(Because of the weather, we have been cooped up inside all day so my classmates and I are restless. Right after lunch is civics class. Our teacher, as we all know, also serves as a Baptist preacher. As this happens, we are in the midst of a massive thunderstorm.)

Teacher: “Be quiet, please.”

Us: *talking more*

Teacher: “I said settle down.”

Us: *talking even louder*

Teacher: “I’m serious; y’all need to quiet down, now.”

Us: *completely ignoring him*

Teacher: *losing his temper* “I said SHUT UP!” *slamming his hand on his desk*

(As his hand hit the desk, lightning struck a tree in the parking lot, about 30 feet from our classroom. Every one of us freezes and stares at him in fear. He waits about five seconds and then…)

Teacher: “The next time a Baptist preacher tells you to be quiet, you BETTER listen!”

(We behaved remarkably well for him the rest of the year.)

(I’m a high school junior. My school runs a five-minute student news show. There are two crews to run the show, and they alternate weeks. I’m on one crew. We play a song picked by a student during the closing credits. This happens not long after ‘Ice Ice Baby’ by Vanilla Ice came out. It uses the same melody as ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ by Queen. My crew is off.)

Crewmate: *hears song* “Cool! They’re playing Ice Ice Baby!

Me: *listening to lyrics* “No, it’s not. It’s Bohemian Rhapsody.”

Crewmate: “No, it’s Ice Ice Baby.”

Me: “No, it’s Bohemian Rhapsody.”

(We go back and forth for a few moments. Finally…)

Me: “Let’s see what the credits say.”

(They come up, and, sure enough, it’s Bohemian Rhapsody.)

Me: “Told you so.”

Crewmate: *truly surprised* “Wow, really? I never heard of it.”

(He was a freshman. What can I say?)

(My history teacher in 10th grade is very snotty and always likes to embarrass students. He is also a rather poor teacher who just hands out notes to copy and gives tests. Today is test day and he is giving a review before lunch. He has also handed out the next set of notes to copy when we finish the test. I try to get ahead by starting to copy the notes while he is giving the review and making a note of answers on a separate piece of paper.)

Teacher: *finishes review* “So, I know many of you don’t think this isn’t important to participate in and just want to finish the class.” *he pauses then yells* “[Student]! What is the answer to number one?!”

Student: *startled and looks up from paper* “Uh, what?”

Teacher: *looks smug and goes on rant about why it is important to listen and do the review. I am still copying notes* “[My Name], what is the answer to number two?”

Me: *I briefly look at my paper* “44. And it’s called multitasking.”

(He never called on me again.)

(My school requires all seniors to take a class which informs them of politics around the world. My teacher decides to take some time to teach us civics and not screw ourselves over. The topic of car accidents and what to do comes up. Student #1 and Student #2 have both told stories of when they were in a car accident.)

Me: “Well, when I bumped somebody’s car they said it was fine and jetted off!”

Student #3: “When I was in an accident—”

Teacher: “Wait. How many of you have been in an accident?”

(About half the class raises their hands.)

Teacher: “Jesus… Is there any hope for any of you?!”

(There’s a history teacher at my school who likes to make his class fun by doing silly things, like giving nicknames and playing review games. School has just ended, and I’m in my last period class talking to my teacher and a friend, when 30 to 40 students run into the class.)

Student #1: “WHERE IS IT?! THIS CLASSROOM WAS ON THE LIST!”

Teacher: *seeming as if she expected it* “It’s somewhere on the back wall.” *points to wall covered in posters*

Student #2: “I SEE IT!”

(He pulls out a pink envelope from behind a poster. Inside is a paper that reads ‘5.’.)

Student #3: “‘5’ WITH A PERIOD?! WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!” *they all rush out*

Me: “[Teacher], what just happened?”

Teacher: “They wanted to know their test grades early, so their teacher made a scavenger hunt. They have to go to other teacher’s rooms, find the clues put it together, and possibly get their test scores. They weren’t told anything about the clues other than the rooms they’re in, though.”

Me: “What’s the answer?”

Teacher: “His old room number. The scores are in the room.”

Me: “What if they don’t know that? They could get the order of the numbers wrong.”

Teacher: “That’s why I said ‘possibly’.”

Friend: “That’s awful!”

Teacher: “I think it’s more fun than the last time. Each student was given a unique equation and they had to solve for their grades.”

Me: “I might become a teacher now, just so I can do this.”