Your teachers: S/D

Mr Durham (economics teacher, extremely funny, possibly the best at actually making me learn, took no shit, brother was Great Sorprendo)
Mr Houston (history teacher and self-appointed literary guru. Very very funny, and once picked an A-Level class entirely of blondes, but wasn't a perv)
Mr Sinclair (old school, understood his pupils, got the balance absolutely right)
Miss Bachelor (never taught me but bent over in a tennis skirt and I fell in love. Also didn't give me a detention once when I deserved it)

Destroy:

Miss Gresham (nasty, kid-hating old grumpy cow)
Mr Chambers (exploded at me in geography for no reason. A violent bully. Got in trouble for punching another boy, i think)
Mr Moore (typical jock cunt. Power-mad and unpopular. Got to dick the pretty female teachers if rumour was to be believed).

Mr Schoos - old hippy.

Destroy:

All the others

Destroy:
Mr. Bergeron, French teacher in middle school, obnoxious and snarky. Wrote a song about him in my first band called "My French Teacher is an Alien," which was beloved by students and teachers alike.
The calculus professor I had in college who was an old Southern man who spoke really slowly yet still couldn't teach worth shit. They must have curved the grades, or else I couldn't possibly have passed. Totally useless.
Pretty much every teacher I had once I moved to the US for high school and went to a shitty crime-ridden public school. I think most of them had given up. Not really their fault, but kind of sad.

Search: I can't remember his name! Blooming heck. My lecturer at university who did his first lecture on the ethics of Smack My Bitch Up by the Prodigy. Student Madchen loved him. Grown up Madchen can't remember his name. I am a disgrace.
Search: Mr Doyle, who taught us about World War 1 by reading war poetry very dramatically and making us jump when he shouted "Gas boys!" And he gave the best assemblies ever.

K3v1n McC4rthy - class teacher for 5 years, knew us all inside out, formative, encouraging, helped me through bad times, thought I was a good writer etc

Destroy:

K3v1n McC4rthy - didn't know us as well as he thought he did after we left school, bitter, projected his problems onto us, criticised our choices etc

Also search: Cristina - eurythmy teacher and mentor for 7 odd years; Nigel - A level philosophy tutor who was 'cool' ie. often forgot to plan lessons and constantly mainlined black coffee.

Also destroy: Barry something or other - woodwork teacher who smashed my work to pieces when it didn't meet his high standards; D14na W3stl4k3 who was nice but taught art and wouldn't accept that I was rubbish at and hated it; Mr Waites? who did the filming for school plays and the resulting video would always be close-ups of girls' breasts and legs; Maria (A level English) who didn't like people and liked literature even less; Mr Davis (head of year during GCSEs) - bug-eyed bigot fond of giving pep talks about 'the world of work'.

Destroy:
I don't even remember his name, creepy Econ teacher who gave all the girls the eye and later got busted for drug dealing.

Search:

Mrs. Downe, kindergarten: Patient, kind. Always gave me extra materials b/c I was already reading. Taught me to be tolerant of others. Wonderful. She came to my wedding.

Ms. Bush, English 10th grade: entertaining, treated me like an intellectual equal, sweet-used to find me in the hallways and slip my favorite candy bar in my pocket. Damn I wish I could track this woman down. Single-handedly she probably influenced me most to become an English teacher.

Mr. Matchette/English and Latin 9-12 - Along with the next teacher one odd, but wonderful, duck. Would play "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" on his console stereo during class. Lost it my senior year after he was attacked by some students.

Mr. Lemmon, History 10/11th - Along with above was my Whiz Quiz coach. When I told him I didn't believe Kennedy was shot by Oswald buried me with reading materials to convince me otherwise. Gave me a travel bug. He visited nearly every country on earth during school breaks and told us fantastic stories. Taught my parents when they went to my high school. Passed away two years ago.

Mr. Bellows, band director high school: was one of my best friends. Taught me so much. Broke my heart when he left my senior year to go teach in the suburbs.

Mrs. Morales, vice-principal HS: Along with the woman below, helped me when I ran away from my alcoholic mother's home. Paid me not to work at my part-time job while I was preparing for the Academic Decathleon.

Mrs. Payne, HS counselor: Saved my life, literally. Helped me secure full scholarships for college. Passed away when I was a junior in college.

Destroy: none.

Search:
Mr Shoos - great teacher, old hippy. My final report was on Woodstock, his comment was "I went, did drugs and had sex A-".

Mr Koz - Anatomy and Physiology teacher, called me V-Man.

Mr B - phys ed, loved me because I was good at Lacrosse.

Mrs Fl*nn - Home Ec, gave me a wonderful recommendation to Johnson and Wales Univ.

Karen B*** - Young college prof that taught english lit in the summer program I attended before college. We had a fling.

Mrs Murph - Substitute teacher who was senile as all hell, we used to ask her if she liked dinkleberries. "Don't think I don't know what your talking about!" Sure, mrs murph...
Destroy:
Joyce Labon*te - Guidance counselor who gave me a weeks detention because she caught me smoking in the courtyard and I followed it up with a "f-you juice!". Also didn't like that we called her Juice.

Mrs Kent - 95yrs old and taught lit in 7th grade. Crazy old fuck. Threw one kid into the closet and made his head bleed.

Mr C*leman - Complete drunk. Kept booze in his desk drawer and would get bombed and bark out orders. Beat up some kids and got booted. His class was easy as hell though.

Mrs/Mr Aron$on - did not know if this was a woman or man, smelled like B.O. and always wore polyester gunt/dick pants. Made me cry in 4th grade because she told me I was stupid in front of the whole class. I couldn't do a word problem and the shemale freaked out. F-you, hate her to this day.

Mr E - Old frail asshole guidance counselor who used to laugh at my requests to visit colleges "like you have a shot at getting in there". Used to egg his house on halloween. He must be 500 years old now and still works at the liquor store part time. I swear he is part sea turtle.

Martyn: My A-level English teacher. A brilliant, insightful, and encouraging guy, and "a published poet"!
Charles Barr: University film teacher, and a renowned writer/speaker on Hitchcock. Nice guy. He once said that Selznick chased women, gambled, and popped pills and was thus "a very Jewish figure". I didn't ask.
Andrew Higson: Another university film teacher, and brother of the Fast Show's Charlie! Wicked.

Destroy:Pretty much everyone else, especially Mr Greenhoff who advised my parents that I shouldn't even take A-levels (!), and insisted on making my life a misery.

Primary School:

Whoever taught me in year 5 in Evenlode School – can’t remember her name – but she liked my storytelling ability so much that she let me write whatever stories I wanted rather than the drab boring ones everyone else was forced to write. See also whoever taught me in year 6 at the same school, who told everyone they were going to write a novel, but I was the only one who actually stuck it out and did it in a year.

Secondary School:

Mrs Dunford – or Pat as she was known. English Yr 1 / 2, Latin Yr 3 – for being nice to me, recognising some ability and developing it, and for not letting on when I told her which girl I had a crush on in our Latin class.

Mrs Chater – English, Yr 3. Told us all to write a diary, most people stopped after three days, mine continued for – oh – 14 years.

Mrs Mulrooney – or Anne. Science Yr 1, Computer Studies Yr 4, 5, 6, Form Teacher Yr 5. Possibly my favourite teacher of all time, and couldn’t possibly describe why. She was just cool, for a mature lady, and I sort of had a crush on her. Once wore a smart suit jacket which inspired a class mate to say “Where’s your private plane, miss?”, which in turn inspired one of my greatest songs. Also inspired another great song two years later. The only teacher to cry when I left school.

Mr Davies / Miss Willmot – German yr 3 to 5. Mrs Willmot never taught me, but Mr Davies did, even if the rumours about him abounded. Eventually he divorced his wife and married Miss Willmot, or Theresa. She’s here simply for a memory of her dancing on the German Exchange in 1985.

Chris Jones – Computer Science, New College (second year of 6th form). A cool bloke, knew a lot about computers, also had a radio show on Radio Wales every Saturday morning, eventually started playing Durutti Column records I had recommended to him.

Miss Williams – PE, Form teacher yr 3 + 4. Everyone was envious of me and Howard being sat at the table directly in front of her because she was rather well endowed. A lovely woman.

Destroy.

Secondary School.

Mr Powell – Physics, yr 4. A pupil who had bullied me had spat a piece of paper in my ear. I decided I’d had enough, and turned around and punched him. Mr Powell duly threw us both out of the class. Everyone in the class thought it was very funny that the class goodie goodie was thrown out, and Mr Powell thought he’d done himself proud and probably boasted about it to the other teachers in the staff room that night. Only they told him that I wasn’t a trouble maker and he had to apologise very grovellingly in front of the whole class the next day.

Miss Hagyard – Maths, yr 2 to 5. Just because she was a hag. Used to make us all sit for ten minutes saying nothing before she’d let us out of her class. Once moved the class around so the troublemakers at the back moved to the front, so the good kids moved to the back and promptly became troublemakers. And drove a blue Hillman Imp.

Everyone else was just there. Oddly enough, looking up my school on Friends Reunited seems to have brought up similar responses to mine.

M s. K izzart. My favorite teacher of all time. Such a sweetheart and an angel. Knew her when I was a tiny tot starting school and when I was in eighth grade. Probably saved my life in eighth grade. Was one of maybe a handful of people from my early childhood who treated me like the young girl I was dying to be treated as.

M s. G roesch. Incredibly strict, hard-nosed, uncompromising, tough, and super-demanding when she was my senior-year AP English teacher, I thank God I had her as a teacher these days. She was fair to every single person and I can honestly say she never played favorites with anyone. If you think I come across as even slightly entertaining online, thank her for pushing me, Ms. "I Wish This Was Math Class Instead", to do better.

S r. S usan. My freshman year religion teacher. Encouraged all of us to expand our minds in our faith lives and to incorporate feminism in our worship. To this day, I still remember the alternate sign of the cross she taught us -- "The Creator, the Redeemer, and the Sanctifier". Still influences the way I worship. I've heard she's no longer a nun, btw. Hm.

M r. R obles. My second grade math teacher and probably the one teacher responsible for getting me as much into math as I am. Once again, strict and hard-nosed, but fair and actually kinda pleasant when you stepped outside the classroom. I don't know where on Earth he is at this point.

These are the teachers I can come up with at this point, though there were many others I also liked. I can't even begin to name the professors I've liked as well, because in all honesty I have never had a bad professor. I actually think I even like the teachers/professors who were generally thought of as unlikeable, because they were all effective in the end and I liked that.

Destroy? Just one:

Unnamed sister. A nun who taught me in high school, whom everyone really seemed to like, and I did feel like I could find her a fantastic teacher, but she played favorites and wasn't fair to everyone, so I looked at that suspiciously. I then realized she was trying to charm us all into thinking she was a great teacher when she was in reality only a great teacher to the people she wanted to be a great teacher to, not to everyone. I couldn't even stand to be in the same room with her now.

search:
my mum - taught me to read and count before i went to school thus setting me off on the path of nerd-dom
mr burnett - maths/calculus teacher through most of high school. he always believed in his students. the kind of teacher that inspires really cheesey movies. introduced me to carl sagan, bob dylan, and fear and loathing in las vegas. wanted me to be a brain surgeon hahahaha.
mr hinds - music teacher, 6th and 7th form. all round nice encouraging guy.
mrs pasley - exceptionally good science teacher. gave lucid explanations for everything.
mrs mcfelin - ich bin auslander und spreche nicht gut deutsch (nicht gut deutsch)!
mrs austin - knew i was bored at primary school and encouraged me in lots of extra-curricular activities such as drama and music.

Ms. H3lman (jeez can't remember if it's two L's or not!) - 11th grade US Hist. teacher, super encouraging to me re: my writing. I blossomed thanks to her.
Mr. N33l3y -- senior English, broke down how to write a proper essay, with h3lman made me a humanities guy instead of mathboy. Few people liked him even though he was hilarious (deadon parody of Nick Cage in City of Angels), b/c he was a social climber. Eventually became vice principal, then city councilguy.
Mr. McGu!rk - math teacher all 4 years in HS. Let us play hearts in class. He did divorce his wife and marry the 20-something bio teacher recently, though.
Prof. Sh@r0n M@rcu$ -- I had a crush on her -- short dark hair, dark eyes, but a very principled lesbian (i.e. plumed armpit hair)
Prof. J0hn B!$h0p -- hilarious, great lectures
Prof. J0shi -- nicest and most amiable prof. I've ever known, even though she declined to write a recommendation for me.

Destroy:
Ms. Gongtang -- Bio Honors. She had it in for me. During a lab, we had to use these potato corkers, and to bump out the bit of potato in mine, I stealthily borrowed a pencil from her podium. She caught me and gave me a lecture on trust. Another time, she was handing back tests, but gave me back the wrong one w/ a high score; when she realized it, she gave me another lecture on trust, IN FRONT OF THE CLASS. She could sing though. Babs Streisand's twin.
10th grade chem honors teacher, can't remember her name, she hated me too. I was telling my table mate Jason to shut up during one class, and she thought I was talking to her. She kicked me out.

Mr Ralfs, maths, fourth & fifth year. Looked a bit like Paul Daniels, positively evangelical about maths, recognised that different pupils needed to progress at different levels (wouldn't let me use a calculator when he thought I could manage without), let me beat him at badminton once.

Destroy: Mr Morrison. English, 1st year. Once wrote "good idea (mine)" on an essay of mine. Sent me to the headmaster's office for correcting his spelling once. My mum still refers to him as "that horrible insecure little man" which is about right, if not quite rude enough.

Mrs Longmore, French, first year. I was put up a year in primary school and therefore went to secondary school at ten (note to overseas readers, this is quite young). In my first French class we were getting the usual "Je m'appelle..." "Je suis .... ans" etc, and she told what the words for eleven and twelve were. When I asked what the word for ten was, she actually asked "what are you doing here if you're only ten". Way to make the freaky swot girl stand out even more...

Honorary mention: Mrs Hamilton, chemistry, lower sixth. You know the frustrated teacher in Chewing the Fat. That's her. Really. It is her. To a T. Hated her at the time, but I think in hindsight she was alright really.

Good teachers I've had include my fifth-grade teacher who had us all write novels--after getting over my dislike for quotation marks, I won the prize for mine and started telling people I wanted to be a writer when I grew up.

Bad teachers include my ninth(?) grade French teacher who favored the boys, would let them get away with anything and then when I or my friends made a slight noise (like, say, from twitching with boredom), hurl abuse at us. This finally got to me so much that when he shouted at me over nothing, "SARAH! C'est fini?!" I then stood up and shouted back "OUI! C'EST FINI!" and stormed out and spent the rest of the class period in the library. (N.B. I am normally mild-mannered and reserved.)

I wish I'd paid more attention to what made my good teachers great--I would've liked to be a great teacher also. Having said all the above, while teaching I rapidly came to have sympathy with most of my bad teachers. That french teacher probably thought we were all spoiled brats, which by and large we were.

Yeah, me too. I think this may have been one of the most important things to ever happen to me. Though it made me bored in school.

ich bin auslander und spreche nicht gut deutsch (nicht gut deutsch)!

Hey, we did that too! "Bitte langsam, bitte langsam..." etc. Our German teacher wasn't that great but we did enjoy asking her "How now, braun Frau?"

Destroy:

Mr Naylor: Geography, years 7 and 8. Ignorant, fat, smelly, bearded man-walrus. An abhorrent personality. Excruciatingly boring. A friend and I spent a whole year making jokes at his expense, while he laughed along with us and gave us both A's at the end of the year.

Mr McCole: English, year 11. Incredibly dense and pompous. A choice quote: "Sarcasm is the most biting, clever form of wit." He once took an extremely mediocre essay of mine and photocopied it for the rest of the class, describing it as "a perfect essay". He thought that I liked him somehow, until towards the end of the year when I had to make it painfully obvious to him how little I, and everyone else, thought of him. I'm sure he was only kept around because he'd been at the school for more than 50 years.

Mr (forgotten): Maths Methods, year 11. Used to single me out and give me shit all the time. (he'd be explainig something, and would ask "You got that Andrew?" "Yes." "Right, we can move on then.") I had absolutely no idea why. One day when he said something similar to the above I exploded and yelled "Can you stop doing that?! It's really offensive and discouraging. How would you like being taunted every single fucking day?" After that, he shut up. Prick.

Dr Noone: Religious Education, year 10. Incredibly stubborn and fixed in his ways. Once screamed "How dare you question this university study!!!" at a friend of mine when he cited a personal experience contrary to an trend illustrated by some statistical paper.

Search:

Mr Yim: Tai Chi master (years 10, 11, and 12) and Specialist Maths teacher (year 12). Had an excellent attitude and outlook on life. Was incredibly understanding and respectful, and treated us like peers. Had a gift for explaining complex things in very simple ways. Could draw a perfect circle on a whiteboard freehand.

Dr Scott: English Literature, year 12. Highly intelligent and knowledgable. Very enthusiastic about the course material. Had a good sense of humour (or, more accurately, he appreciated mine). Gave excellent feedback on essays, and actually made me really interested in the texts.

Mrs (forgotten): General Maths, year 11. Hilarious russian woman. Was completely covinced that I was some sort of genius - so much so that she exempted me from most of the coursework, and excluded me from the statistical mdoeration in the end-of-year exam. (she said it would skew the results too much, and she was right: I got 117%) I spent almost every class playing with my Gameboy.

Mr Newbury: History (year 9) and 'tutor' (years 9-12). A really genuine and highly intelligent man. Had a great sense of humour, but didn't take crap from anyone. Once, he wore a t-shirt with a print of that Elvis/Nixon handshake photo on the front, and laughed hysterically whenever anyone mentioned it. Would give highly inspirational speeches before House competitions and stuff.

There are more...

Mrs. Winck0mpleck: my Quiz League advisor and Academic Decathlon teacher, young (24ish then) and idealistic English teacher, which probably means she quit.

Mrs. Scott: Senior English teacher, gave me A's for being interested in literature and discussing things in class, when I should have been on the verge of failing for lack of actual work. Wrote me glowing recommendations to Pomona and Reed, too bad I never got around to applying anywhere.

Mrs. Wilson: Senior creative writing teacher and literary magazine advisor. Also young and idealistic. I saw her at a bar the spring after I graduated, proceeded to get ragingly drunk with my former high school teacher and some of her friends. Very fun.

Mr. Mann: Second and then fourth grade teacher, just kind of a cool guy. Had a beard.

Mrs. Cox: Third grade science teacher, I still see her every once in a while at the grocery store, still recognizes and remembers me 12 years later.

Destroy:
Mrs. Howard: Senior US government teacher, didn't like my attitude (I think I called one girl in class an idiot for arguing that Cuba was better off pre-Castro, and corrected the teacher a few times in class), led the local teacher's group that opposed the teacher's union.

Mrs. Parker: Junior US history teacher. Same basic reasons as above. None of my government or history teachers liked me (and vice versa) because I was really good at both, and spent most classes sleeping or goofing off, also had a tendency to correct and argue with the teachers.

Hahaha, that sounds fantastic.

i said "destroy:none" b/c I seriously never had any horrid teachers. Some were ineffective. There was a pinch-faced lady I had in 4th & 5th grade who sent me to the principal's office for wearing my Madonna "Virgin Tour" shirt. ("Do you know what 'virgin' means?") But nobody ever did the kind of shit I see described here.

I holler at kids. I get angry. But I never do physically cruel things to them and I never insult or belittle them. On the rare occassion where I've said something that I think was over the line, I apologize. I always try to give respect and hope it comes back to me.

I hope that if I stick in this profession I won't turn out like some of the assholes described here. :(

Mr. Harris, High School English. The most intelligent, thoughtful and articulate teacher I've ever had. I have no idea how to adequately describe him. We had classes in a circle(we were this very select class, so a small class too), with him in the circle as well, moderating discussion about whatever we were reading at the time. Best English class ever. He also wore really really nice ties.

Mr. B, High School Chem. I thought I was horrible at science--I had this ridiculous sci/math anxiety in HS, although they were really my best subjects on standardized tests. Mr. B was hilarious and engaging and fun though, and was one of my favorite teachers.

Russ Reising, College Lit. He was completely eccentric--he wore hawaiian shirts to school a lot of the time. He had a very very strong personality and people either loved him or hated him. I thought he was great. We read, we watched "Dumbo" and discussed some of the political symbolism given the time that it was made. We had to write a paper on our favorite music. He was enthusiastic and strange and incredibly endearing.

Dr. somebody, Calculus. She was terrifically understanding when I came in to see about extra help and suggestions. I wasn't doing as well as I wanted, and I would stress out and freeze up during tests and do horribly. She was very cool and helpful--the goal was for me to learn, and to do as well as I could. So she gave me an extra hour when taking tests. I would freak out for a while, and then calm down and ace the test. I ended up getting an A-.

Fitz, College Lit. He always had a way of expressing things that resonated with me. The same as my other fave teachers, he was enthusiastic and funny and engaging. I freaked out during the final exam and was hiding behind my hair and crying and stuff because I just couldn't remember all this stuff that I should have known well. When I went to hand the paper in, I felt like a teary, snotty mess and just wanted to slink out and go dry-heave in the bathroom. But he stood at the front of the room and blocked my way so he could shake my hand and tell me how much he enjoyed having me in class. That gesture meant a lot to me for some reason.

A friend of mine is a new college prof. He has a student who seems like a tremendous bullshit artist, but once in a while will get some brilliant problem on the exam. Upon consideration of the student's performance, he decided that the student must have some sort of learning disability, some neurological problem or something. The guy comes into office hours and talks about the concepts very well, but can't seem to express them on paper very well. He's gotten some really high-level problems that most students were getting wrong. So my prof friend is reading up on dyslexia (in addition to preparing high level physics courses), and trying to figure out what to do. What's most admirable is that he finds this student's personality to be really annoying, but nonetheless is going out of his way to try to find a way for this smart, motivated kid to succeed. I really admire that.

Destory: Mrs. Everett, She made me clean all the desks after writing on one, was totally unfair with grading and always gave me bad grades because she didn't like me. She didn't like me because even though she continued to check the algebra HW everyday, I never did it, but still aced the tests.

not sure what she's doing now, hopefully she's dead. how you doing down there, miss noonan? *stomps foot gleefully on ground*

search:
-third grade teacher - loved her and she cemented my desire to be a writer (which dwindled slowly after elementary school but still)
-eighth/twelfth grade latin & greek teacher: good teacher, fair, fun, still keep in touch (i've only been gone for a few months but that's more than with any other teacher)
-eleventh/twelfth grade english teacher: thought he didn't teach me a thing but got to college and was immediately grateful.

destroy:
-eighth grade science teacher who was like a wicked witch or something, she'd be disgustingly sweet and then she'd turn into this raving monster with a hoarse scream, red face, and bugged out eyes. "YOU TILTED THE TEST TUBE OF WATER! YOU COULD HAVE SPILLED! YOU'LL BE A FAILURE IN LIFE!"
-high school calculus teacher, obviously had no interest in calculus and very little knowledge of how it worked, and was petty and sadistic in addition (she admitted to the second one)

Search:

Pete Peterson, teacher of World Lit, Art Of The Cinema, school plays and musicals director and also in charge of our school's radio and (public access) television stations. Was able to communicate auteur theory to 14-year-olds and called the posse of new waver girls I was a part of '15 going on 35' because we were so wry and sarcastic. Claim to fame: taught Joel and Ethan Coen in cinema class (I interviewed Pete for the Guardian about this when Fargo came out). Also was happy to write us passes to go pick up Vietnamese take-aways.

David Litsey, English teacher: read chapters of manuscripts over his lunch break and told me my stories were very John Updike. Also allowed us to monopolise his stereo at lunch when the Frankie Goes To Hollywood LP came out but freaked out about the COME!!! bit in 'Relax'. also happy to write passes to go pick up Vietnamese take-aways ('just get me some eggrolls!')

Mrs. Gillespie, kindergarten: It's not every day that a kid with a cancer wig and advanced reading skills shows up and pisses off the class for being different and getting excused from class to go to chemo. Since I was that kid, I found her efforts to keep me part of things pretty refreshing. My mom still runs into her at the shops occasionally (she was a young teacher when I had her).

Joel Anderson: not a teacher but the counselor for the Gifted/Talented kids. He rocked because he arranged for Owen Franken (brother of Al, both Frankens went to my school too) to bring speakers to us who were EXTREMELY left-wing (literazacion people from Nicaragua, Greens from Germany...in 1984). Not to mention the way he lobbied for all of us to get into good colleges. The icing on the cake was how gay he looked (handlebar moustache, pastel argyle sweaters) but how srtaight he was.

Destroy:

Mrs Mooney: mean-as-fuck English teacher who HAD to be put in her place. Fortunately I had help from one D. Litsey who 'accidentally' informed me she was on happy pills (I'm pretty sure all the faculty hated her too) and pretty much told me to do what I would with that info. I maintained a you: staying here/me: going places attitude in my dealings with her, helped in no uncertain way by being assigned The Great Gatsby, where my dad's family get a namecheck. Although I escaped with an A, it was hard going. She also had heard I'd been offered a book deal and was a mite annoyed about that (yes, I did rub it in).

Miss Hooley: heiress to Cub Foods fortune masquerading as my 3rd and 5th grade teacher. BITCH. Made me feel like I was so stupid I'd have to repeat the year, and seemed to have a crush on the same boy I did even though she was nasty girdle-wearing closet dyke.

Ms Callahan: coach of state champions in girls' synchronised swimming, and so ancient she had been my mother's gym teacher. My mom warned me not to fuck with her, and my mom fears NOBODY. Callahan ran the swimming unit and since it was first or second hour, fake periods abounded. when she said 'girls, it stops when you go in the water' I asked 'how would YOU know?'

This is a good thing? ;-)

There are some kids I do dislike b/c they are budding assholes. But that dislike never colors my academic assessment of them and ends when they walk out of my room. I would never feel envious of them or wish them failure. How ridiculous.

who was like a wicked witch or something, she'd be disgustingly sweet and then she'd turn into this raving monster with a hoarse scream, red face, and bugged out eyes

haha, I could see some kid of mine writing this years from now. I flip out a lot less this year. Some days I have no patience and lose my temper easily. But on the flipside I really think I give my students more respect than a lot of other adults. And I am genuinely sweet to them. I call them all "sweetie", "honey", "darlin'" and love giving hugs and pats/squeezes. (get yr mind out of the gutter please)

And the little quips and smart-ass jokes that kids think are so clever and imagine send the teacher home to cry into their cup-of-soup. . .nah. Last year I'd hear things like "do you have a black pit of hate deep in your heart?" Or other teachers would say they overheard kids call me "a witch who worships the devil." Yeah, whatever kid, come see me in ten years and I'll buy you a beer.

This year the worst I get is an occasional "this class is boring" or "ooooh, I can't stand you!" My response "aw, you're breaking my heart."

Today after blowing up and hollering at my rowdiest class this one hotheaded (and notoriously fast) girl said, with no hint of smart-assness in her voice, "We love you too, Ms. ******". I had to laugh out loud at this. I realize that no matter how frustrating or exhausting or impossible this job seems sometimes that I belong there. I love my kids even when they're making me grind my teeth and seethe with frustration.

*laughs* If not, then I would so be able to contribute here. My grade school alma mater had a principal who was quite notorious for her yard stick and what she'd do with it to the unfortunates who were sent to her room for disciplinary measures. I suppose these days you'd call what she was rumored to do "child abuse", but these were different times and, besides, everyone there was too scared of her to even mention this to anybody outside the school.

Sam, you sound like you'd have been my M s. K izzart. You probably save a lot of children's lives with what you do, and I wish more teachers out there were like you. Thank you, on behalf of those students of yours who will be bound to remember you several years from now as being that special and magical teacher they look at with great fondness.

I'm watching 'Dangerous Minds' for the first time right now. I'm hating it b/c A. it's got a cheesy hollywood sheen to it that's making me cringe and B. So many exchanges are ringing so true to me.

train of thoughts

sistrah becky and i met our scariest primary school teacher mrs w4lker at a funeral abt a year ago - she is 80-something now and she is TINY!! she seemed pleased to see us which wz nice

my headmaster from my second school came to visit my mum in hospital when she wz in for breast cancer - but they always got on well cz she teased him a lot (once she wz meant to be seeing him - abt me i guess - and he wz late, and when he came into his office she wz sitting in his chair leafing though his papers): *he*s tiny too!!

(tentative conclusion: when young i was smaller)

we had a geography teacher who ended up later being kicked out for fiddling with boys: we all knew years before and no one told on him (in fact my friend mark, at age 12, passed judgment thus: "he's probably lonely, so fair enough") (date = 1972)

sometimes when i'm in town when i'm visiting my mum and dad i see some of my old teachers from my third school, in M&S or wherever, the still-a-bachelor-at-75 types: i've never gone up and said "HAha" or "yo", and they never spot me

it seems like a long time ago - i find it hard dredging up strong feelings in any direction but i wz very dreamy and disconnected at school after the age of abt eight (ie i remember having my leg slapped age 5 by mrs boyce for talking to dicky dodd, after she said stopped talking, better than ANYTHING teacher-related aged 11-17)

well possibly, they're also probably shrinking. ;)

Well he knew I was awful at it probably.

OH GOD. The sheet's out in my car, so I'm going to paraphrase:
Question: Describe your c4ve. Are you happy in it?
Me: Man, in my cave, I've got everything I want, and I mean EVERYTHING. Food? K4-Check! Drink? Boom-bam-k4-check! Space? You know it, baby! But am I satisfied? Naw, I need more stories, more knowledge, the cream o' the g0ds.
AP Lit teacher: Nice! I L0VE the voice in this an$wer! (I'm big on v0ice)

I had a very warm, wonderful dream last night wherein I ran into my fifth grade teacher, my favorite one, and he hugged me and told me how proud he was of how I'm doing in life.