(We are going over lab safety in my eighth grade science class. Most of the class are slightly more advanced, but still bored with the same lecture from every year prior. The teacher notices and starts to speak up.)

Teacher: “So, in the case a flammable liquid spills…”

(There is a clink and splash of glass falling over and something spilling out. I am sitting close to the front of the class and smell rubbing alcohol.)

Teacher: “…THIS is the last thing you do.”

(I hear the distinctive noise of a match striking before a woosh. I feel heat at my back. I turn around to see the table top on fire. The class goes dead quiet.)

My Friend: “Did she just—”

Teacher: “The tables are fire-resistant, so stay calm. Get the fire blanket, located here. You open the case like so.”

(The teacher opens the case and pulls out the blanket.)

Teacher: “And put it over the fire like this.”

(The teacher tosses it over her desk, patting it down and putting out the fire. She goes quiet, pausing for effect before continuing the safety procedures like nothing happened. Six years later, she was still the best science teacher ever.)

(My sister’s daughter goes to a middle school where they require a uniform to be worn during PE. A few weeks into the new school year, my sister checks my daughter’s grades online to find that she’s failing PE. She calls the PE teacher.)

Sister: “Why is my daughter failing PE?”

Teacher: “She refuses to wear the uniform during PE. Every day she doesn’t wear the uniform she is docked.”

Sister: “I ordered the uniform from the school. My understanding is they are on backorder.”

Teacher: “Yes. They are. We expect them here in a couple of weeks.”

Sister: “So if the school doesn’t have enough uniforms for my daughter, why are you docking her for not wearing them?”

Teacher: “Well, that’s two separate issues. She needs to wear the uniform to PE.”

Sister: “How is she, when she doesn’t have one, and the school is out?”

Teacher: “Oh… The list of students that have uniforms on backorder is on a different piece of paper than the docking list. So I didn’t connect the two.”

Sister: “So you’ll fix her grade since she doesn’t have a uniform to wear?”

Teacher: “That’s a good point… I’ll remove the docks to her grade until the school can provide her a uniform to wear.”

(The bad thing is the same teacher had been docking all of the kids on the backorder list. It’s just that my sister is very vigilant about keeping on top of my niece’s grades!)

(Our teacher is a young woman in a wheelchair who always wears long-sleeved tops, even in summer. This semester there has been a problem with one of the taller boys picking on a younger girl.)

Teacher: “Class, I need to talk about bullying today.”

Bully: “Did [Girl] snitch?”

(The girl looks really frightened and I begin to worry.)

Teacher: “No, it’s the curriculum. Please, settle down and I’ll talk.”

Bully: “You do realize you can’t physically do anything to stop me? I can do what I want here and you can’t stop me?”

(The teacher leaves the classroom just before recess. I see one of the other teachers drive her away. When she comes back, she is wearing a different top and unbuttoned coat.)

Me: *to friend* “What’s she doing?”

Friend: “I don’t know. Maybe she got her top dirty.”

(In class, she wheels to the front of the room and looks very serious.)

Teacher: “Now class, I think I need to talk more about bullying. It is NOT a good thing, and it traumatizes children.”

Bully: “Yeah, but what you gonna do about it?”

(Wordlessly, the teacher takes her coat off and we gasp. Along her arms are lots of tiny scars. She looks a bit upset but I can see she’s trying to be strong.)

Teacher: “How about my wheelchair?”

(She gets a PowerPoint presentation out and shows herself on the screen. It is an old photograph of herself aged about ten on a chair in a princess outfit. She’s smiling and not using the wheelchair. And the next is of her sitting down at a party table with long sleeves. The last photograph is of her in her wheelchair at her graduation ceremony. The teacher then stops the PowerPoint and gets the last picture up on the main screen. She clicks a remote so the picture enhances. We see bags under her eyes, a tiny scar on her hand holding the degree and – most shocking – red marks around the middle of her neck.)

Me: “Miss? Are you okay?”

(She looks away from the screen, a little startled.)

Teacher: “You see class, bullying is NOT OKAY. I was lucky they noticed it before it went too far. Two more minutes though…” *she suddenly snaps out of whatever she thought of* “And the thing is, you have to be strong. Don’t let them pressure you into hurting yourself. Because they win.”

(The bully immediately runs out of the classroom. We don’t see him again since he was expelled for other things besides bullying. That was five years ago. Now that I’ve graduated, I keep thinking about how strong my teacher was in that last photograph and how she still tried to keep herself going. Thank you, miss, if you’re reading this. You’re amazing.)

(We’re taking a math test. No one in the class seems happy. After many students have made the despondent walk of shame to her desk, the teacher decides to speak up.)

Teacher: “Guys, I’m going to ask you a question. I want you to be really honest. How many of you are going to fail this test?”

(Over three-quarters of the class raise their hands.)

Teacher: “Okay. Come back and get it. This’ll be a take-home test.”

Student: “Can we sing celebratory songs?”

Teacher: “Go ahead.”

(Our school has several compulsory courses, including a half course on either religious education or citizenship. I chose citizenship since it was a new course and sounded interesting. I soon found out that it was a total joke. The teacher spent a whole lesson standing at the front of the class actually crying over the Union Jack flag and talking about her patriotic pride. This was followed by several other pointless lessons that covered nothing at all. The class culminates in a mock exam that forces us to miss lunch break, and 45 minutes of the next period. The test is a waste of time. I finish in 15 minutes. Then I try to leave.)

Teacher: “Sit down. You may not leave the exam room until the exam time is complete.”

Me: “I have finished. I am hungry and want to get lunch.”

Teacher: “This is an exam. You are not allowed to leave.”

Me: “Actually, I’m pretty sure that by keeping me here without access to food is illegal.”

Teacher: “No. It’s not. You’re a student. You don’t have rights.”

(This goes back and forth with me trying to argue the whole point of our course was to learn about our rights. Eventually the lunch break ends. The next period begins, which is one of the courses I actually still have hope for.)

Me: “You are now making me miss my science lesson which I’m pretty sure counts as a violation of my right to education.”

Teacher: *repeating as a mantra now* “You’re a student. You don’t have rights.”

(This argument has now been picked up by nearly everyone else in the room who just wants to leave. It starts to get very loud very quickly. The teacher is just screaming at the top of her voice, ‘You’re students, you don’t have rights!’ The noise has evidently disturbed other nearby classes. One contains the head teacher who comes to investigate.)

Head Teacher: “Right, everyone. Be quiet and let me find out what’s going on here.” *turns to teacher* “What is happening?”

Teacher: “They won’t remain quiet and finish their mock tests.”

Me: “Excuse me, miss. I finished mine in the middle of lunch break. You then refused to let me leave and get lunch. Further, you kept us all in the room through both lunch and now half of fifth period.”

Head Teacher: *turns to me* “She kept you in through the whole of lunch break? And is now making you miss other classes?”

Me: “Yes. And when I tried to tell her this she kept saying that I’m a student and I don’t have rights, which is ironic since we’re in a citizenship class!”

Teacher: “You don’t have rights, you stupid child!”

Me: “Actually, when you weren’t crying over the Union Jack about your patriotism you actually told us that any British citizen regardless of age has both the right to education and the right to freedom of movement. Two rights you have denied to us.”

Head Teacher: “Okay. I think I understand. All students leave the room now. If you need lunch, since you were unable to get any, the cafeteria is still open. Please go and help yourself. Once you have eaten, please return to class. Tell your teachers you had permission from me to do so.” *turns to teacher* “You and I better have a little chat.”

(Later that week, the teacher was fired. The course was scrapped the following year. I still managed to pass the exam… somehow.)