Oh, I’m sure she could teach Russian—this was in the mid-1980s, so she had had a Soviet childhood.
Ok, didn’t know why you were pointing that out. Should I assume it was a comment on her ability to teach in general?
I probably expressed myself badly (I posted at the end of a long day). I’ll try again:
The weird thing was that, as a result of a divorce from another teacher on campus, the Spanish teacher suddenly changed her name (well, returned to her original name, then unknown to us) and started teaching an entirely different language in fourth period… though she mostly just treated that as a daily mini-vacation, and taught nothing. This was in a Navy town during the Cold War, so we were quite excited to be able to learn Russian.
Just checked the school’s webpage: I don’t recognize any of the teachers, and though they say “We also have a lot of foreign languages,” they only seem to offer Filipino and Spanish now. (They definitely didn’t offer Filipino then, though a lot of the kids spoke it.)
Wasn’t that bad, I’ve done far worse. I did get the weirdness of the situation, what with the name change too and then not doing a good job with what might be the only language class you or others may have wanted to take. I just overthought your comment. It’s always underthinking or overthinking with me.
Me too.
I must have missed this thread.
My 10th grade English teacher started the term by having us read “The Dirty Word” by ee cummings. We then went on to read all of Wagner’s Ring (this was international literature) which took us a while. Our Greek play was Antigone. We got assigned reports to do. One girl got assigned incest in Sophocles, and he was quite solicitous of her when she gave her report. I got assigned incest in literature in general (Incest Through the Ages) and he cracked jokes while I was giving my report. (Hey, you were nice to her.) I did not know my Tom Lehrer at the time, alas.
At the end of the term we went to a party at his apartment, where he introduced us to Flanders and Swann, so I’ve always been grateful.
My AP history teacher assumed (rightly) that we were more than competent to learn history from reading the excellent text (Morrison and Comager) spent most of class time political discussions (this was 1968) and anecdotes about prohibition agents Izzy and Moe. I think we had one test in 2 years, but we all did fine on the AP test.
I know this is way too late, but those are either mullions or muntins, depending on who you ask.
First grade teacher (who I had a big crush on) sat me on her lap one day and tickled me, then she made fun of my missing teeth when I laughed. The entire class laughed at me. I didn’t laugh or smile in school for years afterward (seriously).
Second grade teacher’s name was Mrs. Washington. Every morning a cognitively impaired classmate named Scotty would shout, “How’s your husband George?” And every morning Mrs. Washington would get visibly steamed and shout back, “Scotty, my husband’s name is not George! Please stop asking me that!”
Middle School shop teacher made students make up a song on the spot about whatever question they got wrong when called on, then sing the song in front of the class. One day I had to sing about 10 penny nails. Worst punishment ever.
Middle School German teacher used to make unruly students sit on a high-chair in the front corner of class and sing, “ding ding the bell for mental health”, then “klingel klingel für psychische gesundheit” every five minutes by the clock. He also regularly walked into our very shy, attractive English teacher’s classroom and flirted with her mercilessly, making her noticeably sweat in front of her students. That wouldn’t fly these days, thank goodness.
H.S. AP Biology teacher always referred to viruses, bacteria and protozoa as “these little animacules.”
H.S. AP physics teacher named Mr. Bates encouraged students to call him “master Bates.” Every year he took the class outside and drag raced his Corvette in the parking lot to demonstrate acceleration (and no doubt impress students with his wheels). He also ok’ed my request to make a time-lapse 8mm film for my physics project. He said, “just make it funny.” So, I made a soft-porn film featuring Barbi and GI Joe. He loved it and gave me an A under the condition I let him keep the film. I learned years later that he showed the film to each new class and told them, “this is how you get an A in my class.”
Pharmacognosy professor used to toke with students at parties. He always brought good weed.
Pathophysiology professor named G. Robert [Surname] told every incoming class, “the G stands for God and that’s how you will address me.” Brilliant teacher, but a real prick.
In 9th grade English almost nobody read the assigned reading (I believe it was a Chapter in the book The Right Stuff) so the teacher PISSED off at us made us all stand outside the classroom for 10 minutes (all 25 of us) while the two who DID read the assignment got to stay in the class. After 10 minutes she let us back in.
To this day I wonder what the hell she said to those two. It can’t possibly have just been her doing the standard discussion right? With just 2 people?
Oh, that reminded me of a favorite Sunday School teacher, who was also our cabin’s counselor for Summer Camp. We were supposed to have “quiet time” in our bunks for an hour after lunch. But instead, he pulled out this enormous reel-to-reel tape recorder from his second suitcase, and played Beyond The Fringe for us.
(That’s their entire West End show from the mid-60s… but do make sure you listen to the second sketch: The Royal Box. Peter Cook and Dudley Moore playing off each other brilliantly… oh, looks like you can find their albums on archive.org)
This is the funniest thing I’ve read in quite a while.
Did you sing Opera?
As Jim Wright says, if you want a better government, you need to be a better person
My maths teacher was eccentric and distractable. He would sometimes receive a visit during class from one of the other teachers, who would ask to borrow supplies. He would set the class a problem to keep them busy, then they would both walk into the store cupboard. A minute or two later, they would emerge, reeking of alcohol.
He was a great storyteller if you could divert him into an anecdote of any kind, and many a lesson was completely wasted in this way. One of his favourite topics was the boat he was building in his back garden, and this would sometimes crop up in the context of geometry - where he would discuss how he had calculated that when the boat was complete, he would have just enough space to manoeuvre it down the driveway at the side of the house - the driveway had a right angle turn in it, bordered by high brick walls, so this was all very crucual.
One day, after hearing about the boat, and the boat extrication plans many times, he stopped talking about it. We learned from one of the pupils who lived near him that he had to hire a crane to lift the boat over the top of the house.
I remember my first year university physics teacher. Not a bad dude, but could get frustrated by students who could not follow his logic. He tried to get me to change my major to physics.
Near the end of one of the classes, he sweetly told the class it was important to ask questions, and this was a sign of intelligence and not stupidity, and even the smartest people have to ask for help sometimes. He used his most dulcet and diplomatic voice.
I can’t remember the exact question he was asked. But I remember his answer. He kind of turned red in the face, and yelled “Well, maybe if it was a stealth truck!!”, getting quite angry for little reason, and losing his composure completely. The question must have been about using reflected waves to identify a bomber but exactly how that fit into the context of what we were studying, and it did (because I could remember the question for a few years), I could not say.
So what, you guys weren’t advanced enough for 3D geometry?
I had a very pronounced stutter. I had had years of speech therapy to just get me to say short sentences, or get help. I signed alot. So I could sorta communicate.
My highschool required one speech or drama class to graduate.
I had to take the class.
So… Mr Temple put me on the debate team.
I never ever said anything at regional debates between highschools.
One judge saw me signing afterwards to my friends. He ask me, “Why the heck are you on this team”?
I just shook my head.
I had no clue why that man put me there.
But, I aced the class, and graduated.
Mr. Temple was apparently a classicist - many famous debaters and public speakers were stutters (Demosthenes is traditionally described as having a serious stammer).
Unfortunately that doesn’t mean that all any stutterer needs is a debate class - but Mr. Temple wouldn’t be the first person to think that.
Only weird by todays standards. In 3rd grade (circa 1969) my class was making pies for Thanksgiving. We needed more ingredients. The teacher picked out 5 students, including me, had a teachers aid watch the rest of the class, and drove us in her personal car 5 miles away to the grocery store. No permission slips or anything like that.
When he was in the 8th grade my brothers shop teacher had a man come in and start talking to them about Jesus, heaven and hell, how they’re living their lives, etc… And the guy was real obnoxious about how he absolutely knew he was going to heaven and quite certain most of those in the class would not be. This was a public school.
I bet the pebble trick would work better than simply being on a debate team.
My sixth grade teacher had an affair with my mother. His wife got very upset, his daughter attempted suicide, and some of the other parents schemed to get him ousted as a result. People spied on our house through the woods and made scary anonymous harassment calls to us kids when they were out together, telling us what they could see happening at our house. It went on for years.
But I liked his class…