“Glad You Lost Your Job For That”: 35 People Share The Biggest Grudges They Held Against Their Teachers
Teachers hold a lot of influence in the lives of their students. They’re authority figures who mold younger generations in their image. And though the world is chock full of wonderful educators who want to make the world and their classroom a better place and have a good sense of humor, you’d be naive to think that everyone’s an everyday superhero. There are plenty of villains and bad apples mixed into the bunch.
Case in point, redditors from all over the net shared some of their worst experiences dealing with teachers and educators. They shared why they still hold a grudge against them to this very day in a thread on r/AskReddit.
Read on for their stories, dear Pandas. But beware, they’re so unfair, they’re bound to infuriate you. What’s the worst thing a teacher has ever done to you? Are you still bitter about what happened? If you’re feeling up to it, share what happened to you in the comments.
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Had AP Calculus teacher in HS intentionally try to fail me because I was good at math. When his lies were uncovered, the reason he gave (in the principal’s office) was *women don’t belong in the sciences.*. This was in front of me, my parents, my counselor, the VP, and principal.
My counselor was so aghast at what happened, he spoke up and said if my parents were willing to transport me, he would sign me up himself at the local community college for the same class. Then I would get college credit in just a semester without having to take the AP test. I did it.
I then went on to get my BS in Mathematics.
F**K YOU CANTRELL
YEAH! FUCKETH THOU CANTRELL! (using some old English language, as I was given the amazing idea by a very smart bored panda above me)
My English teacher... I'm dyslexic, which he said was not a real thing and i was lazy and stupid. He spent three years destroying any confidence in myself, ridiculing me on an almost daily basis and encouraging the other kids to bully me.
Twenty year later, I left my first published book on his grave..and took a p**s.
My English teacher gave me a 99 on a paper. I flipped through, curious where my error was.
She had marked "egomaniacal" for word choice with the note "not a word".
I asked about it, she insisted it was not a word, I insisted it was, and then I got detention for being insubordinate.
"How do you know 'insubordinate' but not 'egomaniacal'?" I asked.
Then I got more detention.
The teacher must have been egomaniacal, convinced in his/her infallibility.
It’s important to fight for what’s right and to stand up against injustice. However, the reality is that it’s often difficult to put that into practice. You’re standing up to (usually) trusted and well-respected authority figures who are throwing their weight around.
Though some educators make genuine mistakes (hey, nobody’s perfect!), others enjoy flexing their power and putting others down. Usually, it’s a sign that they’re insecure about something in their lives, so they try to make up for it by trying to control other people.
6th grade, end of November in SE Minnesota. Home ec teacher gave me detention for something I did (or more likely just got accused of, that happened a lot) and didn't let me leave for home until after 7:30. It's snowing, cold af outside and this c**t refuses to let me call my mom so I had to walk home. 3 1/2 miles in the snow and the cold.
F**k you Ms. Hanson. Glad you lost your job for that s**t.
Oh ya,
I had an English teacher in 9th grade. Our task was to come up with a scary story. The whole school had to do it. It was a contest and whoever was voted the best scary story was going to have it published and they were going to get an award.
The only requirements of the scary story was that it be scary and tell a story.
So I didn’t do the project until the morning of. But in that morning, I had an epiphany and wrote probably the coolest poem I had ever written.
Well Everyone had this long winded 6 page paper and they were reading it. It was my turn and I went up and read my 1 sheet poem and everyone loved it. Teachers I had never even talked to were stopping me and complimenting me on the story. Everyone said my poem was the most creative and sure to win.
Well flash forward a week and I was pulled into the teachers office. She told me that she knew that I cheated and plagerizef this poem but she couldn’t prove it so I was disqualified. I tried getting my home room teacher to back me up that he watched me do it and actually helped a little bit. But he wouldn’t back me up, saying I was on my own.
Frankly that entire school had a grudge against me for being brown. And I was ok with it. But that one incident stung especially.
Ha. I was in 4th grade and was enduring a lot of abuse at home. I wasn’t the most hygienic so my hair was frizzy, and I didn’t wear underwear because if my parts weren’t hanging out, I just didn’t see a need. It was tight and uncomfortable. My teacher and her assistant were behind me one day during a test and started talking bad about me and giggling, making sure they were the perfect distance away for me to very audibly hear them. Saying I never brushed my hair or showered, and I was dirty. As someone already being psychologically abused by my parents at the time, it definitely took a major toll on me. As an adult, I cannot imagine how anyone could act like that with a child. I cannot imagine the depths of sadness and insecurity for an adult in her 40’s could belittle a child who had little control over what was going on with her life. It’s disgusting.
I had a student who was not clean, didn't take care of his clothes or hair. I believe he was 3rd or 4th grade. I head the kids making fun of him. He was absent the next day so I sat them all down and talked to them about it. At that age their parents are responsible for if they brush their teeth, get hair cuts, have clean clothes, bath, etc. It is not the child's fault. I let them know not everyone had good parents. Mark my words. They had a complete change in attitude. One student who lived near him went over after school to ask him to play. He said he had no bed or furniture. Just a blanket on the ground. He had no toys at all. They got it. I let the classroom teacher know and the school counselor. I'm sure it was reported. I thought Gad! People treat their pet dog better.
What makes us angry depends a lot on who we are as individuals. However, broadly speaking, anger is a reaction to some form of injustice. If you feel slighted, insulted, or treated unfairly, you’re likely to hold a grudge. At least, for a little while.
Unfortunately, some people hold on to that anger for years and even decades. It’s like a thorn in their minds. And whenever they think about their schooldays, they remember that particular teacher that made their lives hell.
My idiot seventh grade science teacher, and I remember this because it was so ridiculous.
We had to watch a video on wildlife or something and then write a short paper afterward about what we watched. I was in advanced reading classes when I was younger and read my thesaurus and encyclopedias for funsies, so I had a slightly better grasp of English than my classmates. I'm not trying to brag, but this is relevant information.
This asshat teacher knocked twenty points off my paper because I "did not use grade-appropriate language." I got a lower mark because I was using words she felt were beyond my grade level. I'm still salty about it 25+ years later.
Teachers hate it when you use words they have to look up in the dictionary.
I was in a digital illustration class and we had a project to illustrate a monster. I decided to draw the parasites from the movie cloverfield. We posted all of our pictures up in class and he went 1 by 1 giving detailed critiques. When he got to mine he just looked at it and said "that's a creature not a monster" and moved on to the next one. I got a C on that assignment.
This was the same teacher that accidentally pulled out the plug on the back of my computer after 5 hours of work on my final and refused to give me any extra time to complete it.
F**k you Gordon
Yeah Gordon, fucketh thou! (Just avoiding BP censorship through old English).
We were about 6 years old and the teacher told us to make Father’s Day cards. I went up to the teacher to tell her my dad was dead. She snapped at me “do it anyway.” So I was made to sit in class making fathers day cards to my dead father.
Now, we’re not saying everyone should blindly forgive and forget, but you should think about what’s best for you in the long term. If that horrid teacher is living in your brain, rent-free, constantly making you flare up with rage, something’s gotta change.
Think about what would make your life more peaceful. Perhaps you need an honest discussion with your teacher, face to face. Or, barring that, you might need to let go and move on. They win if you’re constantly mad.
Wouldn't let me go to the bathroom on my period. I was 14 and really heavy and still navigating having a period in the first place. Told her that I was on and I had leaked she didnt care. Cried to her, didn't matter. Other classmates told her to let me go and she wouldn't. Got home and I was an absolute mess, my mum went bonkers.
Frustratingly now I'm an adult I'd never let that happen, I'd just go to the toilet. But at 14 I was so scared of getting in trouble at school I just stayed put.
My god, other classmates told her to let you go and she still wouldn't? Cruel.
This one English lit teacher made it clear she didn’t like me. I think it was because I’m not white. She gave me Cs and Ds on all my work. In years past I had gotten As and been invited on special field trips for English classes. I won poetry and fiction awards. I tutored other kids. I got special assignments because I was always 2-3 years ahead reading level wise. And it was the only academic I was good at. My GPA was hovering below 3.0, English and art were the only subjects preventing me from being even lower. Science and math were Cs and Ds I deserved. I accepted that. But this?
To do a test of my theory my friend who is white and I handed in the same exact assignment, a book report or something. Virtually the same wording, same thesis, everything. We switched our names on the reports. I got a C and he got an A. She was just grading me lower because she didn’t like me.
Turmoil at home and a general teenage apathy prevented me from trying to do anything about this. I just kept my head down and took my Cs. I stopped trying, I’d hand in stuff cut and pasted from Encarta and I’d get a C. I’d include hip hop and punk lyrics and I’d get a C. I even did 5 pages of the same paragraph. C. She wasn’t even reading what I did.
She prevented me from getting into AP English my senior year, as you needed an A- in the prerequisite class. I was furious. It was my only hope for any AP class.
But it turned out my senior year English teacher was awesome though, she was a genuine hipster and let me design my own projects since I had read most of the books on the curriculum already. She would burn me cool CDs. She got me into My Bloody Valentine and The Vaselines and The Pastels and the like. She gave me her copies of Naked Lunch and Even Cowgirls Get The Blues and let me just read them and discuss them with her.
But. Still f*****g hate the s**t junior English teacher though. She was morbidly obese and ugly as absolute f**k all, she probably died a gnarly death years ago. F**k you Mrs. S. You were a steaming pile of rancid dog s**t and everyone hated you.
I expect you are right and she was racist. I loathe teachers who put personal feelings before professional judgement, they are the worst and don't deserve the authority they have.
A teacher in university accused me of plagiarism and said she spent the whole night trying to find out what I plagiarized but because she couldn’t prove it she wasn’t gonna report it to the school. I wrote it myself.
How could she accuse you of plagiarism if she couldn’t find any proof? It is a pretty straightforward matter.
Living in constant anger is extremely harmful to your body and mind. We’ve covered on Bored Panda before how this can lead to cardiovascular problems, metabolic diseases, and even digestive issues.
Righteous anger can lead to change. However, the world often isn’t that straightforward. Usually, you’re forced to compromise with the other side and find more diplomatic solutions to deep-rooted issues. Shouting and talking about unfairness will only get you so far. However, there are other tools in your arsenal if you want to make an actual difference. And holding grudges for their own sake really isn’t healthy.
Had a super s****y drama teacher in 8th grade. He was a recovering alcoholic/born again Christian and he would lecture us about it every day. He also targeted me to bully, and would ask me things in front of the whole class like, when was the last time I washed my hair, etc. I was 13. My hair was greasy regardless. He also gave other students extra points for imitating me in a negative way. Then on the last day of class, he pompously said that he thought the class was 'a little hard on me', as if he hadn't been encouraging them every step of the way.
Ran into him at the grocery store with his kids about fifteen years later. He said hello, and I just kind of grunted at him. His daughter said 'why didn't she say hi, daddy?' and he answered 'I don't think she likes me very much'. Yeah, you got that right, a*****e.
My grade one teacher told me I was "fired" because I didn't do my homework. She also took my birthday toy that I brought to class after Christmas break and said "Nice, now I have a toy for my grandson". F**k you Ms. Chrichelo, I hope you're burning in hell.
U'm, that is stealing and should have been punished by the severing of the felon's hand and the dipping of the stump into liquid tar.
I think I posted this once before on a similar question... but here you go. Clearly I still hold a grudge:
I had a teacher for Kindergarten (in 1980) that I absolutely loved! I certainly can't remember all the details on why I thought she was so great... I just very much remember that even going into the next couple years, I always compared my teachers to her and she always stayed my favorite.
Also... I LOVED space... from that kindergarten year onward, I made no secret that I wanted to be an astronaut. When we studied the planets I was enraptured... when we covered anything having to do with space, stars, galaxies... I was in my happy place. We had coloring sheets for the surface of each planet, and I remember coloring them, then asking for more copies, and coloring them again. I remember when the first Space Shuttle took off, and from that day on, that's what I drew... all the time... non-stop... the Space Shuttle. For school work... for fun... I was gong to ride in that thing some day... so I drew the thing I loved!
In 4th grade, 2 of the most amazing things happened... my absolute favorite teacher, moved up from kindergarten and I got her again for 4th grade, and [NASA announced the Young Astronauts Program](https://www.reaganlibrary.gov/archives/speech/remarks-white-house-ceremony-launching-young-astronaut-program)! Not only that, but MY teacher was going to be starting the first ever Young Astronauts Program at our school! The day she handed out the applications, I was in heaven. It was a scene straight out of a Christmas Story, where I sat writing out my "theme" on why I wanted to join the Young Astronauts. I wrote and I wrote, and I remember going over onto the back of the page because I had more to say than would fit. How could they give us such few lines to write on?! This was about space and being an astronaut!!!
The following week came and the day finally arrived when they were announcing who made it. I'll be honest, it never once even crossed my mind that I wouldn't get accepted. But, MY teacher... the one who was my favorite... the one who knew me for 5 years, knew my love of space, praised my drawings of the space shuttle, encouraged me in science and math... that... person... accepted just about every single other kid in that school that applied, except for me.
People use the word devastated a lot to describe how they feel after something bad happens... but I cannot imagine there was a better word to describe my 10yr old self on that day. Watching my best friend... my first crush... and the kid I hated most in class... all make it into the group I wanted to be a part of more than anything else. And the part that made her the a*s in my story, was that she absolutely refused to say why. I asked... I begged... to know what I did wrong. I know I asked her why I wasn't good enough? And I never got an answer... no reassurance of any kind that I can remember. I don't think I ever drew another pic of the Shuttle after that. Actually, I did draw one more. 2 years after this, The Challenger exploded. I remember drawing one more shuttle for them...
This made me so sad! There's a special place in hell for people like this.
I had a 4th grade teacher tell me "I would have more friends if I wasn't so weird"
I have carried that phrase my entire life and it still affects the way I act around people to this day.
My high school Lit teacher was OBSESSED with Planet of the Apes. Like if you had a class with him, guaranteed, you'd watch it at least once during the year, and he would frequently compare the books he assigned in class to the film. He was also VERY against students using state-of-being verbs (is, are, was, and were) to the point where you couldn't use any of them in any of the assignments you did for him and if you did you would lose points for each instance of them. Many students struggled with this restriction, myself included because he didn't give us any real tips or direction on how to write effectively without them leading to some literary gymnastics to avoid using them instead of actual better writing. He also just generally didn't seem to like me.
So when I wanted to take AP Literature my senior year of high school, it required a minimum of 90 in all your English classes to get in. I'd gotten 99 or 100 in all of my classes the previous three years EXCEPT for his class, in which I'd gotten an 89. As a result, I was required to take an online AP Lit Prep class over the summer, and as long as I got an 85 in that class I could take AP Lit. Of course, he taught both AP Lit and the Prep class, so I was worried about whether whatever issue he had with me would manifest, but I worked hard on the essays for the class.
Somehow, in a nearly statistically impossible outcome, he gave me an 83 on 5 essays in a row, meaning I didn't qualify for AP Lit because the minimum grade to get in was an 85. Even more insulting, I tried to appeal to his love of cult films in one of my essays by comparing the auditory hallucinations of the main character in one of the books we were reading, Camus' The Fall, to a scene in one of my favorite films, Carrie. He wrote in the notes how I should be ashamed that I compared "the literary genius of Albert Camus to a B-movie based on an airport novel." If that wasn't bad enough, two sentences later in his notes on my paper he drew a comparison to Planet of the Apes.
Luckily my mom pointed out how absurd it was and how it was a pretty transparent attempt to keep me out of the class so I got to take it anyway.
F**k you and your guacamole, Mr. G.
Petty lordship. And I thought people who had control issues became cops -- nope, some became teachers.
Didn't happen directly to me, but to a classmate in high school, not the most popular kid, but he was super intelligent and had a great capacity for memorizing facts, details and the like.
During a class test, this classmate included a lengthy quote as part of one answer. Some of us included bits of it, but no-one else but him could recall the whole spiel...
Teacher didn't just award him no points, but docked him points for cheating, cos no-one could possibly remember that whole quote, he must have had it written down somewhere on him. There were protestations all round. Poor lad threw his arms up - what's the point in putting in the effort to learn and retain info.
Was only an inconsequential class test, not a graded exam, but I still remember the injustice of it many years later.
It frustrates me now to read this stuff -- I want to punch this teacher on the nose!
During the 8th grade. I had this english teacher who was around the age of 30 and was one of “those” teachers characterized as cool by my classmates and other members of the faculty alike. He told me to “shut up” for correcting him on something he misinformed my class about infront of everybody. Laughed at one of my then friends intrests and also embarrassed them infront of the class. Made fun of how I walked one time out of nowhere and said it was fine because we were “friends” and that all of this behaviour was appropriate because he was our teacher. A literal 33 year old man bullying a then 13 girl, despicable.
In 6th grade I had a science teacher who didn't like me and would give me detention almost daily. I don't know why, I was a good student, did my homework, was on the honor roll, rarely got into any kind of trouble. But she would find a reason to give me detention, this was over 20 years ago at this point, but the two reasons I remember most vividly were:
Accusing me of having a girl do my homework for me (I have good penmanship for a guy and she knew this from having seen my homework and tests for months at this point.)
Calling me out in front of the entire class for talking, when we were doing a group project.
After weeks of my dad getting pissed about having to make 2 trips up to the school for my brother and then myself he demanded to know why I was getting in so much trouble. I couldn't give him an answer because I didn't know why she had such an issue with me, my dad called the school. As it turned out, apparently she couldn't give much of an explanation as to why I was receiving detention either. My dad proceeded to cuss her out (her words) and I never received detention from her again.
I think she just liked having some sort of control over me and having me sit in her empty classroom as she would leave the room and just check on me every 10 minutes or so was just for kicks.
I get terrible migraines with auras, and I have since elementary school. Anyway, one day in 7th grade science class I start to get a migraine and ask to go the nurse’s office so I can get my medication. The teacher declines since the nurse wasn’t at school at the time (I lived in a rural-ish area so the 4 schools all split one nurse.) and there’s a rule that students can’t take medication without being supervised by the nurse. So this sucks, but technically it wasn’t her rule. Then I have to take a test. The test is long, and by the end, I’m nauseous, my head feels like it’s been coated in fire ants and my vision looks like the psychedelia scene in Phineas and Ferb. I ask to go the office, so I can call home. She declines, and says that I’m just “trying to disrupt test time” and sends me back to my desk. I sit there with my head down for a while, before I finally get really nauseous and throw-up next my desk. This is apparently enough to send me to the office. I ask if someone can accompany to the office since there’s a double flight of stairs and I was dizzy. As you may have guessed, the answer was “No”. I stumble down the stairs, somehow avoiding breaking my skull, and go to the office to use the phone. As I sit down in the office to wait for my parents, the front desk attendant asks if I’ve seen the nurse. I tell her that the nurse isn’t in the building. The desk lady says “Well, she only left a few minutes ago. Really sucks that you couldn’t catch her”. It turns the nurse was in the building when I had asked previously. That would have been enough for a grudge already, however when I came in the next morning, I found out I bombed the test.I look through the answers and don’t see anything wrong, so I go to the teacher to find out what I missed. Apparently my work was “sloppy” and “hard to read”. I point out that I could barely see, which only served to get her to mark it up to a C- instead of an F. That class, despite my best efforts, gave me the first B I ever had. All because of that test. I had terrible anxiety at the time so I never even brought it up to my parents. The teacher was an older lady, so she’s probably dead now, but I still mentally go through all the extremely choice words I could have said to her.
I don't understand why more parents don't advocate for their kids. Do kids not inform them what's going on?
My Spanish teacher gave me my only C in high school. The worst part was he spent most of the year flirting with the girls in the class instead of teaching us. A few girls got A's and the rest of us were graded on how well we played along.
I had a teacher in grade 3 who basically made fun of my writing. I wrote a short story from the first person perspective. She read it and basically ridiculed me out loud for writing in the first person perspective. Just asking why I would do that and for some reason making me feel really bad dumb for writing it that way.
I was a really shy kid and blushed *really badly* (36M still do) I already didn't like expressing myself or putting myself out there so writing my thoughts out was difficult enough. It really turned me off of writing and made me really self conscious about expressing myself.
And the image is an adult woman cackling. I guess that's the evil teacher?
Oh boy my time to shine! Where do I start?
She was a Spanish teacher in high school. I was in her advanced class.
- she forced the class to run laps around the building because it was a Monday morning and we weren’t responding quick enough for her. I was very overweight at the time and it was humiliating.
- she liked to play a game she invented called “conjugation bootcamp” in which you’d have 3 seconds to conjugate a verb she gave you or else you’d have to do 10 pushups, sit-ups, or squats, increasing by 10 every time you were wrong. Again, overweight and embarrassing.
- she was incredibly short but had a massive ego, and looked down on people when they were sitting in their desks. She had an overall demeaning way of speaking to you. Hilariously enough, she used to wear very tall high heels and I was still taller than her when I stood up. I could tell she was annoyed that she had to look up to me.
- she basically called me a loser with no friends when I said I was interested in a class trip to the Dominican Republic, and that I didn’t get along with the other students going. She also questioned my speaking ability, and said “it’s really hot out all the time and we do a lot of walking on this trip” essentially calling me a bad student, anti social, and fat.
- forced everyone to give a long presentation in Spanish alone, which was horrible for me and my friend who has severe social anxiety. She literally vomited the morning of the presentation but was still forced to do it.
- she loved picking on the shy students and forcing them to speak in front of the class.
- my best friend’s therapist knew who the teacher was before she even said her name. Several other students in the past had brought her up.
- probably the most heinous, she made us watch Bee Movie in Spanish.
She made me hate her class and learning Spanish so much I didn’t take it senior year.
F**k you, Mrs. Winslow.
I wrote about this recently in another thread, but I'll repeat the high points.
1. 11th grade, Calculus III.
2. Handed in homework, teacher noticed one answer without work.
3. Teacher questioned me, basically accusing me of looking the answer up in the back of the book to save time.
4. "No, Mr Q. I did that one in my head."
5. Teacher: "Class, we have a genius on our hands! Mr. S can do calculus in his head!", trying to humiliate me.
6. Teacher writes a similar problem on the chalkboard, challenges me to answer it without writing anything down.
7. I give the answer after working it out in my mind.
8. Teacher works the problem out on the board and arrives at an answer which is different from the one I had stated. He turns smugly toward me.
9. "Mr Q, that answer is wrong."
10. Teacher: "Ah, so now Mr S knows better than his calculus professor, who has a Master's degree in mathematics! Amazing!"
11. Teacher hands chalk to me.
12. I go to the board, work the problem step-by-step, reaching the point where he'd made a simple, albeit critical, operational error.
13. Others in the class who "get" calculus gasp audibly.
14. I finish the problem, arriving at the correct answer, the same one that I had given after working it out in my head and answering him.
15. Teacher: "Take your SEAT, Mr S!"
16. Teacher proceeds to bully me in front of the class for weeks afterward.
17. I write a formal complaint to the Principal, the Math Department, and the County Superintendent of Schools.
18. Teacher is given an official reprimand in his record.
19. Teacher never apologizes nor acknowledges his error ever again.
Believe it or not, the above is shorter than the post I wrote a while back. Quotes are paraphrased, obviously... it was 33 years ago.
I'm glad you had the confidence to make a formal complaint. If it was me at that age, I probably would have just kept it to myself. That's how badly I was brainwashed into believing that you never corrected adults, ever.
My 5th grade teacher had previously taught my older sister and just transferred the grudge over to me. My sister wasn't even that bad, she just didn't turn in all her homework assignments (she had just immigrated over to the US and was having trouble acclimating).
Anywho, I needed a recommendation letter to go to an advanced middle school and she went out of her way to write a letter saying I wasn't smart enough to go. Luckily the guidance counselor saw it and got all my previous teachers to write recommendations as well. She was so petty, she even confiscated my books because I would quietly read after finishing my work. After that I thought, "hey I'll help my classmates out instead," but then she gave me detention for being disruptive.
To this day even my mom has no idea why she hated me so much. I was a problem child in the sense that I was kinda bored in school so I'd do my homework during class but I was never disruptive. Ms. Murray you suck but you taught me that not every adult deserves respect just because they're older.
That was one lesson she didn't intend to teach you, but stuck with you your entire life.
Definitely not a grudge, but almost 30 years later, I still get a little angry when I think about how my first grade treated me vs. the rest of the students. I was public enemy #1 in her class no matter what I did. Randomly being punished by not joining the kids for recess for yawning. Getting called stupid for getting an answer wrong, while other students who answered wrong got a simple "nope incorrect." Having a test taken away from me and given a 0 on it because my pencil broke. The list could go on.
The fact that you're not holding a grudge speaks volumes about your character, because that punk teacher certainly deserves your reprobation and disapproval.
Had a teacher when I was 9 who was low-key verbally abusive in front of the whole class now that I look back. I used to be a chubby kid, and one time I didn't do my homework and something flipped in her. She yelled at me like a banshee, and started aggressively flipping the pages in my book pointing at how I didn't do the homework, where some of the pages tore. She then proceeded to scream and tell me "you're so fat busy stuffing your face with sandwiches which is why you couldn't do your homework, YOU'RE SO FAT!". Then had me stand at the back of the class with my hands in the air as punishment for the duration of the 45 min class lol. I told my parents about it and when they confronted her the next day she very calmly and sweetly told them "I don't recollect such an incident happening, I'm sorry"
F**k that b***h lol
I wonder where the hell she got a teaching license from. Probably from the same place she got the audacity.
I've shared this before, but back in grade school I had two really close friends named Juan and Nick. [Here is a picture](https://i.imgur.com/Kv9IWWf.jpg) I love of us at the circus with me in the front, then Juan, and then Nick. The three of us were really close and bonded of our shared nerdy interests of reading, Star Wars, and The Simpsons. We also really enjoyed drawing.
I don't remember how it started exactly, but we ended up making this notebook that we passed back and forth between us. It was a comic about a guy named Tom and his cat. We would each take turns doing a strip of a few panels and then hand it over. [Here is a quick drawing I did of Tom on my phone](https://i.imgur.com/atgHmod.png) so you can get an idea of what he looked like. The comic was about the everyday life of Tom and it was extremely mundane. It was things like Tom tries to decide on a shirt or Tom dropped the cat food on the floor. It was really dumb stuff, but the three of us found it incredibly hilarious because we were weird kids.
One day our teacher caught us with the notebook and confiscated it from us. She never said a word about it, but I bet when she looked through that thing she probably thought it was the weirdest f*****g thing ever, especially since we were laughing hysterically at it when she took it from us. We never got that notebook back because apparently she lost it.
Over 20 years later and I'm still mad about that because I would love to be able to look at the dumb comics we made and because of her that are gone forever.
You carry the memory of it in your heart, and no one can confiscate that.
I had a teacher who assigned us an essay where he had to approve the article we used to analyze. I took mine to him and he said go ahead - they weren’t the best articles but he would accept them for the assignment.
But he was known to be very picky, so when I asked him why I failed (after writing it, editing it, and taking it to the writing center 3 times for review)…he said that the article I chose was a bad one.
I had to rewrite the paper, and got a D as an improvement. I was a student who was a perfectionist and hated even getting a C. A’s and B’s were fine. But I could not stand getting low grades.
To this day, I still can’t stand that teacher.
I approve of your crappy articles -- I need to fail someone and you will do!
My high school Latin teacher was a jock when he was in HS and college, and most of the people in my class were also jocks. I was not a jock, just a short, dumpy guy. He was always ragging on me, putting me down and generally being a low key d**k to me. The worst was when I had signed up for AP Latin for my senior year, and over the summer he blatantly transferred me out to a lower class taught by someone else, I'm sure purely because he didn't like me. I talked to him and when he couldn't come up with an actual reason why I shouldn't be in the class, he grudgingly let me back in. What a d**k.
Good for you for sticking up for yourself. Not everyone that age has the wherewithal to do so.
So, I hate authoritarian teachers - the kind who exert classroom control by monitoring and enforcing minor rules to the fullest extent the system allows.
The kind of teacher who makes a rule that you have to prop the automatically locking door open with the trash can when you leave for the bathroom, and if you forget, she'll refuse to open it for you, and literally make you wait outside for the rest of the class, while nobody else can use the bathroom because you have the only hall pass.
The kind of teacher who creates byzantine formatting rules for assignments, and will reject your paper and give you a zero for using footnotes instead of endnotes.
The kind of teacher who who insists that you only sit quietly when you've finished your work, and will hand out detentions for pulling out a personal book to read if you finish early.
I watched this woman shout a student into tears, yelling that she, "would have the last word!" as the student cried and kept responding, "okay."
The student wasn't talking back. They were just in shock, and instinctively responding with obedience to the teacher shouting at them - but this woman took it as an affront to her authority because "okay" was technically the student "having the last word," and so she continued to berate the student and shout that the last word would be her's until there was nothing but stunned silence across the class.
I'll never forgive that frigid b***h for the psychological abuse she subjected us all to so that she could stroke her own authoritarian ego.
I'm a middle aged professional now and I still see red when I think about some of the teachers I had in school.
I think all prospective teachers, and anyone dealing with children, should have to undergo a psych evaluation designed especially to determine a person's authoritarian tendencies. Then they should take another eval to determine if there are any tendencies towards sexual attraction towards minors.
She mocked me in front of the whole class. I corrected her on I.Q.'s meaning as she kept saying it stood for Intelligence Quota. When I said, "but my mom told me...." She cut me off and said in a snarky tone, "bUt mY MOm ToLD Me." It was the first time I got so mad I wanted to punch a teacher.
Had a sixth grade social studies and homeroom teacher who was super charming and kind, and even made a point to boast about how his "fuse went all the way around the room" in regard to his temper/patience. And then one day when the class made him mad over something the day before, he'd barge into class and spend the whole period verbally abusing the entire class, hitting things with his fist, being irrationally mad. And then the next day he'd be back to being all Bob Ross like it never happened. This happened like 4 more times in the school year just to my class. When he did it to other classes, you could easily hear him going off if you shared a wall with his classroom, and even down the hall.
I was a good kid, and I took it very personally. I'd never been yelled at like that my whole life. I became viscerally afraid of him, horribly anxious, and angry that I had to be subjected to his verbal abuse after having done nothing wrong. I hated the unpredictability of it all too. I'm pretty sure my experience with this man shattered any respect for authority and unlocked something dark in me.
Now that I'm much much older, I'm still mad that nobody in the school intervened to put a stop to his behavior. None of the aides, none of the adjacent teachers, nobody in administration. They knew it was happening. I'd like to think that s**t like this would never fly today. I hope he's dead and I hope his death sucked. You do **not** do that to children.
I have been amazed on this board how many adults just went along with behaviour like this, no-one stopped it. But then, it's the same with my school days - abusive behaviour not being challenged by others. There are a lot of us grumpy people out there!
I had a teacher in 4th grade that just didn't like me for whatever reason. I was a good kid, I got good grades, I never got in trouble. But even at 9 years old I could see that she was treating me not as well as the other kids. Just the way she talked to me, called on me. When I would ask to use the bathroom it was a cold and lifeless response. But when other kids would do the same things I did she was warm and welcoming to them. It really messes with a 9 year old.
Anyway, I was sort of friends with this kid in my class but only out of circumstance since we both went to the after school program which was held in the school by the YMCA. This kid, Chris we'll call him, was a bit of a troublemaker. Once day he said we should sneak back down to our classroom because it would be fun. I was such a goody-goody that this spat of mischievous seemed like a good time for a change.
We get down to the classroom and Chris goes right for the teachers desk. Like he had an agenda and needed an accomplice. He told me to keep a look out then comes up with a giant bag of M&Ms. I asked him what he was doing and he said he was taking them, that was the whole point of going to the classroom. I told him to put them back but he just made for the door to leave. And I followed. We got back to the cafeteria where the after school program is held and he stashes the candy in his backpack. We go about our afternoon.
Half hour later our teacher is talking to the head of the after school program. That is highly unusual, teachers never check in on the after school program. I get pointed at and asked to come over. I get asked if I went back to the classroom and stole the M&Ms. I cover for my "friend" and lie, telling them, "absolutely not." My teacher says she wants to check my backpack. I sigh relief because they're not in there so I know I'm in the clear. I tell them to check it.
They check it... and find the giant bag of M&Ms. That's when I tell the truth about what happened. But it's too late. How did they know the M&Ms were in my bag? Because a*****e Chris never stashed the candy in his own bag. When he went to stash it, he stashed it in my bag. But how did the teacher even know the candy was missing so quickly? Or how to single me out? Because that was a*****e Chris's plan the whole time: lure me down to the classroom, steal the candy, frame me, then go tell on me.
No one believed me that I didn't take them. Not even my own parents. In fact, this story got told for YEARS, for *two* decades, to much laughter and fanfare. I protested every time the story was told. It wasn't until 20 years later after two decades of denying I did it that my parents decided that maybe my "version" of what happened was actually the truth.
Note: this post originally had 50 images. It’s been shortened to the top 35 images based on user votes.
I have two. One bullied and humiliated the autistic kid at every opportunity for an entire year, purely because she didn't like her, until it got to the point the kid started talking about suicide. At age NINE. The kid in question was me. The other one saw one of her students - my little sister - start crying because she had just been informed that her grandfather was on his deathbed. And responded by snippily saying "crying won't make him get better, you know!" Sister was about seven or eight years old at the time, and of course cried even harder. I have never forgiven either of those teachers.
They have now been punched with alien lasers
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A story I have told on BP before: a teacher gave me detention for not doing homework correctly. I wrote it down wrong because I needed new glasses that my parents had to save up for; I couldn't see the board from my assigned seat and the teacher refused to allow me to move to a different seat or to stay a few extra minutes after class to get it down right. I was a Good Kid (aka too emotionally abused to dare do anything wrong) and it was the only time I was ever in trouble at school, and the injustice still stings.
I have a story. My seventh grade design teacher (only for one semester) was horrible. He was sexist as hell and a creep. I had him first block so I pulled the chairs down from the desks because I was early. He yelled at the boys for not stepping in and making me stop. I continued to do anyways. If the boys were playing games, the had work to do and needed to do it and they would never get a gf. He would stand and give weird advice that no one asked for right behind me. He gave lectures about to boys having to make sure us girls didn’t have to do physical work right behind me which made me very uncomfortable. He verbally assaulted me in the hallway for not obeying him when he forgo to tell him he was in charge of my advisory. It made me very uncomfortable and angry. During that experience my advisory inside thought me was going to hit me and were ready. I was with another person at the time and he said nothing to them. I was supposed to give him (continued in comment)
An ice cream gift card at the end of the year and I never did. I was scared of him the rest of my time there. And I will never give him free lawyer services, which he requested. Don’t pick me, I will charge you extra for my torment!
Load More Replies... I have two. One bullied and humiliated the autistic kid at every opportunity for an entire year, purely because she didn't like her, until it got to the point the kid started talking about suicide. At age NINE. The kid in question was me. The other one saw one of her students - my little sister - start crying because she had just been informed that her grandfather was on his deathbed. And responded by snippily saying "crying won't make him get better, you know!" Sister was about seven or eight years old at the time, and of course cried even harder. I have never forgiven either of those teachers.
They have now been punched with alien lasers
Load More Replies... A story I have told on BP before: a teacher gave me detention for not doing homework correctly. I wrote it down wrong because I needed new glasses that my parents had to save up for; I couldn't see the board from my assigned seat and the teacher refused to allow me to move to a different seat or to stay a few extra minutes after class to get it down right. I was a Good Kid (aka too emotionally abused to dare do anything wrong) and it was the only time I was ever in trouble at school, and the injustice still stings.
I have a story. My seventh grade design teacher (only for one semester) was horrible. He was sexist as hell and a creep. I had him first block so I pulled the chairs down from the desks because I was early. He yelled at the boys for not stepping in and making me stop. I continued to do anyways. If the boys were playing games, the had work to do and needed to do it and they would never get a gf. He would stand and give weird advice that no one asked for right behind me. He gave lectures about to boys having to make sure us girls didn’t have to do physical work right behind me which made me very uncomfortable. He verbally assaulted me in the hallway for not obeying him when he forgo to tell him he was in charge of my advisory. It made me very uncomfortable and angry. During that experience my advisory inside thought me was going to hit me and were ready. I was with another person at the time and he said nothing to them. I was supposed to give him (continued in comment)
An ice cream gift card at the end of the year and I never did. I was scared of him the rest of my time there. And I will never give him free lawyer services, which he requested. Don’t pick me, I will charge you extra for my torment!
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