In 6th or 7th grade, we had Mr. J for science. I think we were convinced he was a Nazi scientist bitter about losing the war and trying to take it out on American kids. For one thing he would devote about 5 minutes out of every class trying to make us learn to speak German. He was also extremely strict. You had to buy a certain type of notebook paper approved by him in order to do your work. If you turned in an assignment on the wrong paper, it would be thrown out and counted as a zero. The correct type of ink must also be used, no pencil. Any errors in penmanship would cause massive points to be deducted. I think for each such error (and if you made them in pen, you couldn’t erase) a paper would lose a letter grade. He also delighted in calling students “stupid” if they got something wrong.
Grade 10-11 science, Mr. M was one of the most beloved teachers. He would always joke around with the class and had a great rapport. He would inform us the first week of class that he would allow himself one week to learn the students’ names. After that, if he messed up your name you would earn a “shot” at him. A “shot” meant you could call him anything you wanted (no profanity) in any place at any time and he would have to smile and take it. Supposedly one student had the ultimate revenge walking by Mr. M in the hallway with the principal and calling him something odd (I think it was “puke-faced orangutan” or something) and Mr. M just smiled and said thanks as the principal looked on dumbfounded.
Mr. M also promised that if any student ever got 100% on an exam (his exams were tough and he was a tough grader) that the student could choose what Mr. M would wear for an entire day at school. I believe one student finally won the contest and had Mr. M dress in drag. I was pissed because on one exam Mr. M had offered “extra credit” for some bonus questions. I only earned something like a 99% on the regular exam, just missing part of one question, but I got the extra credit which put me up to over 100% but Mr. M refused to dress up for me, claiming I had not earned the 100% total for the exam itself.
Mr. M also had an annual “weird food day” where he would invite students to bring odd foods to class and we’d just spend that period eating.
Mr. M was also prone to spending part of all of a period telling stories about his life, which usually involved friends of his hurting themselves (one guy had supposedly tried to remove his own abcessed tooth with a chisel) or the time Mr. M had been kicked out of college for some drunken debauchery at a football game. Or his endless parade of weird jobs prior to teaching, most of which had apparently only lasted weeks or months before something bizarre brought them to an end (I swear his life was like a series of Three Stooges films, or at least that’s the way he described it).
My Grade 11 class with Mr. M turned out to be an all-male class (probably my first and only such class in high school) so Mr. M delighted in sharing dirty jokes. Nothing too dirty, of course. He was a great teacher who engaged us with laughter and then actually taught us a lot of hard facts, and made it fun with his little contests or goofy test questions.
Grade 11 US History … Mr. W was the most boring teacher I’ve ever met. He was a PE teacher, wrestling coach, and I guess they force the PE teachers to teach a few academic classes. Each day for the entire year consisted of Mr. W taking a seat at the front of the class, opening up the assigned textbook, and reading it for 45 minutes until class was over. He might stop once or twice and ask “Do you guys understand this?” and someone would invariably says “uh huh” and he’d continue. It was sort of hard actually because he’d give us fairly tough quizzes and it was so hard to absorb any of the material presented in such a flat manner. I don’t remember a single trip to the chalkboard, map, or handout of any kind in that class. Just the book delivered to us via the most monotone voice in history.
Grade 11-12 Spanish. Mr. R was a goofy old man. He didn’t like flourescent lights so he filled his room with old-fashioned lamps which meant it was a little dark, and a little warm. He also removed the front row of desks and replaced them with very comfortable chairs. He’d switch the seating assignment every couple of weeks so everyone got to sit in the big comfy chairs, although that also meant you were sitting up front where he could see you. It was right after lunch, it was dark and warm and the chair was comfy, and I fell asleep on more than one occasion. If he caught you snoozing he’d immediately ask you a question to test if you were paying attention. If you got it wrong, you lost your comfy chair privleges and had to switch with someone else. So it was a mixed blessing. About midway through the year until the end of the year he’d bring in the guitar and every day would begin with us singing in Spanish, either Spanish standards (clean versions of La Cucaracha) or more modern stuff (Eres Tu).
He also showed us a slide show about his life. He married a woman about 20 years his junior, who had at one time been his student. At one point she left him and he went into an almost suicidal depression but then she came back and he was the happiest man on Earth again. That’s when I had him for a teacher, during the happy time. Mr. R’s class was always a fun, singing and joking good time. But I do think he was a little nuts.
Huh … I don’t have as many female teacher stories. They were all pretty straight, just-the-facts type teachers.