Unfiltered Story #294071

The teacher who detroyed the smart board reminds me of my sixth grade teacher. He’d throw temper tantrums at least 3 times a week. He never broke any big ticket tech, but only because this was the mid 80s and it wasn’t around back then.

He wore cowboy boots and liked to kick the classroom door. It had several dents by the end of the year. He threw a spelling book at one boy. He ducked and it hit the girl next to him. He had a student desk at the front of the classroom that he liked to put his stuff on. When he had one of his hissy fits, he’d start by taking his arm and sweeping everything onto the floor. Books, paper, pens, full cups of coffee. The carpet was stained by October.

Other teachers heard what was happening and did nothing. If he was screaming at us then we must’ve done something to deserve it.

Mom tried to get me out of that class. But all the classes were overcrowded. I would have to have been traded with another student. And the school didn’t want to do that.

I was a quiet kid who didn’t get in trouble. I was told that as long as he wasn’t screaming at me, I would be fine.

One time he locked me out of the classroom. I’d gone to use the restroom and apparently he thought I’d taken too long. As an adult, I realize I should’ve gone to the office. I’m sure a locked door and an unsupervised child violates several safety rules. But I had basically been told to keep quiet and stay out of trouble. So I sat by the door a good 20 minutes before he let me in.

The one thing that saved my sanity was that they started switching us for certain classes. It started with just P.E. The girls would go with the 2 female teachers and the boys went with the 3 male teachers. Then they added math and English class. I got to spend a good part of the morning with someone who could manage a classroom without blowing up at the drop of a hat.

He used the stereotypical abuser’s language; blaming us for his meltdowns. One day we would be grateful for the way he treated us. He wasn’t going to follow us around for the rest of our years in school to make sure we were acting right. And more nonsense of that nature.

No. The only thing I was grateful for was that after I survived that year, I’d never have to see him again.

I came back for 7th grade and I’ll be darned, they bumped him up to 7th grade teacher. I couldn’t avoid him. He was the only teacher teaching that subject.

But at least I only had to see him for 45 minutes a day. So, yay?