Student #1: “You know how we had to write a movie review about our favorite movie for [English Teacher]’s class?”

Student #2: “Yeah, what about it?”

Student #1: “I did mine on The Princess Bride. Today, [English Teacher] called me up and told me I had to redo it because she had never heard of that movie and thought I had just made it up.”

Student #2: “She never saw The Princess Bride? That’s just… inconceivable!”

(Both students start laughing uncontrollably.)

(I’m a senior in French class with a teacher who is known to be a bit snippy with some of the students. There’s one girl in particular she has it in for. The girl’s sister went to the same school years before, but the teacher still gets her name wrong.)

Girl: *doodling*

Teacher: “[Sister], pay attention!”

Girl: “I’m [Girl], not [Sister], but sorry. What was the question?”

(The teacher calls her the wrong name several more times, each time the girl gets a little less patient. Finally…)

Girl: *to me* “I’m not responding until she gets it right now.”

Me: “Good idea. I’ll play along.”

Teacher: “[Sister], go up to the board and write the future tenses of [verb].”

(The girl stares straight ahead.)

Teacher: “[Sister], move it!”

(Again the girl doesn’t reply.)

Teacher: “[Sister]! Do you need your hearing checked?”

Girl: “Maybe, [Sister] does, but I’m [Girl].”

Teacher: “So?”

Girl: “I would appreciate it if you called me by my name and not my sister’s. It’s been seven years since you had her.”

Teacher: “Oh, whatever. It’s not like me getting your name right is all that important.”

(I go to college in the northeast, which has recently had several large snowstorms. The day before had been a snow-day, and more snow is due this night. I am in an early afternoon class, chatting with a few classmates before the professor shows up.)

Me: “It’s not supposed to snow until 11, but the school cancelled some of the more unimportant things starting from six onwards.”

Classmate #1: “Wait, classes are cancelled from six on?”

Me: “What? No, some events are cancelled. Sorry if you misunderstood.”

Classmate #2: “I was confused too. You said ‘unimportant things’ and the first thing I thought was ‘classes.’”

(I am in a double class being taught by two teachers. Both women are extremely over the top crazy for organization and decorum and will give at-desk suspensions to those who can’t do either. Needless to say, I had to sit at my desk for lunch break a lot. One day, after lunch, my teacher decides to have a randomized desk check. I wasn’t finished with my lunch, and it was in my desk as I had just served an in class suspension. I had small open packages like nuts and candies. My teacher comes straight to me first, and without even looking, overturns my desk in front of an entire class of 50+ kids. She glares at me, and then, with a smug smile, turns to the class.)

Teacher: “This is why you all need to be organized. Society hates people who can’t keep their stuff in order.”

(I’m destroyed. I’m seven years old and a teacher just made fun of me in front of my entire class. Only my best friend stands up for me at the time, coming all the way across the room from his desk to help me right my desk and put all my things in order. I ended up losing control and crying, again, in front of my class. Needless to say, when I went home, I talked to my mom about exactly what happened. My mom just assures me that things would be okay. The next morning, I walked to school with my neighbours, who had heard at school what happened. They asked me about what happened, but I didn’t want to talk about it. It wasn’t until I sat down for class when the boy beside me leaned over to me.)

Boy: “My mom said what the teacher did to you wasn’t right.”

(The teacher overhears this, and comes flying over. )

Teacher: “It IS right. End of story. Your mother is wrong.”

(Just then, I hear a commotion outside the class door, and my mother come through the door, being tailed by the principal, all four vice principals, and the secretarial staff, all from the office. My mom had spent the last hour in the office trying to move me out of the classroom. As it was the only grade three class at the time the principal couldn’t move me. My mom sees me, comes right my desk, and tells me to start packing. Of course, my teacher tries to intercept. This is all happening in front of my entire class of 50+ kids.)

Teacher: *to my mom* “Who are you?”

Mom: “I’m [My Name]’s mom. Who are you?”

Teacher: “I’m [My Name]’s teacher.”

Mom: “Really?”

Teacher: “Yes. I am.”

Mom: *pointing to a desk in the corner* “Is that where you sit?”

Teacher: “When I’m not teaching, yes.”

(My mom went over to the teacher’s desk, pulled out every single drawer, and dumped all it’s contents out on the floor. Then, she flipped the desk on it’s side, in front of my entire class, the principal, and all his support staff.)

Mom: *to the teacher* “Now clean it up.” *to the support staff* “Don’t help her. She’s beyond it, anyway.”

(My mom proceeded to grab my entire desk and walk down the hallway with it. As I had no other class to be in, my desk was placed just outside of the principal’s office, where I carried out the remainder of the year. The teacher was eventually fired after a full investigation and had her license to teach pulled.)

(I’m attending university in Norway, studying archaeology. We’re on our first dig. It’s April, in middle Norway, on an island off the coast, which means we have very varying weather, but we’ve finally gotten some sunshine.)

Classmate #1: “Ugh, this digging is killing my back.”

Me: “At least the sun is shining.”

(I’ve hardly said this before clouds obscure the sun.)

Me: “Oh. At least it’s still warm.”

(Moments later, a cold breeze comes in from the sea.)

Me: “Uh… at least it’s not raining.”

(It doesn’t take long before ice cold sleet starts coming down.)

Classmate #2: *glares at me* “If you start another sentence with ‘at least,’ I will duct tape your mouth shut.”

Me: *grins* “At least you don’t have duct tape.”