who were the only two black students in my class. We all stared.
All of us were wide-eyed like, "Seriously?!" There was a roar of laughter and astonishment at the teacher’s ignorance and lack of sensitivity, especially since this was probably the middle or three-quarters of the way through the school year.
I was in choir in elementary school, and we were singing that song that goes, “happiness is...,” a bunch. Well, us kids were over pronouncing happiness too much for it to be fluid in music. We’re third graders, and we’re just like uh huh yes to the teacher. Mid-lesson she stopped and said the superintendent was coming.
The teacher, without missing a beat, went back to telling the class to stop overly pronouncing happiness and to just go ahead and not say the beginning. As the superintendent and principle were walking in, she said to, “just sing -ppiness.” The whole crowd went wild. I wish I was older to really register the reactions.
The first day, the teacher walked in and wrote his name on the board. It looked like it was pronounced as “Asman.” He announced right away that it was not and that you would be thrown out of his class if you pronounced it wrong. He did attendance and got to a French African name that looked like it’s an offensive word.
Not using his better judgment, he called out the word. The student had always dealt with this problem, corrected him, and wasn’t pleased. The new teacher blew up and shouted at this 16-year-old who’s not backing down. It took some time, but they both disappear. The teacher was never seen again. It was the first day.
A male teacher from my school was talking about the dress code to me and a friend of mine during the lunch period. He stated to us that he didn't like "seeing a bunch of fatties wearing short shorts," but then gestured towards a thin girl in short shorts going up the steps and said to us, "But that…That I don't mind."
I was asking teachers for animation advice and improving my drawing speed as I was not very happy with my skill level and was stressed about being left behind by my peers. I needed help—and instead, a teacher broke my heart. They said, "There are literally millions of other cute little Chinese girls just like you that are much better than you and can replace you."
In high school, there was a subject I really liked called Informatics 2, but it was mostly basics of graphic design and creative digital stuff in general. I was really inspired for my project we had to do and I really excelled in it. The professor Mr. V loved it and gave me an A+ and showed it to other groups of students.
And I learned he’d show that video presentation for students as an example of a well-done project. The other professor, Ms. M, who taught the same subject but not to my group, met me a few days later in the hall and told me, “I saw what you did for class. Congratulations! It's very good, but you shouldn't have done it."
I asked why. She said, “You've raised the bar for everyone else, so someone who would have gotten an A+ could now get a B or less." I took it as it was, and it’d kind of messed me up for a bit. Wish I could go back in time to tell her off. I'm not in charge of grading, and I've got the right to excel as much as I want!
I had a high school color-guard instructor say that she didn’t want to see any “jiggling” after our Thanksgiving break. That was bad enough, but what she said next was disturbing it's impossible to forget: "You ladies had better put your fingers down your throat if you can’t control yourselves.” One of the members had recently been hospitalized for anorexia nervosa. Her comment did not go over well.
My seventh-grade math teacher heard these ninth graders say he probably never gets any. Then he explained to the entire class that he sleeps with his ten years younger wife a lot and that they are in an open polyamorous relationship. He was also our homeroom teacher. There is a lot of lore behind this teacher. We met his wife too.
I had an art teacher who got caught drinking. Someone from the previous period told on her. The vice-principal came into our class and told her to come with him. We all heard her yell, "They drove me to drink!" from the hallway.
A teacher in elementary school would, after every test, pick the lowest scoring girl and boy and force them to hold hands, perform a brief marriage ceremony in front of the laughing class, and then announce, “Congratulations, you're a marriage of dumbos made in heaven,” then have the class sing, "Here Comes the Bride."
She’d have the two kids sit together at the side of the classroom for rest of the lesson and stay holding hands until the bell. It happened to me. Three weeks was about how long the teasing lasted, and six years was roughly how long me and the "groom" avoided speaking to each other after that out of residual humiliation.
My worst teacher asked me, “Didn’t your father ever teach you how to act?” I had to inform him that my father had passed on four years earlier. Two weeks later, my step-dad comes to pick me up for an appointment saying he’s here to pick up his child. When the teacher was over the phone with the office, he asked, “You mean the deceased father is here for pick up?”
All through high school, that teacher just kept doubling down and never showed remorse for what he had said. He would chase me into other classrooms because I had a hat on and I needed to take it off. This gave me the motivation to become the compassionate, empathetic, and awesome teacher that I am today. My kids always get the benefit of the doubt and I respect them.
It’s true what they say: money makes the world go round. In order to succeed in this life, you need to have a good grasp of key financial concepts. That’s where Moneymade comes in. Our mission is to provide you with the best financial advice and information to help you navigate this ever-changing world. Sometimes, generating wealth just requires common sense. Don’t max out your credit card if you can’t afford the interest payments. Don’t overspend on Christmas shopping. When ordering gifts on Amazon, make sure you factor in taxes and shipping costs. If you need a new car, consider a model that’s easy to repair instead of an expensive BMW or Mercedes. Sometimes you dream vacation to Hawaii or the Bahamas just isn’t in the budget, but there may be more affordable all-inclusive hotels if you know where to look.
Looking for a new home? Make sure you get a mortgage rate that works for you. That means understanding the difference between fixed and variable interest rates. Whether you’re looking to learn how to make money, save money, or invest your money, our well-researched and insightful content will set you on the path to financial success. Passionate about mortgage rates, real estate, investing, saving, or anything money-related? Looking to learn how to generate wealth? Improve your life today with Moneymade. If you have any feedback for the MoneyMade team, please reach out to [email protected]. Thanks for your help!
The Moneymade team
If you like humaverse you may also consider subscribing to these newsletters: