not all teachers are intelligent and considerate.
Not everybody donates to charity, but that doesn't make theft okay.
Oh hey! I have my own share of awful teacher stories.
I was about... Before Kindergarten, so maybe 3 or 4?
There was this teacher at the Pre-K place that I attended who was really awful. We had the assignment of using stamps to make art, and some people (myself included) were instead using the smaller stamps by rubbing them across the paper. Now, I could understand if she tried to nudge us toward the "right" way of doing it, but shrieking at small children for making artwork the "wrong way" is bad in every way.
1. You don't scream at small children.
2. Especially not for things like that.
3. Especially if you're the teacher
4. Stay in that box, dammit! No creative thinking!
Same school. Same teacher.
We were learning to write our names, and I apparently held the marker "like a monkey," which must mean "by clenching my fist around the marker." She did the same thing as before. My parents pulled me out.
Come on, dude! I was three. Even being able to write your own name is pretty good. And yelling is not okay.
I was in 7th or 8th grade. There was a substitute teacher in my Orch class, and my class was ornery. One person, who I will call Andrew, kept throwing erasers at another person, who I will call Bob. Bob was annoyed, and eventually came over to Andrew to tell him to stop. Andrew shouted "Teacher! Bob's throwing erasers at me!" The teacher, without even looking up, ordered Bob to the principal's office. When Bob came over to complain, he threatened to issue a minor (minor infraction of some rule or whatever; it's not good to get one). When other people came over to complain, he sent them all to the principal's office. I stayed in my seat, I'm ashamed to say. But at this point, I had dozens of minors that year, and I didn't want another.
Thankfully, nobody got punished, and the sub never returned.
Same time period. Maybe a little earlier - 6th grade?
I have diabetes. At this age, I had been diagnosed with literally dozens of behavioral disorders - ADHD, ODD, Tourette syndrome (tics, not swearing, FYI), something-spectrum-autism, Asperger's, etc. One of the things put in place in my IEP (individual education plan) was that I could leave any classroom at any time, and go to a specific room. This was so that I could choose flight instead of fight.
So I was reading my book (I loved books. Still do), and the bell rang. There was a substitute teacher for the class. I was very absorbed in the book, and since I normally sat near the teacher's desk, the teacher and I had agreed to a system where she would lightly touch my shoulder, getting me out of the book, if I was reading when the bell rang. This sub apparently didn't get the memo, and ordered me to give the book to her, and she would return it at the end of the day. I was startled and shoved the book under my desk. It was lunch next period, and without a book to hide in, the incessant noise and chatter made me nervous, so I naturally didn't give it up. After all, I hadn't done anything wrong, right? I just hadn't noticed the bell. She hadn't even started teaching yet.
So she stood by me and yelled at me to give the book to her, and I eventually did. I was feeling stressed, naturally, and could feel that things wouldn't go well. I got up quietly and went to the door - but she moved in front of it and refused to let me out. I went back to my seat.
But that's just typical life. Just another confrontation with a teacher, right? The bad part comes next.
Being stressed can affect my blood sugar - it can make me either high or low. Low is the worst in the short term, as it can lead to a coma pretty quickly if not treated, and before that, it affects your nervous system so you can't think straight. I felt low. So I got up quietly, went somewhat quickly to the door - nope. Access denied again. This time, I didn't get back to my seat. It was explicitly stated in my IEP that my diabetes overrode pretty much every rule of the school (within reason) - if I needed to run to fix my diabetes, I run. If I need to cut the line to get lunch so I don't go low, I do so. And a teacher could never prevent me from getting prompt treatment for my diabetes, regardless of how annoying or disruptive it might be for me to test or leave the room.
So I knew that I was in the right, and that this was important. I stood there. She stood there. Some students told her that I needed to leave for my diabetes, but she shouted at them to be quiet. She yelled at me to get back to my seat. I did not. I pulled at the handle. The door didn't move. I pretended to go back to my seat, she moved a foot away, I lunged toward the door, threw it open, shoved the teacher when she tried to grab me, and sprinted out of the classroom as she yelled at me.
I didn't get in any trouble. I'm just glad that I was an ornery, disrespectful child, or who knows? Maybe I would have stayed in my seat as I went into a coma. Maybe she would have yelled at me to get up as I slipped closer and closer to death. I utterly despise anyone who would rank her authority as more important than a student's health.
Wow. Two-and-a-half double-spaced pages.