Third grade. Our teacher was an old, old woman who was blind as a bat. She had the Coke bottle bottom glasses and still couldn’t see. It was considered great fun to grab chalk off the blackboard, draw a three inch long line next to her desk and put the chalk back. She would walk in, see the blur and spend a minute trying to pick up a piece of chalk that wasn’t there.
My senior year in high school, someone snuck several plastic bags full of dog poo into the library and hid them behind book stacks. It took days to get the stink out.
My high school music teacher sat down at her piano and felt a sharp pain. It seemed someone had pranked her by putting a tack on her seat. She didn’t want to let on that it worked so she said nothing, but it was hard to hide her growing pain and anger, so the otherwise normal lesson was laced with a bitter tone and occasional sniping. Finally class ended and she headed to the bathroom, only to discover that the sharp object was inside her pantyhose and so merely some accidental laundry mix up rather than a student prank.
I worked for several years as a substitute in a small (650 student) high school. One day, as the students were working on their assignment, I got up to answer a knock on the door. After that was taken care of, the silence was broken by a student saying “Dang, Mrs. Mistress, you’ve got a hell of a rack.” The class dissolved with laughter and the student went to the office for the rest of the class. I pulled myself together, and stood up straight for the rest of the class.
The other one was when I was in school. Our 7th grade science was not particularly effeminate, but he was not particularly macho either. He was known to be single, in his 40s and living with his mother (it was a small town .) (Names have been changed )One day, out of the blue a boy in the class blurted out “Mr. Smith, have you ever fingered a girl?” The class erupted. Even those who didn’t understand the question entirely yet went to pieces laughing and whooping. The student who asked the question went to the office and suffered some consequences, but the story passed into legend.
In my high school, during the last week of classes (which was termed “Senior Week”) the school did a “Senior Slave Day.” This allowed each senior to have a freshman follow them around all day and do whatever the senior told them to. It has since been done away with, due to concerns about political correctness and its resemblance to hazing. It was all voluntary and in good fun, but in retrospect I agree that the name of the event was inappropriate. We only had two black students in the whole school at the time, but the black population was increasing. I think that was the biggest reason they canned it.
Anyway, my senior was my band section leader. I did the “I’m a Little Teapot” dance in front of an entire AP Chemistry class, while wearing a band uniform (complete with hat and plume, although we called the plume a chicken). Fun times!
Also, that week a group of seniors graffitied the outside of the school with white spray paint for their senior prank (SENIOR’S RULE!). I think my freshman English teacher was more appalled by the apostrophe than the property damage.
My high school was really boring compared to some of these hilarious stories. The best we could manage was putting the band director’s car on the roof of the school using a crane that was there for construction on the new gym. We disabled it by removing the rotor in the distributor the day before, so the band director had to call his wife to get home that day.
In my English class, we were assigned to read some story, and discuss it the next day. Basically, It’s full of innuendo about two people having sex.
One of my classmates was ALWAYS getting these things wrong…so he started the discussion, and suggested that the main characters were playing backgammon.
But this time, we all backed him up. We found all kinds of strange quotes in the story to back us up…“He was about to make his move”…stuff like that.
At the maritime academy when I went there three were three classes. As a 3rd Class Midshipman you never spoke to a 1st classman unless he asked you a question or was giving you an order. The 2nd Classmen usually dealt with the 3rd class.
There was a tradition if the underclass men moved the anchor at the formation grounds the 2nd class would loose their upperclass rights until it was returned. The thing weighed a few tons.
We planed to attempt to move it one night. The meet time was set for 2:00 AM. Not sure who did what but When I got out of the res hall all hell broke loose and the 2nd class were up and waiting for us. I was a little late getting up so I managed to get out of the hall and before I got to the formation area everyone else had been rounded back up. There were two other 3rd class that also got missed. We waited around for a little while not sure what to do. Keeping out of sight we ended up by the construction yard of the academy. We noticed two round balls about 6 feet in diameter.
We rolled those balls out to the formation area. Using masking tape we wrote on one of them 2nd class have no balls! On the other one “Shellbacks beware Pollywogs revolt”. (Shellbacks= those who have crossed the equator, Pollywogs those who have not). There was some discussion about if it would make the `1st class mad, but what the heck.
The mess hall was right next to the formation area. As a 3rd Class Midshipman you had sit at a table with an upper classman and had to ask a 2nd Classman for his permission to sit and eat at his table. The questions that were ask that morning were kinda funny. Did you know about the events last night? And when answered no then bring me a report chit for failure to get the word. Followed by no you can not sit at my table. Had to go to another tabel and go through it again until finally one of the upper classmen would finally give permission to sit and eat, but you have to eat a square meal (eating at attention moving your fork in vertical and horzontal movements, head up looking straight out).
After breakfast the corps had to form up in the formation area for the days anouncements. WE formed up by division and class. Normally we would be dismissed to go to classes by class, 1st class first, then 2nd and finally 3rd. That morning we were called to attention, 1st class were dismissed. Then the 3rd class were dismissed while the 2nd class had to stand at attention while we walked away. When you are an under classman it is the little things that mean a lot.
I had a math teacher who was a chaperone on our trip to Washington, D.C. Another student pointed to an empty display case at the Smithsonian and convinced the teacher that it was an amazingly clear diamond. And the teacher believed him. The Emperor’s New Diamond!
As a substitute teacher, I had a first grader draw me a picture one December. When the child tried to caption it, she wrote Rudolph the Red Nose Rayndeer (which she crossed off) Raindeer (likewise) Reendeer (another line through it). Finally, she crossed off the beast’s antlers and wrote, Rudolph the Red Nose Dog.
My first year in junior high, we moved onto a new campus. It was a series of connected, modular buildings. The classrooms were windowed on all but one side, and the floor was… well… for want of a better word, bouncy.
One day we had an evil substitute. One person started to bounce his leg rapidly, the girl next to him joined in, in a couple minutes we were all bouncing. It felt like an earthquake.
The teacher ran out of the room, noted no one else was having an earthquake and returned. Still bouncing. She couldn’t figure out how we were doing it. She started to yell, then scream. Finally the vice principal came in to see what was wrong. We stopped as he stepped over the threshold. She started yelling at him that we were “doing something.”
He escorted her out. We never saw her again.
Of course, it didn’t turn out that well for us. He proctored the rest of the class and the rest of the week.
Back in the 70’s my high school had a flat roof. My brother’s friend somehow got his bike up on the roof and rode it around. The principal was in the courtyard screaming at him to get down. That principal was one big scary guy, making the feat all that more impressive!
I could write a book about my son’s antics. Once he took revenge on a teacher who had given him a detention (that he didn’t think he had earned) by drawing a lewd picture of said teacher and had copies of it printed off on all the computer lab’s printers. Since the teacher was so disliked by students, my son was labeled a hero by them. Not so much by me. At graduation, when he was up on the stage, he turned and waved to the crowd and put his finger by his nose, and to this day, does not have procession of his diploma. Sigh.
Fortunately, my daughter was a goody-two-shoes in high school.
One time a boy rode his unicycle down the main hall of our junior high school. Smiling and waving at his friends, he didn’t even notice that the school disciplinarian was standing at the end of the hall…
I’ve always regretted not staying to see what happened. (Sadly, I had a test in my next class and didn’t dare risk being late.)
He rotated his finger next to his nose but denies that it was meant to signify a finger in the nose. He claims that it wasn’t meant in disrespect, just being a goof ball. I wanted to strangle him!
