Bad Teachers

Posted: January 31, 2012 in Uncategorized

We’ve all had them. Given, some people are born teachers, with all their grace and compassion and teacherly knowledge – but I think it’s the really bad ones that we remember best.

There’s that one who doubles as the spawn of satan.
He (or she as the case may be) picks on kids — while probably cackling maniacally — for not bringing the right brand of pen to class, for wearing a uniform that hasn’t been ironed enough, for wearing shoes that aren’t white enough, for asking a question he doesn’t approve of, for not asking a question when supposed to, for writing the assignment too long, for writing the assignment too short, for having the audacity to answer when interrogated, for not answering when interrogated, for breathing basically. Confiscates cool stuff like playing-cards and skipping ropes, just to inflict random pain. He is Hitler and the students are all Jews. Probably hates his job and is secretly miserable and functions along the lines of how misery loves company. He is hated by the children he has for breakfast, served with a side of sorrow and crushed dreams.

The eccentric one who spazzes out a lot.
That one who wears bell-bottoms and cardigans on a 30 degrees island in the 20th century, the one who spits all over you while talking, the one who goes on a tangent halfway through the lesson to give way to a sudden violent outburst about something like secret communists in the parliament, the one who pats her students on the butt for doing a good assignment even though they’re 12th graders, or the one who has a bizarre repetitive Tourette Syndrome like habit which makes you count the number of times he said ‘am I right’ or picked his nostril or made the deeply-contemplative-gopher-face in the last half an hour (42 and counting).

The scary one (not to be confused with the spawn of satan one).
Everyone jumps back into their seats and falls silent at her arrival. Fear is struck in the heart of the student who is called to her table. She’s too cool for evil; doesn’t try to be intimidating or pushy, but subtly uses her well-honed skills in personal insults and her so-calm-that-it’s-scary voice to scare the bajeezus out of students she doesn’t like. Nobody wants to piss her off, it’s like poking a bear, but a really silent ninja bear who wants to kill you while you sleep.

The lame joke one.
Oh god, that sad one who wants to be ‘friends’ with the students but fails so miserably that it hurts to watch. He refers books titled ‘Jokes’ and ‘Ice-breakers’ to get material to use on the class, in hopes he’ll become the ‘cool teacher’ and really ‘get through’ to them (has watched The Ron Clark Story 39 times).  Practices a joke in front of the mirror every morning to use on the class. He laughs at his own lame jokes and occasionally slaps a kid on the back while lol’ing hoping they’ll laugh too but it aint gonna happen. I feel sorry for these ones, I just want to give them a big hug and tell them to stop telling jokes.

Finally, the worst teacher — the boring one.
These teachers make me want to kill myself. In class. Via flinging myself out the window. Even though I’ll probably just break a few limbs from this height. Zero ability to teach; reads monotonously from the book instead. You know they’re saying something, but all you hear is blah blah blah blah blah. Doesn’t really care if anyone’s listening or not, keeps speaking at the. same. monotonous. tone. and. beat. for. next. hour. Till you find yourself zoning out and soon lost in a reverie of nothingness, and then you snap back into the present, and you’re all, woah I don’t remember the last ten minutes of my life. This is before you lay your head down on the desk and sleep to the soothing lullaby of his static voice. He’ll ask the class a question, then stare at everyone for the answer, but nobody’s been listening so no one knows what to say, so there’s just a very long awkward silence, before he goes back to reading again. Feels like this one’s ambition is to bore everyone into a coma, slowly and painfully.

an artist’s interpretation of the lame joke one

  1. Tulie says:

    Sigh… Among all these, the really good ones – so few and in-between that I can count them on the fingers of one hand – stand out like gems.

    But yeah… for the most part, they were all one or the other of these types. The ones I hated most were the scary ones and the spawn of satan.

    It was always my misfortune to be either teacher’s pet from the other kinds or the favourite object of bullying of the above two types :\

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