K - Mrs. Henderson
1st - Mrs. Maxwell (Only bad teacher I had through elementary school).
2st - Mrs. Hilton
3rd - Mrs. Mosebar <---- Forgot this one. My mother remembered though.
4th - Mrs. Spencer
5th - Mrs. Flynn
K-5
Mrs. Hogge, Mrs. Dust, Mrs. Rodgers, Ms. Volkmar, Mrs. Burford, Mrs. James. And I could tell you tons of specific things about each one. I would think it would be strange not to remember them.
snerk Nope, he wasn’t Dr. Doom: but we did make a lot of jokes about his name. He was a decent man, but very tough in science: he was also hard of hearing and became fully deaf later in life. His mom was also deaf, and I remember he was taking care of her when I was in 6th grade.
Our principal was Mr. Sims: he was a survivor of the Bataan Death March. Wonderful man, very sweet and caring. I thought the world of him. 
I’ll be 46 in a couple of weeks. Holy moley, where does the time go? Anyway, my brain is full of useless trivia. Here goes:
St. Emydius, Lynwood:
1st grade - Miss O’Brien
2nd - Miss Delgado
3rd - Miss George
4th - Miss Anderson
5th - Mrs. Cook
6th - Sister Joan
–family moves, I transfer to St. Bonaventure, HB:
6th - Miss Soukup
7th - Sister Cecilia
8th - Ms. Michaels. (the first time I heard someone insist on the “Ms.”)
No wonder I like Jeopardy & Trivial Pursuit. I can’t remember what I’m supposed to do at work for the day, but I can still quote the Gilligan’s Island and Brady Bunch theme songs!
Párvulos 1: I had two. A nun whose name I don’t remember but which thankfully I only suffered for 3 months, followed after a change of school by Mariángeles, who would give me her newspaper to read (Diario de Navarra) and, after the midmorning break, bring two newspapers borrowed from other teachers (El País and El Pensamiento Navarro, which was the same one Dad bought). This kept me out of her hair.
Párvulos 2: Cary. I got pretty bored that year, no newspapers and I’d finished every book in the class by the end of the first trimester.
1st grade: Mariángeles again, and more newspapers. It’s the only year we didn’t have boys in the class, they’d all moved over to the Jesuits.
2nd grade: Mother María Luisa García. The poor woman is still trying to understand how can a girl be so bad at sewing, but that’s all right, as the boys were back and most were as lousy with a needle as I am (the Jesuits and the Nuns had made a deal, both went co-ed, the Nuns taught kindergarten to 8th grade and the Jesuits got high school). She got very nervous every time I treated my bic pen as a cigarrette, a habit I’d picked from my chain-smoking father.
3rd grade: Raquel (Cary’s sister). Cary had gotten promoted, she was teaching the other 3rd grade group.
4th grade: dang it Mariángeles, aren’t you tired of me yet? It was the year of the almost-constant tonsillitis, and the first year we had Phys Ed with The Lousiest Phys Ed Teacher Ever (well, maybe not, but she blows goats and does it so badly the goats run away). At the end of the year Mariángeles told my mother “you know, it’s the third time I have your daughter and I’ve finally believed that the director was right when she said the kid’s a genius: she’s got a B average having missed 40% of classes, and I can assure you I have not inflated her grades at all.”
5th grade: my first male teacher. Oh God. Everybody calls him Frankenstein, as in the monster. He’s pretty tall and has a very bad case of Shoulders and a square jaw. Add in platform shoes, a corduroy jacket with shoulderpads that would make Armani proud and a crew cut… he found me “funny” because until then he’d taught 11th graders, this wasn’t just his first year in 5th grade but also the first time he had “a girl questioning his authority.” Which I never meant to, but it pisses me when other people are entitled to explanations and I’m not (Mariángeles back in K1 was the first teacher to set me to tutor other students).
He had to teach us, among other things, art. He didn’t try to teach it at all, but instead told us to produce 10 drawings, “whatever you want to draw”, for each of the 5 “evaluation periods” of the school year. I asked whether we should write a title, he said no.
My first 10 drawings got a bare “pass” and a note saying “too hieratic.” The dictionary said that “hieratic” means “resembling a statue.” Guess what had I drawn 
I closed the dictionary exclaiming “all teachers are morons!” My mother (the unemployed teacher) asked, from the living room, “what was that?” “Nothing, Mom.”
6th: Mother Ruiz. She also taught Math, it was the first year that we had a teacher for every subject. She didn’t understand Math at all, which was a little bit of a problem.
7th: Father Irefusetogivehisname. He’d been sent over from another school, something normal when your school belongs to a religious order. He told us that, since he hadn’t been hearing about us for years like other teachers would have, he wanted to meet us all individually after class, fair enough.
I was part of the first batch to have to stay. The first boy left the office looking like he had a storm in his ass. We heard a strong BUMP when the next one, a girl, was in, and she left at some 120km/h. Then it was my turn. I left at charging-legionary speeds after elbowing the bastard.
My parents were the only ones who didn’t present a complaint: I recently discovered that this was completely Mom’s doing, she hid the reason for the “emergency meeting” from Dad until they were there, thus blindsiding him. She still believes that students’ respect for the authority of the teachers is more important that teachers’ respect for the students’ right to privacy and to decide who grabs their ass.
From the following year on, the Father had gotten over his dickopause; any student who wasn’t in my class will swear he’s the sweetest old guy ever.
An additional detail: dude shares my mother’s lastname. That is, the lastname of the maternal grandfather who my mother has been covering for for ages… (her response to “your father is trying to pimp me out” was “if your father hears a word about this, I’m kicking you out of the house”). I don’t know whether that was a factor, the woman is generally wrong in the head when it comes to both authority figures and sex.
It was also the first of two years I had Vicente (Science) and Julio (Lit), who made me realize that not ALL teachers are morons, only some of them. Vicente is a politician now and I happily vote for him.
8th grade: Setas. He was our Draftsmanship teacher, so I’d had him since 6th grade since that was one of my optionals. Nice fellow, he found me kind’a strange but basically figured I was “quite feminine as tomboys go.”
It’s been, um, a few decades since the elementary school thing, but while certain teachers (kindergarten, first grade) have faded into the mists of memory, others I can recall (and picture) plain as day.
Mrs. F., second grade, was a large squat battleax who sent me out to stand in the hall as punishment for reading ahead in our Dick and Jane reader. In retrospect, I’m not sure why she thought that was a punishment.
Other notables included Miss Freudendorff, the prettiest of my teachers (I can still remember the look of disbelief on her face when I came in and told her JFK had been assassinated). Mrs. Torres (5th grade) despised me and both my siblings who suffered through her homeroom before me. My brother used to refer to her as “Torres the Bull”.
For a fun description of elementary school teachers, check out Bill Bryson’s autobiography. He had a hard time in school and took some relish in describing his teachers (he probably remembered their names, but referred to them in the book using pseudonyms such as Miss Lesbos and Miss Funny-Looking Little Fat Thing).
I’m pushing 50, and have been worrying about my memory.
K- Miss English
1-Miss Light
1-(moved) Mrs. Kirby
2-Miss Beckman
2-(moved) _____? lost this memory
3-Miss Rust
4-_____had her only 2 months.
4-(moved) Mrs. Money
5-Miss Pendergast
6-Miss Pendergast
I have a little memory left. Just no short-term memory.
Kindergarten: Mrs. Yoder. Terrible teacher. Part of it wasn’t her fault, because she got stuck with all the special needs and ESL students that year. If I recall correctly, there were 5 kids who spoke no English and two special-needs kids. She’s apparently still teaching kindergarten there.
First grade: Mrs. Bednar. I loved first grade, because I was decided to be so ahead of the reading groups I just got to go hang out in the library every day, pretty much unsupervised (in retrospect: wtf?) Still teaching there.
Second grade: Miss McDermott. Had a seemingly endless repertoire of horribly age-inappropriate stories about how she killed her pets (left a dog out overnight during the winter, sat on her parrot, etc). Insisted I had significant learning disabilities because I never paid attention in reading group.
Third grade: Mrs. Smith. Made us write daily journals, but we could staple the pages in half if it was private, and she wouldn’t read it. I often used that to just doodle to look busy in class. Still teaching there.
Fourth grade: Mrs. King. Awful. Called me hopeless in front of the class. Lots of worksheets. She’d come in with pages of ‘notes’ - basically a textbook copied nearly verbatim - and write them on the board. We’d copy them down in silence. This was her teaching style.
Fifth grade: Miss Sheerin. Got married and became Mrs. Owens in the middle of the year. Very cool teacher. Young and pretty, and on some ‘girls and moms night’ thing, took time to tell us all that sometimes boys will be mean, but always remember that you’re worthwhile and beautiful. Don’t recall too much more.
Sixth grade: Mrs. Gorman. Awful woman. Once sent me to the office, not the nurse, for getting a nosebleed in class. Advised the girls in our class that marrying a rich man was the way to success. Freaked out if a bug, even a fly, ever got in the classroom.
Other teachers: Mrs. Griesler the art teacher (I still remember her baffling ‘catchphrases’ and still have no idea what the hell they mean), Mrs. Sharp was the Talented and Gifted program teacher, Mrs. Wood was the librarian (who was awesome), Mr. Early ran the safety patrol program (and taught special ed, I think), Mrs. K______ (something eastern European I’ve never known how to spell) was the music teacher, Mrs. Silver the school psychologist (Yeah, I spent some time with her), Miss Tomasetti the speech therapist. And Mr. Biddle, the pedophile gym teacher.
ETA: Holy hell, the boy I dated in 8th grade and haven’t seen in about a decade is apparently now teaching 2nd grade at my old elementary. I suddenly feel old.
I attended a Chapter 766 self contained preschool from age 3-5. That was Mrs. Sandy (and I freaking LOVED HER)
Kindergarten I don’t remember my teacher’s name. I think I might have had a split placement sort of dealie where I spent a couple of hours with Mrs. Sandy and then in kindy.
First grade (first year of mainstreaming) Mrs. Holmes
second- Miss Ferrari (and we kids thought we were so witty by calling her Miss Ferrari-Car)
Third- Mr. Hutchings
Fourth- Mrs. Lambert
Fifth-Mr Burke
Sixth Mrs. Silva
Just turned 30…
Real or fake pedophile?
We had a REAL pedophile gym teacher at the jr high…
Oh and my other teachers…: Mrs. Kantawraski (art) Mr Forbush (music) Mrs Richard (replaced Mr Forbush around fourth grade) Mr Resmini (gym)
Mrs Seely (sped) Mrs. Villa (sped) Mr Beach, Mr Carter (adjustment counselors)
Scary thing is that there are still teachers (who did not have me!) at the elementary school who remember me!