Hate your teacher?

[Steve Savicki]

http://canada.ratemyteachers.com/ShowRatings.php?tid=703197&type=0

Give him or her bad ratings:

http://canada.ratemyteachers.com

I wonder if the principal, superintendent, and school board use these as a basis on whether or not to fire a teacher or not LOL.

[Hardrock69]

Ya know....one wish I have occasionally is that I could live my life over again KNOWING WHAT I KNOW NOW!!!!

My 5th grade teacher was an older woman who in some years previously had a stroke, and walked with a limp and a cane, and had one arm in a sling.

Whatever it was that pissed her off, she would take her anger out on us kids. It was no fun having that bitch stand there, her face purple with rage, screaming at the class and terrorizing us occasionally on an individual basis.

I curse the day she ever walked the Earth. She was killed in the early 70s in a car crash, and the day I found out about it, I was happy.

I still wish I had never heard her name, that fucking bitch.

There was nothing more terrifying to me as a child than having an old woman slamming her cane as hard as she could on my desk and screaming at me as if I murdered her pet gerbil, simply because I did not get an assignment done on time.

I told my parents about her in recent times, and they wondered why I had never said anything to them about her actions...to which I replied that as a child I was trained to respect my elders, never talk back to grown ups, and do as I was told by those in authority.

If I knew then what I know now, I would have told that fucking bitch to shove that cane so far up her ass that she would choke.

This would have been before I had my parents file a formal complaint to the school board, with the express goal of having that bitch fired.

There....got that off my chest. I was just thinking about her the other day, and hoping that she died a painful and horrible death....

[bueno bob]

We've got one of those "Rate Your Teacher" things in our area...

[DrMaddVibe]

When we grew up and went to school
There were certain teachers who would
Hurt the children in any way they could

By pouring their derision
Upon anything we did
And exposing every weakness
However carefully hidden by the kids
But in the town, it was well known
When they got home at night, their fat and
Psychopathic wives would thrash them
Within inches of their lives.

We don't need no education
We dont need no thought control
No dark sarcasm in the classroom
Teachers leave them kids alone
Hey! Teachers! Leave them kids alone!
All in all it's just another brick in the wall.
All in all you're just another brick in the wall.

We don't need no education
We dont need no thought control
No dark sarcasm in the classroom
Teachers leave them kids alone
Hey! Teachers! Leave them kids alone!
All in all it's just another brick in the wall.
All in all you're just another brick in the wall.

"Wrong, Do it again!"
"If you don't eat yer meat, you can't have any pudding. How can you
have any pudding if you don't eat yer meat?"
"You! Yes, you behind the bikesheds, stand still laddy!"

[Jérôme Frenchise]

Originally posted by Hardrock69
Ya know....one wish I have occasionally is that I could live my life over again KNOWING WHAT I KNOW NOW!!!!

My 5th grade teacher was an older woman who in some years previously had a stroke, and walked with a limp and a cane, and had one arm in a sling.

Whatever it was that pissed her off, she would take her anger out on us kids. It was no fun having that bitch stand there, her face purple with rage, screaming at the class and terrorizing us occasionally on an individual basis.

I curse the day she ever walked the Earth. She was killed in the early 70s in a car crash, and the day I found out about it, I was happy.

I still wish I had never heard her name, that fucking bitch.

There was nothing more terrifying to me as a child than having an old woman slamming her cane as hard as she could on my desk and screaming at me as if I murdered her pet gerbil, simply because I did not get an assignment done on time.

I told my parents about her in recent times, and they wondered why I had never said anything to them about her actions...to which I replied that as a child I was trained to respect my elders, never talk back to grown ups, and do as I was told by those in authority.

If I knew then what I know now, I would have told that fucking bitch to shove that cane so far up her ass that she would choke.

This would have been before I had my parents file a formal complaint to the school board, with the express goal of having that bitch fired.

There....got that off my chest. I was just thinking about her the other day, and hoping that she died a painful and horrible death....

Thank you for sharing through this great post.
I met a couple of witches back in school days too... frustrated, mean nuns... I was the only pupil in my class not to submit to their absurd ways. I resisted for years, till I left for high school, what a release it was...
It would of course take me many days and nights to tell about what was going on in those days. I had the coolest schoolmaster ever when I was from 4 to 6. She loved us and we loved her too. It was daily fun. Every day, 10 minutes before the bell, she made us walk around the classroom, standing with her hand low enough for each kid to be able to reach it by raising their hands. Next lap, she raised her hand higher, until most of us had sat down, leaving us taller children compete for victory at "the horses". We did the normal stuff, but she made us sing and play music a lot.
She sang the outspoken songs of the time with us, like "Tonight, we're gonna go dancing without a shirt, without pants" :D .
One Monday morning, after a wedding weekend, I went to see her with my girlfriend (as we were "best man" and "bridesmaid"), as our fathers asked us (as a joke) to. They didn't think we would, but we did sing her two bawdy songs we had learnt during the celebration:

It went like this:

Eeeeevr'y man who pisses holds his dick in his hand
He holds his dick in his hand
He holds his dick in his hand
Eeeeevr'y man who holds it anyhow
The last drop's for his boxer shorts...

She was English, from Jersey Island, so she didn't know the northern French dialects. She asked our mothers what those songs were about. :D

----------------------------------------
As for the "ratemyteachers" thing, I sure would have loved it when I was a pupil... But now I'm a teacher myself... :D
Well, it can help firing bullies, child abusers or incompetent imposters, so why not?

But it allows vindictive non-founded accusations too.

Then why not "bashmypupils"?

[Hardrock69]

My best friend suffered under the heavy yoke of oppression laid down by the nuns at his Catholic school....

He was yanked after one year, and was so traumatized he had to start seeing a psychologist....this when he was about 7 or 8....

Oh well. Against all odds he and I grew up into fine upstanding adults....

MWUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
:D

[Jérôme Frenchise]

(Hardrock69) :D How lucky... I spent 12 HELLISH years in that Catholic school (from 2 1/2 to 14 1/2)...

Though 90% of teachers weren't nuns, you had to deal with the bloody 10%. Many of "civils" were not exactly fun either...

One of the schoolmistresses was (and still is - she's the director now) my own mother. :D I was in her classroom when I was 8-9 years old. She was all right (and still is ), but I was often mischieving (I understood and worked too fast, so as not to get bored I acted the clown :D ). When I went too far, she'd send me to the director nun's classroom. She was a nazi-like dragon who killed kids with just one look. She sent you to the bottom of the classroom where you had to kneel down for hours writing lines and lines and lines...

One day, I refused to go there. My mum had to chase me around her classroom for a few minutes, between the other pupils. She finally had to laugh and I eventually accepted to face the old dragon.

When we were in that maniac of a nun 2 years later, my best friend and I were the usual targets of her "hate". He had a Polish name, and one day, as the nun was releasing her very frequent bad mood on him. She ended up saying: "... you and your communist shirt!" He was wearing a bright red shirt... :D We were only 10 years old. She got mad when she realized I was number one in the end of the schoolyear, just like in the previous years, as she knew I never opened my school books at home.
She told me if the Bible had allowed cheating with figures, she would have changed the ranking...

When I was 13, I had another crazy nun as a math teacher. She was so biased towards me (because I was a rebel, I had rejected religion for years, you'll understand why. I even either only moved my lips during the compulsory prayers or religious songs, or I really sang and changed the words into bawdy lyrics :D ). One morning, as she was checking around the pupils's geometry exercises, she stopped at me, her face turning crimson, and she said, in an evil way, with a like inferno in her eyes: "This is utterly wrong. You mock us." Then she drew a mean red line across my exercise book and added, furiously: "Go to your mother's and do it again!"

My mother's... classroom, in the primary school across the yard. Humiliation... I spent a dozen minutes in between, in a corridor, and finally went there. I told my mum what had happened, I showed her my exercise (which I knew was right), and she told me she'd back me (maybe for the first time in that school; I was always wrong to the system, as I wanted to be, but that time it was too much for me). When I showed my geometry again to the fucking nun (in French they're called "good sisters" :D ), juxtaposing what she had said to be no good and what I'd done "at my mother's", it hurt her fucking ego but she had to confess she had made a mistake.

During the dozen minutes spent in the corridor, I felt awfully humiliated and hateful. I hesitated between riding my bike as far as possible from there or climbing up the stairs back in the classroom and strangle that church whore to a slow, painful death in front of my schoolmates.

In the end of the day, we all spent the last hour in various "clubs". I went to the chess club... the nun organised. I had played for only a year. She was said to be a wizard. As she knew she'd been unfair, she proposed me a game, trying to look kind, with a slight look of revenge in her eyes. She quickly had her usual look as the game went on. I was willing to win like never before. My schoolmates stopped their own games when they noticed the nun was increasingly embarrassed. They all gathered around the table, and as I realised she might be counting on the bell to save her honor (nobody had ever beaten the bitch in that school), I finished her off. Checkmate. :D

The week after, she kept me in on Saturday morning (which never happened). She gave me math exercises for one hour in... her own appartment, and she eventually said: "Well, Jérôme, it's all right now, how about playing chess?" It got me mad, but I simply answered I had other things to do, which was half diplomacy.

The bottom of this was she had to change schools for the next schoolyear, and she wanted me to toe the line, as she couldn't stand resistance. She wouldn't leave a single declared opponent to her mad dictatorship. But she never saw me bend over her.

I saw her again 11 years after at a girlfriend's wedding ten years ago. I didn't know she'd be there. When she saw me, she still had that very same hateful look, and I went to see her, rejoicing at the idea she would get mad bumping against a wall once again :D . I took my champagne glass and had a talk with the other two persons who were with her. The only word I said to her was "Bonjour", whereas the custom is to say "Bonjour ma soeur" ("Good morning/afternoon/evening my sister"), with a little touch of defiance in my eyes. While talking, I checked at her as she was going crazy with jealousy and humiliation. The old crimson complexion was back again. I just trampled her with amused disdain.

It's jus a couple of key moments among many others.
How could I be a practising Catholic after that?