how many times did you visit the principals office and why. me once in 3rd won an award once in 5th but dealt with by our councilor bullied and hit at lunch lost 1 recess for not getting help sooner. 2 times within a week sophomore year to report trash shoved in locker the first time and a derogatory term on locker door the 2nd time. once in jr year should of been a detention for disobeying a teacher but was excused. and 3 times senior year 2 for a bully and once when the school kept doing this thing with the computers that sounded like a mosquito buzzing.
I’ve got no idea. I fought a lot in elementary school and junior high. ONce I started playing football and track I was able to deal with my anger better. I was probably suspended at least once a year and I remember in 4th grade I beat up a 7th grader and put him in the hospital and since it was my third suspension that year I was out for a week.
I would guess several dozen times and I almost didn’t get into the private high school I went to due to my “citizenship”.
In first grade I wanted to see if the principal really had an electric paddle, so I started a conversation with him while he was on his way to the office. In high school some wrote on lockers that I was selling drugs, and they had searched my locker and found a bottle of allergy meds with my mom’s name (we were prescribed the same meds). They questioned several students with lockers near mine if they thought I was dealing, and everyone found the question so absurd that they burst out laughing.
I’ve worked in school the last 16 years, so I’ve been to the office hundreds of times during that period.
When I was an angelic little third grader in Christian school, I went to the principal’s office and got paddled at least once a week. You see, it wasn’t enough to just do our homework, we had to have our parents sign it, and for some reason remembering that little detail was beyond me (and apparently, my mother).
In high school, I was sent to the office a few times for dress code infractions. I actually skipped classes quite a bit but didn’t get caught. Once when I was left alone in the principal’s office, I rifled through her desk and found a pad of hall passes conveniently pre-stamped with her name. I handed those out to lots of people, but unfortunately I still had one on me the day they searched my possessions because I smelled like booze. I got a Saturday school detention out of that one. Jeez, it sounds like I was quite the little hellraiser after all!
A handful of times over 12 years but the one I remember the most was in 6th grade ('76-'77) IIRC. This was in Texas, and we had paper covers that we put on our text books issued to us. We were also allowed to decorate our book covers as we wanted as long as it abided with school policy (no cursing, lewd images, nudity, etc.) KISS was my favorite band at the time, and I had photos of the band members cut out of magazines glued to my science book cover.
My science teacher saw my book cover and became aghast. She said that the images on my book were satanic, and that I needed to go to the vice principals office immediately.
So I make my way to the his office, which was literally 3 doors from that particular classroom. Mr. Gregory asked why I was sent to his office. I showed him my text book and told him that my science teacher was apparently using her own personal religious standard to judge my music choices and that to my knowledge the photos I had glued to my book cover were in compliance with the school policy. He asked where I got the photos, and I told him out a of a mainstream entertainment magazine that is sold in every grocery store in town. He thought a minute, gave me a note and sent me back to class.
The note said that I was permitted to return to class with no consequences.
I did just that and gave the note to my science teacher. She scoffed and I never heard another word about it.
Forgot 1 senior year again sent home sick .even though the principal only did it as I got into a bit of trouble for leaving class. but since I told the truth I wasn’t in trouble. but we had to make the other 2 girls think my punishment was the same as what they got. So I missed 2.5 days they thought I had oss but I was actually home with bronchitis.
Maybe a dozen times when I was in K-through-6, mostly for talking in class. Once in 5th grade, a teacher was being unnecessarily harsh to a friend of mine, and I called her a bitch. She thought I had called my buddy a son of a bitch, and she was aghast when I explained, “No, Bill is my friend. I called you a bitch.” In junior high and high school, discipline cases were sent to the Dean of Boys or Dean of Girls. By then, I mostly only got in trouble for tardiness.
In high school, the guy I sat next to in homeroom had the same name as me (different middle initials) and he used to skip school about once a week. His first day back, the morning announcements would bellow burpo, report to Mr. Assistant Principal’s office. We’d both head down there, knowing full well who they meant, but–you never know–maybe they needed me for something. We’d be sitting there and Mr. AP’s door would open and he would point at me and say, You, back to class, then point to my doppelgänger and say, You, my office, and that would be that. Until the next week.
Other than that, never called down for behavior issues; I was Goody Two Shoes.
Constantly, because my father was the principal. Other than that, I got detention once for yelling at the girl sitting behind me whispering homophobic slurs during class, but I didn’t have to go to the principal’s office.
At least twice that I remember, both times for standing up to bullies. The bullies got suspended.
Then there’s the time when I was a high school Freshman and one of the older guys sent me to the nurse, who sent me home. Only I didn’t go straight home; the relative who picked me up had to run some errands in town first. When we did get home, I learned that the principal had been calling to find out exactly what happened. He was concerned that there was a fight in the locker room; I told him that it was just some horsing around which got out of hand and there wasn’t really anything to be concerned about. Which was pretty much true.
Between school & home, I got dropped off at an arcade to kill time. I was so keyed up on adrenaline that I topped the high score list on Battlezone, beating the second highest by some ridiculous amount.
I think I win Goody Two Shoes.
When I was in first grade each student could earn good citizen points, and when the student earned enough points, the student got a tiger stripe. And when the the student got three tiger stripes, the student would go to the principal’s office to be presented with the now completed tiger tail.
I might have been the first to achieve the coveted tiger tail. Or second. I really wish I had kept that tiger tail, which was just three lengths of yarn braided together.
I can’t remember ever visiting the Principal’s Office. I may have done, but have no memory of it. I did, however, visit the Vice-Principal’s Office maybe three times. Once was due to a punishment, or at least a dressing-down of some kind. Once was a more casual “wait in here until I return, so we can go do the thing” which was probably seeing another teacher for something. I was probably “on duty” that day, which was a rostered day of being a runner for the Staff we all had to do. I can’t remember, but I think the third time was something even more innocuous than that, because by that time I was an older kid, 17 or so, and the teachers had become a lot more friendly towards me.
I went to a very small High School, a rural school that had only 350 pupils covering ages 11-17. It was much easier to get weirdly aggressive teachers who were pushed into working in the middle of nowhere, but also a lot easier to get to know the teachers on a more equal level as they were always around and taught you off-and-on throughout your years there.
Early 1960’s - in grade 7 it was an honor to be chosen to be “Principal’s Monitor” for the day. You sat at a desk (with the day’s schoolwork) just outside (maybe just inside) the Principal’s office. Periodically, you would be given notes which had to be given to one (or more) teachers. Knock on the classroom door, give the teacher the note, and return to your desk.
We were also allowed to press the button to ring the bell (which rang outside and throughout the building) at various times (before that process became automated).
That was the only time I was near the “Office”.
Had to go to the Principals office maybe twice in my 8 years of grade school. In high school you have to see the Dean, not the principal.
Only been to the Dean’s office once in four years, although I knew him and he knew me. My junior year this punk freshman kid said he didn’t like me while on the school bus that I rarely rode, and said he was going to kick my butt. He had a couple of his boys with him so he decides to mouth off. He got all up in my face saying he ought to do it right now. I told him to wait until we got off the bus.
The bus let us off on the at the gates in front of the school. He struts around in front of me like he was a rooster saying how bad he was going to beat me, with everyone on the bus watching. While in my face, he turns to his head to his boys asking if he should do it now. That’s when I clocked him in the jaw and he went down to the ground. He got up and ran to me and tried to knock me down. I got him in a headlock and beat him mercilessly then kept banging his head into the iron fence… The guards made me let him go. They took both of us to the Deans office. He kept screaming he was going to get me. The Dean laughed and told me to go back to class. Never saw that kid ever again. Not sure what happened to him.
So two trips to the Principals office for something I did wrong.
One trip to the Deans office, where I didn’t get in trouble at all.
Way too many times to remember. And in none of them did I come out smelling like a rose.
And the trip home in Mom’s car felt like walking the Last Mile–the outcome usually involved some combination of a belt and being grounded.
Preface: The principal’s secretary was a major snoop and gossip. She had to know EVERYBODY’s business. She would use binoculars to watch kids returning from our “open lunch” period in the public park adjacent to the HS parking lot. She kept a tally of all the kids that went into the park apparently to make sure they returned when lunch break was over. She also kept an eye out for smokers (cigs, pot didn’t exist in my little town). It was permissible to smoke in the park but not on school property.
I was coming back from the park and I absentmindedly flicked my dead cigarette after I took several steps onto school property. Of course this was duly noted by above mentioned secretary. I ended up with a 3 day detention to be celebrated in the principal’s office. First day of detention I noticed secretary holding up every piece of incoming mail to the light so as to inspect the contents before placing it in the appropriate teacher’s mail box. That gave me an idea.
When I got home I took a sheet of paper and wrote on it in bold magic marker, “WHY ARE YOU SNOOPING AT EVERYBODY’S MAIL? FARK YOU!!!”. Stuck it in an an envelop, made sure my message as clearly visible if the envelop was held to the light. Addressed it generically to the school with no return address and ran it down to the PO to mail it.
Next day I’m sitting in detention watching her go thru the mail, holding each one up to the light, as per her practice. When she got to my letter she turned amusingly apoplectic. Who could she show the letter to without busting herself? It was all I could do to keep a straight face.
Once, I got in trouble for something that happened on the way home from school. Until then, I thought I was out of their control once off the premises. I was walking home, and I heard two kids yelling, “Hey, come back here!” I turned to look, and there were two kids my size chasing a smaller kid, who was riding a full size bicycle. “Stop him!”, they shouted, and I assumed the little kid was stealing the bike. I grabbed the handlebar, knocking him down. The bigger kids caught up, and I just went on home. The next day at school, I’m in trouble for attacking the kid on the bike. I tried to explain, but still had to stay after school.
My small town had three school buildings: k-4, 5-8 and 9-12. The k-4 and the 5-8 shared a principal, but he had an office and a secretary in each building. My mother was his secretary in the k-4 building.
Okay, eighth grade, I drew a pornographic picture and got caught. I still remember the shocked look on the teacher’s aide’s face when she took it and sent me to the principal’s office. He gave me a long lecture about inappropriate
behavior but said because I’d never been in trouble before, he was going to let me off with a warning and, most importantly to me, he was going to keep it between us. I get home that evening and my mother asks me how school was. I tell her fine. She asks if I got in trouble at school. At this point, I know he told her. For some reason that I can’t recall, but apparently made perfect sense to me at the time, I was filled with self-righteous indignation and I was going to make her admit that he had told her. So I said, no, I did not get in trouble at school. She pressed me on it a little, but she never admitted that she actually knew and eventually she dropped it.
We talked about it years later and she said that, yes, he had told her. But he had thought it was really funny and made her promise not to say anything. Apparently she was better at keeping her word than he was.
That reminds me of a note I sent to a friend at school. It got confiscated by the teacher and I had to go talk to her about it. The note was written as if it was the piece of paper actually speaking to the reader and the teacher said she had enjoyed it very much until she got to the part that said, “Would you please move your left hand? I consider that to be a private part of my body.” 
Maybe grade 9, in the crowded hall, principal standing by his door, points to me and gestures me inside. “Who is the ringleader of all the trouble in Miss Douglas’ World History?” I must have Stoolie stamped all over me. “I dunno”. End of meeting. The only one I remember.