I used to be a somewhat enthusiastic child; almost eager sometimes.
There are several little incidents in my upbringing that may be contributing factors to my muted ability to emote, and this is one of the ones that’s sort of stuck out to me. It’s just sort of a… What? Huh? story.
It came to pass that I was once in the second grade. The second grade teacher was a slightly curmudgeonly lady. One day, she apparently wanted some volunteers for something - I don’t even know if we ever found out what it was. What I do remember clearly is that no sooner than she said ‘Who’d like to…’, the entire class eagerly raised their hands in the air, bouncing as 7-8 year olds are wont to do.
An expression of annoyance crossed her features, and she finished her sentence with ‘… get a paddling.’ Now, in all fairness, I don’t remember if she actually spanked anybody. Nevertheless, I learned two important lessons. Never volunteer, and never show enthusiasm.
I’ve always wondered why people who obviously don’t like children choose to become elementary school teachers.
I remember a teacher who was in charge of the playground activities during recess. Her favorite phrase of disparagement was “Don’t be childish.” Well, phooey. I was eight years old. If you can’t be childish on a playground when you’re eight years old, when can you be childish?
Apparently I had a rather nasal ‘accent’ when pronouncing words with a short ‘a’. Mrs. Gordon, my 3rd grade teacher, ridiculed me (yes, she actually mocked me) in front of the whole class as we were entering the room.
I don’t remember the teacher who was involved, but… We were doing some elementary-school ‘science’. We were told that pores allowed sweat to get out of our skin. Could we see our pores? I could see mine, but I didn’t want to sound like a know-it-all so I said no. "What, are you blind? Can’t you see them?’
Mrs. Gordon again. She was reading a story about a fox to the class. She said that the fox came to a road and there were ‘two firey suns’ coming at him. ‘Okay, class, what are the two firey suns?’ No one knew the answer. After a couple of minutes of prodding she said, ‘They’re headlights on a car! Are you all stupid?’ I very nearly retorted, ‘We’re eight years old. We don’t drive cars.’ I thought better of it and kept my mouth shut. I wish I had said what was on my mind.
Since then I have ‘worked on my diction’ – to the point where even today, some people think I have some sort of an accent. I’ve decided to be a ‘know-it-all’ if I know the correct answer. Screw my classmates (or whoever) if I know something they don’t. And I’ll speak my mind in my own defence.
And don’t get me started on ‘love’. I’ve learned my lesson!
So are we revisiting childhood memories or complaining about our lack of emotion?
I have plenty of emotion, too damn much of it, which is kinda weird since my mom is a cold fish. Er…if she wasn’t my mom, I might be inclined to call her frigid, in every aspect of her life. You know.
As for school issues, I’ve been paddled once. Honest to god, and I was only born in '75. I was 10 years old, and I had a Really Mean teacher - horrible. Anyway, I used to get 'A’s in everything but handwriting, and I got a ‘D’ in my handwriting test. :rolleyes: So I was supposed to bring it home and have my mom & dad sign it, but I was also a forgetful child and forgot for two days in a row.
That bitch gave me detention, which was bad enough for a sensitive kid like me, but then she took me in the other room and paddled me. Me! 10 whacks with a wooden paddle with holes in it…obviously I’ve never forgotten it.
She was so bad that all the parents got up a petition and she resigned at the end of the year.
My parents always used to tell us the story on the first paragraph of this page as an example of how we should comport ourselves when we were in pain or suffering emotionally. Very comforting, that was.
I’ve told people about that and watched them have vapours at how repressive my parents were, which amuses me to no end. My parents also told us about the custom of exposing babies on the hillside to see if they’re hardy enough, and let us read all the grim and ghastly cautionary tales we could get our hands on, and I’m surprisingly well-adjusted and able to emote in spite of that.
Vividly remembering the time when I burst into tears in front of the entire class and shut myself in one of the cubby lockers–still in front of everyone–sobbing and refusing to come out, I would probably have to say I had a little too much emotion back then.
i have always been introverted and unemotional. I can’t pinpoint any reasons.
I did once get an award for hitting a schoolmate when I was about 9 years old. My teachers had worried that I wasn’t assertive enough. One day some kid came up behind me and kicked me, so I started belting him around the head with my fists until he cried.
He got told off, I got a certificate for being “assertive”!
Just to show that these one off incidents don’t always have a huge effect, I didn’t make a habbit of beating up my schoolmates or anyone else.
One of the first indications I had that some teachers weren’t as smart as me came in 6th grade.
The teacher asked “do muscles contract or expand?”
No one knew. I raised my hand.
“They, contract, miss.”
“NO! Don’t be fooled into thinking muscles contract. They EXPAND!”
Alright I thinks. You’re wrong, but whatever.
Six months pass. For some reason the same topic came up and the same question was asked.
The teacher asked “do muscles contract or expand?”
This time everyone knew, but no one put up their hand. They all looked at me. They remembered, and now it was time for me to have another crack.
“They, expand, miss.”
“NO! Don’t be fooled into thinking muscles expand. They CONTRACT!”
The class erupts. 29 Students all argue and exclaim loudly how last time, blah blah blah…
All I remember is the noise in the room disappearing, like the volume control was being turned down. My brain was literally switching all that crap out. I could almost feel the last drop of respect I had for teachers draining out my ears. From then on anything a teacher told me was viewed with a jaundiced eye, until I had it confirm. What a cold, cynical little bastard I turned into.
Do you mean mine? She was probably teaching children to earn a living. I always thought teaching children was more like a vocation or a calling.
To clarify, I don’t think she asked the question to see if anyone knew the answer, but so she could tell someone they were wrong, no matter how they answered.
Speaking as someone who used to want to be a teacher, it’s not necessarily that people who don’t like children choose to be teachers, it’s that people who like children just fine work with children long enough to get really, really tired of the little creeps.
If you’d been better at handwriting, you could’ve forged the signatures!
But seriously - this could be a bad teachers thread, or an inability-to-emote thread, whatever. I suppose I have more stories if it goes to ‘bad teachers’ though.
Not exactly a teacher, but I remember the time my housemother at my boarding school was carrying an approximately nine year old **lizardling **back to the dorm, in full hysterics. I’m not sure exactly why, could have been one of the times I sprained my ankle. (I had a weak left ankle in those days)
But I do clearly recall her setting me down hard and telling me, “STOP CRYING!” Looking back, I can understand that she probably didn’t want a hysterical, leather-lunged kid howling in her ear one more second, but at the time, it was a bit of a turn.
However, it did have the result that I’ve very rarely, if ever, cried since. Maybe I’ll get choked up, and maybe if it’s a really bad situation, one or two tears, but that’s it.
IYAM(AIKND),* it’s oversocialized, overstrict adults who have been taught, or taught themselves, that the innocence and carefree nature of childhood is something we must all be broken of, in order to turn us into hard, Spartan adults who will assume their proper function as parts of the social, corporate, or military machine.
I would think you would learn to never volunteer until you know what you’re getting into.
Seriously, this incident keeps you from volunteering and showing enthusiasm? How about, kids just have more energy and you’re not a kid any more.
Now my first grade teacher ruined my creativity and that’s why I haven’t won an Oscar.
