What's the old saying? "No more school, no more books, no more teachers dirty looks!" An appropriate mantra for some kids, after having to deal with the struggles of school- most notably, the mean teacher. Everyone had their own mean teacher during their time in school, in fact, one probably came to mind as soon as you read this. Well, we can't ALWAYS be the teacher's pet.
ImKrimzen asked: What's the unfairest way a teacher ever treated you but nobody else?
This could be a good opportunity for revenge.
"My P.E. teacher from middle school WATCHED me get bullied time and time again. One time, I stood up for myself in the locker room by cursing at a girl who had me PINNED up against a locker. She gave me detention and told me that it was my fault for drawing attention to myself and being a 'weird' kid.
She was always buddy-buddy with the popular kids. My eighth grade yearbook has her signature in it; it reads "I hope you make more friends in high school. One friend isn't gonna cut it"
This same teacher runs a campaign online for anti-bullying called #icanhelp. My little sister was a part of it. I think it's absolute horse s**t."
Bullying from teachers can cause major damage.Giphy
"I was in year 6 (10 years old). I had just started the year and sat with 5 of my friends on a table. I was always the joker of the bunch and would regularly get scolded for making my friends laugh. I was a child who could pay no attention and still get good grades so that's what I did all the while socialising and all the other things a 10 year old does at school.
After a few weeks of enjoying school with my friends the teacher decides enough is enough and moves me to a single desk by myself. So let me explain the layout of the room. The chalkboard was front and centre in a rectangular room with a concave of 5 tables with 6 students on each around it so everyone could see. This teacher put me at the back of the room facing a wall. Every time I would turn around I would be scolded and if I talked to anybody in the classroom I would have to stay in the classroom while everyone else could go out for break time.
I thought that this was extremely unfair however surely it couldn't last long right and I would be able to go back to my friends on the bigger tables in a week or so right? WRONG.
This b!tch kept me there for 10 months. I literally faced a wall every day having to work by myself for 10 f*cking months whilst the rest of the class did group activities and socialised. As the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months I could feel a gap forming between me and the rest of the class. I was basically the leper in the corner and this obviously impacted me massively.
Going from year 6 (primary school) to year 7 (Secondary school) is arguably the biggest move for students In the UK schooling system. So they normally send you in small groups of 3-5 I to your new classes together so you're not completely alone. But guess who had next to no human contact for 10 months and was scolded and punished every time he tried to socialise? That's right this guy. So guess who didn't have a group to go Into high school with? This guy.
Needless to say that year at a very vulnerable age has completely altered the way I deal with people now and I can honestly say that because of that year I haven't felt comfortable socialising or making friends since then. I'm 23 now and I still struggle and have zero friends.
This one small issue which could have easily being fixed by maybe moving me onto another table has caused me to be a loner for the last 13 years. Thanks Mrs. Stead."
Way to ruin art class.
"My art teacher at school hated me for no reason.
She usually scolded me for doing something I had not done, screamed at me. I was about 11, if I recall correctly.
I would often cry after her classes but never told my parents, as I tried to be an adult in their eyes and kept problems to myself.
The breaking point was when she refused to give me the points at the end of a semester and when I asked her to do so (as I was having perfect grades in other classes), she said that I had to bring 5 different projects FOR THE NEXT DAY.
One would be a picture drawn in watercolor, other with pencils, one picture made of paper clippings, one picture with gouache and something made of plasticine.
I spent the whole night doing it AS A KID. I was trying so hard, and those were really nice works.
The next day when I turned them in she threw them to the ground and said there was no way I could do it by myself and that she won't accept something my parents did for me.
I had a breakdown and another teacher, who saw me in the hallway, had to call my parents. I finally confessed to them what was going on and they unleashed hell on that teacher, along with the principal. The principal was a very cool lady and she gave me an order to go to her whenever I felt that this teacher would be bullying me. As the teacher was standing there, red of shame and anger.
Never had a problem with her ever since."
That teacher was met with some bad karma.
"I was a heavyset teenager. Over one summer in lost a significant amount of weight. This is relevant, I promise.
Our Family & Consumer Sciences teacher hated me for absolutely no reason and if I ever had a wrong answer I was ridiculed with it in front of the entire class for the entire period. She was just really mean.
After I had lost weight our class had to order t-shirts for some reason and I ordered a medium. She confronted me in front of the class again, telling that she wears a large and theres no way i could wear a smaller size than her. I called home that day out of embarrassment. Skip ahead a month and the shirts come in. She makes sure everyone's shirt fits to her standard for the class picture. She had ordered me an XL and it swallowed me whole and came almost to my knees. When I complained she just told me I could stand in the back for the picture and left to go change into her shirt.
When she came back she hadn't changed and she was mad. She stormed right up to me and pulled me aside where no one could hear and said I had to swap shirts with her because she didn't like how mine fit me after all. I went and changed, giving her the XL shirt and putting on the L that fit better, but was still really loose. When she came back into the classroom she was even angrier. The XL fit her just right. Her hate for me doubled from that day forward. As soon as I could I dropped her class and took woodwork and aquaculture."
That's just rude.
"7th grade in US, so maybe 13 years old. Had geography class with a teacher who seemed to just have it out for me, in a way that no other teacher I had ever had before or after that did. In addition to just always falsely accusing me of cheating off other classmate's exams, would often just throw out my homework right after collecting it.
Our homework was often to draw and recreate maps of various parts of the world. My handwriting certainly isn't great, but I definitely made it legible. But he'd collect all the maps at the front of the class, just flip through them to find mine, take a look at it for about 1 second, hold it up in front of the class as an example of what shouldn't be done, and toss it in the garbage.
Did really well in the class, mostly B's and some A's. But he would always give me a C or D in the "effort" category, keeping me off what they call "honor roll". The whole experience still pops into my mind occasionally to this day."
Kudos for standing up to that teacher.
"I have a wonderful story. In high school, I was called "Gory" by basically everyone. The origins of the nickname are not affectionate, I always hated it, no matter how popular it eventually made me.
One day in High School, I was in Science Class and I was spaced out for some reason. I was pretty depressed at the time, all the bullying and stuff was taking its toll. My teacher noticed I was not paying attention, so he picked this moment to go "You listening, Gory?".
The class went nuts. Kids know what the name meant, it was bullying. Even the kids that didn't bully me were contributing to the bullying just by calling me the name. Bullies laughed, some others were speechless with shock.
The class went silent - I stood up and delivered a pretty angry monologue about how just by calling me that name, he's as much of a bully as everyone else. It isn't a nice name, and I hate it, and how disgusting it is for him to call me that. He replied that I shouldn't have spoken to him like that - I threw a book at him and walked out the room.
I was never punished for throwing a book, btw, because many, many teachers both ignored and contributed to my abuse in school. Eventually I could do basically what I wanted and no one cared.
Another teacher sat me at the front of the class just because I was 'Gory'. He claimed it was so no one else could pick on me, but it was so he could verbally abuse me in front of the class.
High School was f**king hell."
We hope she got fired.Giphy
"My teacher would talk sh*t about me whenever I wasn't there. She said that I'm a waste of taxpayers dollars. She even showed the classroom my grades and I know they were telling the truth when they told me what she'd done because they were correct in repeating it to me. This was in 7th grade."
"In middle school I had a P.E. teacher who always had an issue with me even though I would listen and follow directions. Well, during the beginning of the year you're supposed to get a combination lock for your gym locker.
My parents got me a pink one and one day we head to the girls locker rooms to get changed and my lock is no where to be found and she gave me hell for it. Saying that if I don't have a lock she'd take all of my things from the locker and put in her office and I'd have to get it after class. When my mom talked to the school and got administration involved she tried to say that my mom was harassing her. The next year my sister and I went towards the vacant lockers. We saw a pink combination lock and tried the lock combination for it. Low and behold it was the same one that mysteriously 'disappeared.'"
Ok, that's just f**ked up.
"Had a teacher tell the class I was depressed and probably going to kill myself and that I shouldn't be so moody.
She was pretty much a bully and would talk a lot about me behind my back when I wasn't there and the only reason I knew was a couple of different people from the class told me.
Seems like my entire life people have been trying to get me to kill myself and I never understood what I did to deserve it.
She can go back to teaching cooking and stay out of my business, I'm still here fifteen years or so later."
We'd be pissed too.
"He called me out in front of my peers for acting a fool, even though everyone else was always acting a fool.
Afterwards, he told me he'd done that to make an example out of me. I was pissed for YEARS, to the point of skipping dude's funeral.
Didn't realize until later that meant that my peers actually looked up to me."
They just did what they were told to.
"My maths teacher really made my life miserable.
Between the ages of 14 and 16 I hit a big growth spurt, I went from 5 feet 7-8 inches to 6 feet 2-3 inches. As you can imagine, teenage me was very awkward with these suddenly huge limbs. In school the desks were too low, and I had to sit in a very clumsy folded way.
For some reason this really offended my maths teacher. She used to literally scream at me to sit up straight and position my legs "properly" When I actually did this, my straightened legs simply lifted the desk up from the floor. This only made her more furious and she would scream even more. I had no idea what I was supposed to do about this."
That'll mess a kid up for good.
"I didn't have an attention disorder, but probably until high school I did act out a lot in school. I tended to get done with my work earlier than most in my classes and would get bored and start messing around. The class clown role always appealed to me back then...
An English teacher of mine in elementary school really couldn't handle me. It was an accelerated class. English was my favorite subject, but he never kept me occupied.
There's a long list of absolutely awful and debasing stuff he'd subject me to. This one is probably the worst. I'm not gonna give out my real name, so for this story let's say it's "John". After getting fed up with me one day, the teacher pulled my desk to the very front of the class, put a 3-walled kind of cubicle like wall on it, and told the class (and me) it was "John's World." I wasn't to leave "John's World" under any circumstances, I wasn't going to be called on for any questions, I wasn't to participate whatsoever. I was supposed to sit there, listen, and not interact with anyone else.
I'm not sure how long that went on, whether it was weeks or months or what. But it was a long stretch. That was traumatizing for 10 year old me. I loved the subject. I loved writing and reading , and I was an A student in the accelerated curriculum. But because he couldn't actually stimulate and teach me, he ridiculed me instead. As did the class after that... "John's World" did not help me in popularity that year."Lethereat
Double standards are the worst.Giphy
"So I had this teacher in college, we had to do a project on a dish that represents our ethnic background. I'm white, with lots of different European countries in my family history so I decided to go with a dish that's unique to my Canadian province because that's where I'm born and I identify with it, and my province influences my cooking a lot.
The rest of my classmates were all first generation immigrants, from Europe, China, Japan, etc. 2 other classmates are second generation Canadian and have really cool and unique backgrounds so were able to choose a food that represented their upbringing.
Basically what I'm saying is I'm fairly boring but picked something important to me and something with cultural significance (just like everyone else and just as the project asked).
I did my presentation and handed in my project, with the essay written according to the rubric given.
My teacher handed my paper back to me and said I didn't do it right. She said I didn't write the history of the dish. I did, though. The dish originated from Greece, and was developed in the 1970s. I had the name, the restaurant, the inspiration, everything.
Nope, she wanted to know where the Greek dish originated (Turkey) and then where the Turkish dish originated. I basically ended up writing a history that went back 800,000 years. It was flat out ridiculous.
Some of the other students did dishes that were similar in history (because really, all our food comes from the same place eventually), and they all had about a 1 paragraph blurb on the history. Maybe a couple hours work?
My paper was ten pages and took several extra days (full time course, worked part time).
F**k I hated that teacher. Actually I still hate her."
That's just creepy.
"My teacher follows me into the bathroom and listens to everything I do "to make sure I don't do anything stupid".
And blames me for random s**t. No clue why."
Some teachers just don't know how to do their jobs.
"7th grade, I have a teacher who decides that backpacks aren't allowed in her class. I bring mine one day because she's the last class I have and having to go to the lockers to get my bag made me miss the bus. I explain this and she makes me write the student expectations page as a "punishment", just to give a smug look as she tears them in my face. By the next week, everyone brings their bags anyway and she never said anything again.
Later that year, we get an assignment on Vietnam and that included making something to be physically displayed. She goes around asking what some ideas were and I decide on making the country shape out of Lego, and she looks me in the eyes and says that's fine.
Fast forward to a day before it's due and I've used about $40 of my own goddamned money to build this just for her to tell me she wasn't accepting that project since she didn't want Legos in her car. I scribbled a roughly Vietnam shaped country on notebook paper, got a 30% and nearly failed that class."
We are told that, if you're not confident, you should just "fake it til you make it."
This is great--in theory. In practice, sometimes "faking it" can have extremely real and terrible consequences, which these people found out the hardest of hard ways.