What “not really a big deal” thing happened to you in school that would send parents to the media today?
For example, I remember when I was in the second grade a lunchroom monitor was taking us outside for recess. For some reason, the monitor thought I was swearing up a storm and yelled at me. He then told to go back to the cafeteria and sit at the detention table. The monitor never told my teacher where I was, nor did he tell any of the other monitors what I was doing there. I ended up sitting at the detention table for almost two hours. Eventually, another monitor realized I’d been sitting there for a long time and told me to go back to class.
It sucked at the time, but it wasn’t really a big deal and I don’t think I ever even told my parents.
Today, some parents might absolutely flip their shit that their kid was basically “missing” for two hours and my teacher had no idea why I never came back from lunch (and never asked anyone what happened to me).
When I was in high school, I dated a long-term substitute teacher. He was 23 and I was 16. Our eyes met from across the room, I kid you not, and after a few weeks of flirting, he asked me out. We dated for a bit and then another teacher found out and made him end it.
FTR, we didn’t sleep together, we just did the same things I did with my other high-school age dates – drive around, see movies, and make out. The only thing odd about it was that we made sure we weren’t seen holding hands, etc, in public.
Today, he’d be fired, labeled as a sex offendor and I’d have Gloria Allred calling me, ready to defend my honor and line my pockets.
In nursery school I used to love building block buildings as tall as I was. One day the class troublemaker knocked over my building.
So I punched him in the mouth.
Not only did I not get in trouble (he did), but nobody ever told my parents about it (they found out about it from a classmate’s parent).
I’ve told mine before, but: When I was in ninth grade drama class, two guys wearing camouflage and carrying guns suddenly busted into our classroom and started screaming at everyone to get down on the floor. We did, of course; most of us were just perplexed and wondering what was going to happen next, but one girl totally lost her head, crying and asking the teacher to save her. At that point the teacher laughed and introduced the gunmen as two of her former students who were going to help us with the concept of improv. Looking back, I’m surprised this was allowed to happen even then (1984).
Paddled for the crime of being late to class 3x in a semester. In 11th grade. Made to drop my drawers to underwear, and received 10 ‘licks’ with a hole-drilled paddle. I had welts for a week. Yes, I went to a backwards sick fuck redneck school. Yes, the guy who gave the licks was later in trouble for child molestation. Mom and dad, while usually right for taking the teachers side, were very wrong their reaction to this- “you must have done **something **to deserve it”
There’s no way in heck they’d allow some of the two-a-day football workouts that lasted for hours on end in the Texas heat w/o any water whatsoever to go on. Same probably with some of the hitting drills. Many were full speed helmet to helmet, exactly what they’re trying to avoid now.
In fifth grade (1981) my school bus route made a loop and I was at the very end of the route. The route took about 45 minutes which sucked. I talked the school bus driver into letting me off the bus near the beginning of the route and I would walk the extra 1/4 mile.
Parents would probably freak today if an 11 year old was able to tell a bus driver where he wanted off.
In Grade 5 the teacher called on me to answer a question. I was a very shy and quiet child and very uncomfortable speaking in class. I guess I was speaking too quietly because the teacher made me go into the back cloakroom, shut the door and yell until the kids at the front could hear me. It was mortifying - the teacher going “Can you hear her, class?” and the kids going “Nooooo.” Finally I worked up the nerve to yell and she let me go back to my seat. I rarely participated in class after that. Of course I didn’t tell my parents because back then “what happened at school stayed at school”.
When we were bored during assemblies or school plays, we would sit in the back of the auditorium and pick the asbestos insulation off the heating pipes. We would also break thermometers and chase the pretty mercury around on the floor, but I don’t think that was authorized by the school even then.
One of my 7th-grade teachers had an indoor swimming pool, and once a year he had a pool party for his students. The year I went, one of my classmates slipped on the deck, hit his head and needed stitches.
There were no outraged parents, no lawsuits against the school or the teacher, no nothing that I’m aware of. The kid got his stitches and was fine.
I imagine today the teacher, principal, superintendant and seven janitors would be forced to resign in disgrace.
In Grade School (70s) when I was feeling sick I’d go tell the nurse and she’d send me home. As in, let me leave to go walk home after I said no one would pick me up. Mom would come home later and see me at home, shrug, and assume I was sent home sick.
So many reasons why that would never happen today.
Hey, I did this all the way through middle school (1998-2001). The “official” bus stop was at the top of a hill. My house was about three blocks away down the hill. The bus left the neighborhood that way anyway. So every day for three years, the driver dropped me off at that corner on her way out. There was a stop sign there anyway, so I don’t know what the county’s objection to having a real bus stop there was, but whatever. One day I actually convinced a substitute bus driver to take me right up to my driveway.
Of course, this bus driver was insane anyway. She routinely sped, passed illegally, etc. She was always at the front of the line picking us up at school and if you were even 5 seconds late getting on at 2:45 (school let out at 2:40), tough, she’d drive off with you sprinting and waving. She also allowed us to stand up and walk around while the bus was moving. About the only time I ever saw her get mad was when somebody threw a sandwich out the window and it hit the windshield of a car in the opposite lane.
When I was about 7 or 8 years old, my teacher sometimes asked me to go to a nearby petrol (gas) station to buy her cigarettes. That involved crossing a road.
When I was in high school (graduated in 2000), one of the “big things” in the fall was what we affectionately called the “physics war.”
Sometime in September, everyone in the physics classes would pair off and build “guns” out of scrap wood, PVC pipe, and elastic and bungee cords to shot tennis balls. For a week or two, you’d take them out to a football field and launch them at various angles and measure how far they went, as a fun way to teach us about projectile motion.
Then, after that was all over, we’d have half a day where everyone would get arranged into little “countries” on the old soccer field, tennis balls were distributed, and we’d shoot them at each other. All that was required was eye protection. The official goal was to knock over empty paint cans in someone else’s country…when all your paint cans were gone, you were out. But most people just aimed directly for your face. You’d be surprised how fast those guns could get those balls going, and how much they hurt.
There would generally be one broken nose per year, yet it went on for several years before I was in high school, and a couple years after I left…the last that I heard of it, which was circa 2003, they shot Jell-O at each other instead of tennis balls…I’m guessing by now they don’t even do that.
High school in the mid-1980s, one of my history teachers who was ex-military (and I am firmly convinced had probably also done prison or at least long term jail time somewhere), would as a reward for good behavior, teach the class some of what he called life skills. Most of them involved inflicting harm or death on another person though we did learn about animal snares and distilling alcohol. I shall always cherish the knowledge of how to make a Molotov cocktail with a tampon.
When I was in preschool, a little girl hit me during play time outside. One of the teachers stood her against the wall and told me to hit her back. I refused. Even at three years old, I had more moral sense than this lady!
Another time I had my mouth washed out with soap for saying the dreaded curse word “stupid.”
I didn’t tell my parents about either of these incidents until I was in high school.
We went on school trips within the state for Orchestra. Coming home at night I had the driver drop me off on the main road in front of my subdivision. A ten minute walk and I was home. Did this starting at ages 14 through 17 when I graduated.
I’m sure today they’d insist that all kids return to school and get picked up by a parent. There’s probably a list of who can pick up the kid.
When I was in second grade, the teacher wouldn’t let us eat lunch until all our morning assignments were finished. I was very meticulous about everything, especially doing any kind of art work, so I never got to eat my lunch in school. I ate it on the bus, on the way home. I don’t think this would be allowed today.
In high school, we had to swim naked (just the boys).
