In 3rd grade, I had a substitute teacher who insisted that Hawaii was in the Carribean. I recall having to point out on the map that, even though the box with it was below Florida, the water around it was labelled “Pacific Ocean.”
On bosses, I remember one who seemed to have trouble grasping that it was a bad idea to bill the federal government for work we hadn’t done yet. (And he had worked in a rather high position in the GSA, and should definitely have known better.)
In third and fourth grade, we had this teacher’s aide named Mrs Gilbert. She was responsible for administrative tasks, discipline, recess supervision, and (I regret to say) occasionally teaching.
We learned a lot of gems from her, but this little-known fact could have made me a superstar biologist:
Birds are not animals. They’re birds.
Bugs aren’t animals either. They’re called insects.
Spiders? Earthworms? Not animals either, I’m afraid. Black widows and nightcrawlers are also… insects.
My ninth grade biology teacher was floridly dyslexic. I’d cut him a break on this, but he consistently mispronounced even relatively common words, like “moneran,” “nomenclature,” and “astronomer.” Seems that if you hear the word often enough, you’d learn to pronounce it… even the word only looks like a jumble of letters to you. This is the same guy who showed up at a pool party for the cheerleaders, uninvited.
When I was in the Navy, I had to do rotating shifts - for no apparent reason other than someone wanted us to do that.
We had this cycle: [ul]2 days of 7 PM - 7 AM
[li]24 hours off[/li][li]2 days of 7 AM - 7 PM[/li][li]96 hours off[/li][li]repeat[/ul][/li]This was not aboard ship or deployed. This was in the Pentagon in the communications center. We made photocopies of message traffic (pre-email days) and put the messages in cubby holes. We also received outgoing messages for transmission.
The Army and Air Force worked 3 - 8 hour shifts without the rotating. But for whatever reason, the Navy couldn’t do that.
I can’t count the number of times I honestly don’t remember how I got home. I did this for 6 months before I was able to transfer to a different area.
Because it’s hard to find people who are willing to work 2nd and 3rd shift – and even then, they usualy want to transfer to 1st shift ASAP and the search begins all over again. The “solution”: Give EVERYONE crap hours.
I worked 3rd shift for 3½ years, and Mr. S for about 7. Our suggestions as to how to make 3rd shift more attractive (substantial shift differentials – a few bucks instead of 50 cents, more vacation, extra sick days, flexible scheduling) fell on deaf ears.
They just don’t seem to understand that if they want to operate around the clock, it ought to cost them. I was so glad to go freelance and get out of the rat race.
Wonder if we had the same sub, clueless about many things that you’d hope most grown-ups knew.
This second grade substitute was telling us that the world was round. He expounded on all the things that the roundness of the world meant. He pointed at a map and said that if you kept going east, you’d come back on the west side of the map. And if you kept going north, you’d end up coming back on the south side of the map (I wasn’t geometrically savvy enough in second grade to catch that error right away).
Then I asked a question that had been bugging me.
Engywook: So what would the earth look like from Mars?
Sub Teacher: Round.
Engywook: But would it look like a star?
Sub Teacher: The earth would look round. Not shaped like a star.
Engywook: I know, but Venus is just a point of light to us. Would the earth look like that if you’re far enough away?
Sub Teacher: I don’t know. The world is round. I think Mars and Venus are, too.
Since my second grade teacher’s brother was murdered in September, we had a lot of substitute teachers. I didn’t learn anything in school that year, except that being a grown-up didn’t automatically make you smart like my dad.
Engywook, I love that story about the earth being round. It reminds me of the scene from This Is Spinal Tap where Nigel keeps insisting that the amps go to eleven, as if the point is being debated.
In ninth grade I had a health/PE class “taught” by football coaches. Now, normally I’d give them a little slack since teaching is out of their sphere of expertise, but these guys knew less than nothing. One day we were talking about nutrition, and one of the coaches told us that you get molecules from eating plants…like molecules are some sort of vitamin or something.
Not so much a stupid thing as just terribly amusing…
In high school chorus, our director insisted everyone have folders and when you got to class you retrieved your folder. So you show up, get your folder, get to a seat. Once everyone was there we’d start warmups and usually do them standing up.
One day our director said “Stand up! 69 the folders!” We all looked at him totally baffled and gave a collective “huh?!” It then dawned on me what he meant, and I said “you mean 86?” He was properly embarassed. I think class resumed about 5 minutes later.
In high school, I came from an elementary school that was one of the first to experimentally teach sex education - and boy were they thorough!! I knew more about it than my freshman pe teacher who taught the class. :wally
[QUOTE=Mynn]
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Mynn, the link in your signature does not work!
The teacher who was teaching us to be teachers once told us that it was important to have your class running like “clockwork orange.” He had never seen the movie, he just thought it was a neat way to say “running like clockwork”
Wait, you work at Western?
LOL… no, but I wouldn’t put that past them either.
That’s exactly what my high school chorus did, only we didn’t have enough money in the budget for each person to have their own sheet music, so we shared folders among two or three people.
The director had a soft spot for the Lacrimosa from Mozart’s Requiem, and had started making the class train for it three years before I entered as a freshman. It’s a hard piece for a high school chorus, requiring very high notes for all of the ranges - in fact, the tenors and altos were both singing notes that, in every other piece we did, would have been in soprano range, and the poor sopranos were almost inaudible dog-whistles - and he was never quite happy with our performance, so before every concert he’d say “nevermind the Lacrimosa, we’ll practice it some more next semester.”
This went on until I was a senior. It was the last day before the last concert of my senior year, and we were still having trouble with the Lacrimosa. He got up in front of the class all upset because after all this time we still couldn’t hit the high notes properly, and he said “You’ve been practicing this for SEVEN YEARS! You should know it by now!”
… even the people who had been freshman the year he started with us had graduated three years before… apparently he forgot that the students, unlike the teachers, get to LEAVE after a few years!
I am curious to know what you claimed it was. It’s probably the most incorrectly used word on the Internet, at least.
I had a teacher once who thought Labrador was part of Quebec. This might not seema big deal to some of you, but bear in mind this was in a Canadian classroom, and a political map of Canada was posted right there in the class, with Labrador quite clearly colored the same color as Newfoundland.
I had a history teacher in high school who was just really dumb. He’d come in, say “let’s discuss the chapter section we read last night,” and proceed to stand there in silence for two minutes and read that section.
He was also dumb in other areas. He was the coach of the girls’ tennis team. One day, he overheard them talking about oral sex. Now, what do you think the appropriate thing would have been for him to do? I’m guessing you didn’t think for him to say, “You know, girls, it’s always better to give than to receive.” But that’s what he said. And then there was the time one of the girls in the class compained about being cold and he offered to get a blanket out of his car in the creepiest manner possible, alluding to the concept that he kept the blanket in his car for other reasons. retch
I wonder if he still works there. I wonder how I got into college with teachers like that.
I had a teacher when I was in the 8th grade (1964) who believed that nuclear war was impossible because the bombs were too heavy. The two planes that delivered atomic bombs at the end or WWII could barely get off of the ground with them, she opined. Bombs are ever so much bigger now; how can they ever be carried by aircraft.
A quick scenario flashed through my mind: the President picks up the Red Phone and snarls, “Air Force! I’m pissed off at those Russkies. Wipe them from the face of the earth!”
An hour later the phone rings. “Um, Mr. President,” an embarrased Air Force general says. “I’m sorry but every one of our bombers crashed on take-off. Have you considered asking the Navy?”
I opened my mouth to say something, then closed it. She was better off living in her own little world, I thought, a level of wisdom I have rarely achieved since.
DD
Oh geez, how could I have forgotten to include this one? My 9th grade Health class was taught by one of the coaches, Mr. White, who was usually not too bad of a guy. During our unit on STDs, he handed out some notes to the class, which included the fact that “malnutrition is a leading cause of AIDS deaths in Africa.” Fair enough. A few days later, we were given a test, which included a true/false section taken directly from the notes. One question, however, struck me as a bit suspect:
“TRUE or FALSE: Malnutrition is a leading cause of AIDS in Africa.”
The entire class put ‘False’ for this question (yes, the ENTIRE class, and with some of the choice individuals in that group that’s no small feat). Malnutrition does not cause AIDS. However, when we got the test back, every single paper had the answer marked wrong.
Now the question was obviously a misprint, so we figured “no problem, we’ll point it out when we go over the tests, and he’ll realize he fucked up and give us the points back”. Didn’t happen. Despite every single person in the entire fucking class throwing his illogic and stupidity in his face, he refused to admit that the statement on the test was false. His defense? “On this question, I was looking for a specific answer. You did not give that specific answer, therefore you got the question wrong.” Yeah, asshat, you were looking for a specific answer: the wrong one! Even this guy named Desmond, whose intellect required the creation of new metric prefixes to measure the micro-picta-points that comprised his IQ, was telling the teacher that he was a dumbass. And when Desmond is smarter than you, well, my friend, you have a problem for which there is simply no hope.
After categorically refusing to give us the points back, he took up the tests, and (surprise surprise) we never saw them again. Damned good thinking on his part, because the first thing I intended to do upon getting it back was run straight to the principal and show him what this giant among men was teaching us about fairness (and AIDS, for that matter). Not that it would’ve had a big effect on my grade (I think it took me from a 100 to a 99.8), but the principle still stood. What a jackass.
When I was 21, and still a student, I had to move to Wales for a year [my then-husband’s job] so I applied to colleges there to do the final year of my business studies course. We had a compulsory ‘liberal studies’ class every week, and the lecturer was the most un-liberal, racist git.
Myself and an Indian student stood out as being ‘different’ , and he really didn’t like us, so the topic that he chose for discussion every week was usually something to do with the Troubles [then at their height] , or the conflict between India and Pakistan. I really dreaded that class - but the final straw was when the chosen topic was “The Catholics in Northern Ireland should go down south or be shot”. He was actually putting this forward as a solution to the problems in my country, and he really tried to get the other students to turn on me for being Irish!! I quit the course at that point, and completed the course the following year when I was home in Belfast.
I work in a high school for performing arts.
My principal just spent all of last week announcing a concert by one of our graduates, who has been appearing in “The Scarlet Pumpernickel.”
No, I didn’t mis-type that.
It’s a prestigious school that can boast that one of their alumni is Daffy Dumas Duck.
My 9th grade global studies teacher taught us a lot of interesting (read: blatantly false) things, like that the Mississippi River flows north. She also couldn’t spell and got irrationally mad whenever anyone dared to correct her or question the meaning of something she’d written. Including on the tests, which were made way more difficult by her lack of English skill.