Unfiltered Story #90285

(My middle school math teacher seemed to have had a severe problem with me, and had no problem showing it. My learning disability would at times effect my work, which she didn’t like, and if I came to see her during her after school tutoring sessions that she held for any student needing extra help, she’d rail on me for not understanding the work and quickly lose her patience and refuse to help, telling me I was wasting time the other students in the tutoring session needed. All the while going easier and even coddling students who did even less work or were even disruptive in class. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem to contain her dislike for me to my academic performance.

In her class, desks were set up in quads pretty close together, meaning if you were sitting at the side of the ‘square’ directly back to back to someone sitting at the square right next to yours, it was hard to get out of your seat unless the other person scooted their chair closer to their desk to let you out. I should also note that at I’ve never exactly been thin).

Teacher: [My name]! Come hand out these worksheets!

Me: (I attempted to get up only to see the classmate “behind” me had his seat pushed out so I couldn’t get up) [Classmate] Could you move your chair in, please?

Classmate: (moves his seat in barely an inch, not enough to let me get up, moves it back, and laughs)

Teacher: [My name]! I told you to get up! Now!

Me: There’s not enough room….

Teacher: Stop slacking off!

Me: (I try again to get the classmate to move his chair, but he ignores me. I’m getting more and more upset since she’s continuing to yell at me in front of the class, even though all this is going on in front of her eyes. The deskmate right across from me tries to help by pulling her desk back so I can push my desk forward to make room, only to be yelled at by the teacher as well for moving the desks.) I can’t get up with [Classmate]’s chair out like that!

Teacher: (rolls her eyes, condescendingly) [Classmate], move your chair in so she can get up. (The classmate moves in a little bit, just enough to let me get up, but before I can…) Move in more than that! She’s fatter than you and needs the space!

Me: (speechless).

(I wish I could say that was the worst of it. I missed a week of school due to my father passing away. I was attempting to catch up with my classes once I was back, and attended one of her tutoring sessions. This time, due to still being in a pretty fragile state, the harsh treatment I received made me burst into tears. Her response was to just coldly say “don’t expect me to feel sorry for you just because your dad died!” Which didn’t just shock me but the other students in the room as well. All I could do was grab my stuff and leave. The following school year, my mom was pulling me out for winter break a few days early so I could go on a trip with extended family since this would be my first Christmas without my father. I went around to all my teachers to get holiday homework beforehand, and all were understanding and gave their planned assignments. When I went to this teacher, she scribbled some equations in my notebook and said that was it. I foolishly took her at her word. When classes started back up, I learned the homework was an entire section of our textbook. She railed on me for not doing the work, and when I tried to remind her she didn’t tell me what the work was, she sneered that that’s what I get for missing school.

That following year, I ended up in the same high school with a bunch of classmates from middle school and we decided to get together and visit our old stomping ground one day after classes let out. When we arrived we found four teachers sitting together in one of the classrooms; three of my favorite teachers, including two who had been such a comfort after my dad died and even came to his funeral, and THAT teacher. I got a petty little thrill at her shocked and offended expression when I deliberately ignored her, turned my back to her when speaking to the other teachers, and went around hugging all of them except for her.

That’s what you get for being mean).