My boss used to be a teacher in IT at university. He had the weirdest quirk for a teacher — at least compared to my own student experience.

During any written (noted) assignment, students were allowed to ask him any question they wanted, and he would answer them legitimately and correctly. In exchange, he would dock an amount of points depending on the importance of the answer.

His reason: in IT, when you are locked, you pay for a consultant. So, in order to prepare his students for real life, he applied the same principle.

I had a similar interaction to the one in this story with my senior-year English teacher. She hated me. She once pulled me aside after class to accuse me of doodling the entire time. We were reading “Hamlet” at the time, and even though her interpretations of everything were always way off, I knew that if my answers didn’t match hers, I’d be “wrong”. So, I made a point of taking copious notes that day.

This was in 2000 or 2001, so the days of black notebook paper, which I was using. She couldn’t read it, but she could tell she’d been wrong, and she looked like I’d made her eat s***. She very grudgingly let me off with:

Teacher: “Well… as long as you can read it.”

Me: *Happily* “I can!”

And I mentally flipped her off on my way out the door.

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I work as a lecturer for an educational institution with branches all over the country. My branch is regarded as the finest in the whole organization, and this story is about the time I realized why.

Around five years after I started working there, the board of directors of our organization decided to gather all the lecturers at a conference hotel. The idea was to exchange experiences and generally have a nice time with our colleagues.

We were organized into groups based on subjects. All lecturers from different schools who taught the same subjects would be in the same groups. The day’s program would be decided by different groups: the program for [subject #1] lecturers would be set up by [City #1 School], the program for the [subject #2] lecturers would be set up by [City #2 School], etc.

My school happened to be responsible for setting up the program for my subject. We did some planning before the conference and decided that it would be a good idea to share experiences and resources and generally converse about how we went about doing our jobs. Our colleagues from the other cities thought so, too; we spent the day discussing all sorts of case studies and methods, generally learning a lot from each other.

During these talks, I realized the first reason why my branch is the best in the organization. We were discussing our methods when I showed one of my junior colleagues from another school some resources I had on my laptop. You know the sort of thing: PowerPoint presentations, written documents, spreadsheets, etc. She leaned in and studied my stuff eagerly, eventually muttering:

Colleague #1: “I don’t have anything like that.”

Me: “Well, they’re fairly easy to make, but the reason I have so much of this is that I’ve worked on it for five years.”

Colleague #1: “Well, I just started this fall, so I’ve only been working here for five months. It’s my first job, so…”

Me: “Do you want some of this?”

She looked at me, surprised.

Colleague #1: “Really?”

Me: “Uh… yeah? It’s not secret or anything.”

Colleague #1: “I can just… have it?”

Me: “Sure. What are you interested in?”

Colleague #1: “Well… all of it, but…”

Me: “Okay, I’ll set up a shared link for you. Hang on.”

I collected pretty much everything I had made for work over the past five years — PowerPoint presentations, syllabuses, and timetables; tests and evaluation criteria; collections of suitable literature complete with specific page numbers so they could easily be matched with subjects; lists of links to relevant web articles — a whole bunch of useful stuff.

Colleague #1: “Wow, this is great! This could save me a bunch of time. And it’s okay if I just reuse this?”

Me: “Sure, I don’t see why not.”

Colleague #1: “It’s just that we’re not really used to sharing resources like this. I’ve found some stuff online, but…”

Me: “Hold up. Hang on… You don’t share your ideas with the other lecturers? Why not?”

Colleague #1: “Well, it… Huh. I guess it just never really occurred to us.”

I looked around the table at the other people who taught the same subject as me. They seemed equally perplexed.

Me: “Do none of you share resources? Plans, timetables, lecture presentations, notes…?”

Colleague #2: “Hm… Not really, no…”

Colleague #3: “I guess we do sometimes… but no, we mostly just build our own stuff from the bottom up.”

Me: “Well, feel free to use my stuff. You can make changes, too, if you need to. There’s no copyright on this.”

Colleague #1: “This is awesome!”

It turned out that our branch had developed a culture for sharing information and discussing things freely while the other institutions had much less interaction between their lecturers. To me, the free exchange of ideas has always felt like a very natural thing (especially given that we are, you know, a freakin’ school), and my managers encourage it. My coworkers and I borrow stuff from each other all the time. Apparently, this wasn’t common practice everywhere in the organization.

After the conference, we heard that the other branches also seemed to have a completely different idea of what this kind of conference was about. One subject group decided to spend the day watching a stand-up comedian they had hired. A different group spent most of their time chatting and lunching. For them, this was a social event. The whole day was just spent hanging around in a hotel, socializing. In fairness, the people who attended did say that it was very nice, but it wasn’t exactly useful to their actual jobs.

I hear things are a bit better at the other branches now, some ten years later, but the board of directors still considers my workplace the “cherry on the cake”.

I work as a tech support guy in an elementary school. One day, I was asked by an older female teacher (probably fifty-five or older) why her projector wasn’t working and if I could come take a look.

I arrived and found that it wasn’t even plugged in.

Me: “Where is the plug?”

Teacher: “I don’t have it.”

Me: “Oh, that’s okay. I can probably get you a new plug, but I need to find one. I’ll be back in about ten minutes.”

But she wasn’t having any of it. She insisted that I make the projector work wirelessly and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Me: “That simply isn’t possible. Wireless electricity hasn’t been invented yet.”

She refused to listen. Then, she took out her phone.

Teacher: “If my phone can connect to the Wi-Fi wirelessly, why can’t the projector?”

I had to explain that Wi-Fi and electricity are different things, but she became angry and started threatening to report me to the principal.

I tried to remain calm and explained the situation to her again, but she refused to listen and accused me of being incompetent.

Eventually, I had to leave the classroom without solving her problem. It was a frustrating experience, but sometimes there’s just no way to make things work the way people want them to.

I later spoke to the principal and explained the situation to her, and luckily, she understood that the teacher’s request was unreasonable.

As a teacher myself, I am still somewhat flabbergasted about some events that took place when I was in high school. I previously wrote this story about some of it. That day with the surgery and the exam was actually even more infuriating as I had a run-in with the PE teacher who threatened to flunk me for missing class that morning, and only that morning.

The fact that I showed her papers from the surgery that proved that I was in the hospital didn’t matter; I had to participate in swim class the following month to be sure to not flunk. I showed her the papers stating that I was forbidden from swimming for two months following the surgery (inner ear), and she began hurling insults at me like I had PLANNED to have my eardrum collapse. In that case, I knew that she had zero grounds to flunk me as I had all the medical papers in order.

When I wasn’t on heavy medication, I did my best to get some training in, mostly biking to and from school. (I am spoiled enough to come from the town with the best bike lane coverage in my country.) My high school was in the neighbouring town, 15 km from home, so I biked 150 km per week.

My darling PE teacher accosted me whilst I was on my way to PE class. (I always biked in the PE clothes when we began the day with PE as it saved me a couple of minutes, and my regular clothes didn’t get sweaty that way.) She began berating me for being chubby and lazy and “never, ever do anything active”.

I was holding my bike, and I pointed out to her that I had biked from [Hometown] just like I did every day. Apparently, biking 150 km a week didn’t count. Huh. Who knew? I mean, cycling is an Olympic Sport and everything, but it wasn’t good enough for her.

In PE, we had some things we did in Year 1 that counted toward our final grade, and ditto for Year 2. Our classy PE teacher took all her notes about what we had achieved and had a bonfire, which made it almost impossible for us to get our final grades. In my case, it didn’t matter much as I have zero talent for PE, but it was quite nerve-wracking for my more athletically inclined classmates.

She was equally thrilled the following year when I was on antibiotics for eight months, constantly changing to stronger doses, and forbidden to participate in regular PE during my ailment. Instead, I was doing workouts. Again, I had orders from the doctor, but she was not happy.

She retired before our final year, and our next PE teacher was amazing.

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