Just a forum to muse about favorite or least favorite teachers, or both.
One of my favorite teachers in high school was a teacher who taught sociology. She was an older woman, but very cool. I also took her for an ancient civilizations class. Her classes were really interesting. I remember once, a kid in the class was doing the NY Times crossword puzzle in class - and she caught him, and, in front of the class, just started filling in the crossword puzzle - bing, bing, bing. It was impressive.
My favorite teacher taught me for four years. Two for Chemistry and two for physics. He was very interesting and really taught you to think as opposed to memorize. He taught us that there was nothing important about a single data point.
My least favorite really didn't like me. She got mad at me for writing my computer programs too advanced and separated me for talking.. in a senior level calculus class. That hadn't happened since I was in elementary school.
My favorite teacher was mrs. Remmerswaal. She was my teacher in the 1st an 5th class in elementary school. She was a motherly woman, strict when we were unruly, but warm when needed. She shared my interests in nature, physics and of course, she taught me to read and write.
If life seems jolly rotten
there's something you've forgotten
and that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing
from Monty Python's "Life of Brian"
I'll start with my least favourite. Her name was Miss MacAulay (or however the stupid bitch spelled her name). She was my primary 1 teacher (I was 5 years old). She bullied me, quite simply. When I got into a confrontation with people, she'd punish me, which was fair enough, but she never actually investigated the cause of it. Sure, I wasn't perfect, but most of the time when I stepped out of line, I was reacting to being bullied, for example. She'd tattle on me to my mum for stupid things, like swinging my jacket around at playtime. We all did silly things, but it was always me who got it. She was actually a really bad teacher, too. Never explained anything, and just had the hugest chip on her shoulder. I called her MacAulay-faced-flower, though never to her face.
There was one time I was playing with... Uh, well, I don't know the name for it, but it was square, had holes in it and you had to put a lace through the holes. I suppose it was supposed to teach you how to lace and tie your shoes, but I could do that by the time I was three. Anyway, she decided to take it off me and gave me something else, goodness knows what. When I started crying, she told me not to be a baby, and that the toy I has previously been playing with was not only too advanced for me, but was for girls.
The other time that sticks out for me, was when I wanted a reading book. I saw everyone else in the class getting one, but according to the teacher, I wasn't ready for one. She told that to my mum, and refused to give me a reading book, so my mum took matters into her own hands. Bear in mind, this was about 1990, before the internet was really affordable, so any research had to be done the hard way. My mum went to the book shop, browsed for hours on end, went to the library, did the same, and then eventually found the right book for me. I read it, and was extremely proud when I got through the whole lot. When my teacher gave me a book, two or three weeks later, she was surprised by my reading skill. The book she gave me, I completed within a few minutes. When she talked to my mum about it, my mum showed her the book that I was reading, which was called The Big Red Bus, and the teacher was furious. She tried to take the book away from my mum, and my mum... Well, she's wee and bloody well feisty, that's about all you really need to know. She kicked her arse. After that day, the teacher never bothered me.
So, now on to my favourite teacher. She was my teacher in primary 7 (12 years old). I had quite a big love/hate relationship with her. She could be a right battleaxe at times, which is why I called her Slavedriver Jones. It stuck with my classmates, too. The thing about Slavedriver Jones was that she cared about me. She was about the only teacher who actually took the time to get to know me and to try to understand me. I remember her breath always smelled of coffee, mostly because we had so many one-to-one chats. Unlike the other teachers, she actually talked to me, rather than at me. My handwriting was always something that teachers brought up. Yes, it was pretty terrible, but it was mostly their faults. You see, after a couple of years of being told that my handwriting was terrible, and having it compared to Hieroglyphs, I simply gave up trying to improve it. It was the only thing that I ever gave up on... Until Miss Jones.
Being an eccentric artist (more about that later), she was somewhat of a perfectionist, but she wasn't obnoxious about it. She watched me writing, and taught me to slow down, told me to try and write individual letters. At that point, people were learning joined up writing, but it was like I was going back to basics. She took the time, re-taught me how to write.
She saw herself in me, and I suppose that's one of the reasons she helped me so much. It wasn't just me she helped, though. She was the type of teacher who would always let you know where you stood with her. If she was pissed off at you, disappointed or happy, you'd know. As I mentioned earlier, she was eccentric. One parent's evening, she told my mum that she found me eccentric. At first, my mum was shocked, but the more she thought about it, the more she understood that Miss Jones didn't mean anything bad by it - it was, in fact, a compliment. I left primary school feeling confident, and it was mostly because of Miss Jones.
I think an honourable mention must go to Mr Torrance. He was my biology teacher. He was a bit of an oddball, but he was pretty cool, too. One time, I stole a notepad, and he gave me a punishment - he made me varnish a table. Abstract, and very unorthodox, it allowed us to talk. In the end, he let me keep the notebook, and now it is one of my book of shadows.
Of course, I can't forget my mum. Hell, where would I be without her? She taught me a hell of a lot more that I could ever mention here. Yes, I'm a soppy wee Kitty, so I'll say: I love all my teachers (apart from MacAulay-faced-flower!)
Hmmm I forgot to list my least favorite teacher... did I have one? Ummm yes... Yeah, she was one of my PE (Phys Ed) teachers in middle school. She was my teacher when we split in three for a quarter of the school year. Mrs. Burkhalter. She knew I had an asthma problem... the thing that stands out to me about any and all of my PE teachers is the look of disappointment. And boy, did she have that one down.
The one time that really sticks out for me is running what was called the "Bulldog Run" after our mascot, the bulldog. It was basically a mile, but off of the track. Now, if I tried my hardest, I only made it a quarter of the way around the track before I had to slow to speed-walking, but she pushed me all the way to halfway. I pretty much said 'F*** it' at that point, and walked, then she shoved me into running some more. I made it a little ways 'til I LITERALLY could not breathe, and though she saw me hunched over, she didn't ask what was wrong, just tried to push me on. I walked after that. They were trying to make us all run the whole way, but I know my limits and she pushed me past em once, I wasn't about to take the chance of it happening again... only worse. Those middle school PE teachers are the only ones I haven't made an effort to understand or like, because of how they looked at me and talked to me. From the outside, it would have looked like nothing, but every look they gave me, almost every word they said, hurt (didn't help that my self-esteem and such was already shit, of course, buuuuut).
There were a number of teachers I had, looking back, who were not the nicest people. I had one jr. high English teacher who used to throw candy to the kids he liked. I was not one of them. I also went head-to-head with him when I wrote a story about a girl whose radio fell into the latrine at camp, which was based on a true story. He lambasted me for it, and I remember sitting in the principal's office with him while he told me how disgusting it was. In retrospect, tho, I find the whole thing not that upsetting. Asshole.
I'll never forget my father finding out that they wouldn't let kids from my end of town into the little league. He promptly went down to the school yard on Saturday morning and organized a team for each grade from 4 to 8, and taught us all how to play baseball.
I remember having one game a week. We would play two games each day with just one ball. That ball took quite a beating as the hide almost always tore off by the end of the day.
This is nice Thread and thanks for creating it.
Was in high school, and he thought us Mathematics for two years. I was afraid of mathematics earlier but he made me so comfortable scoring 100 out of 100 become piece of cake. He was favorite of many, The admirable thing was that his character and dedication towards the students. He stayed bachelor and spent all his money for well being of the students. He conducted experiments on his cost, bought books, quizzes, seminars, for all this the expenditure was from his pockets. He used to give us assignments, which the questions were from advance mathematics, and there was always a one tricky question, one who solves it would get a prize money. The way to inculcate competitiveness and time dependent learning. since there was a time bound for such tricky question. He used to conduct exams on every weekends, and at the end of the year whoever score highest cumulatively in all the exams he conducted would be awarded advance mathematics and science books, which we would be required in further studies. Because many in my class scored well in the end exams. He used to pick poor students and could take the whole expense of those students on his own. Such students are now in good position.
He was responsible for the good nature of many students, many changed their attitude,Many made him as their Ideal.
Because of him i always respect teaches, whatever they teach.. they are the one who mold our future.
My Mom and Dad were my best teachers. Then my grandmothers.
Teachers who demanded that everyone follow a mold even if they were NOT made like the majority.
I saw this thread and got scared about what I would see. However, I do have two names I wish to add.
The first was my least favorite, my 3rd grade teacher, Miss Lawson. I was in a 1, 2, 3 combination class because I was labeled as "gifted" so I was put into the MGM (Mentally Gifted Minors) program. This was pre GATE for those who are more familiar term. I hated her & the class. I was often made to feel stupid. I did so much to get kicked out I was nearly expelled.
The following year I was removed from hell and put into Miss Slaton's class. She was my 4th grade teacher & I loved her. She taught me so much especially about life & never giving up. She had MS and it never stopped her. Hell, it didn't even slow her down. She was the reason I became a teacher.
Now, my first class I ever taught was 3rd grade. I busted my butt to make it a great experience for my kids and I hope I did. Now I'm teaching middle school and the other day a former student said I was the best teacher at the school and that his friend was lucky to have me.
I hope I'm never someone's worst teacher... but I'm sure if I'm not already... I will be.
I'm not sure I could pick a least favourite, possibly any of the math / science teachers I had the displeasure of frustrating with my inability to grasp concepts 😂. I actually feel really blessed I can't think of many that I had a particularly strong dislike for.
Favourites though, oh I could pick so many. Anyone that teaches with a real passion is what I loved.
My fourth grade teacher, Miss Surkitt, reinforced kindness and tolerance in me, taught me the importance of believing in myself and was a remarkably strong, courageous and resilient human in the eyes of my 8 year old self. I, hmmm, "buddied" a child with special needs for the whole year in her class, helped him keep up an stay focussed. He was an amazing kid. I also, long story short, ended up skipping a grade by administrative accident. The principal wanted to fix the error but I was keeping up with the work and she not only encouraged me but taught me the importance of self-belief. She ended up quite ill during the teaching year and ended up dying from adult leukaemia, yet she was the brightest, happiest person, always smiling, and loved, LOVED the kids in her class. I will never forget her.
High school my favourites were always my English teachers. I remember a Mrs. Wong and Mr Wallace in particular who taught English in year 11 and 12. They gave me the passion for English and were the reason I considered becoming an English teacher. I would still consider it and still love it, however found a different passion now. Mrs. Wong was also a librarian and she used to reserve new books that came in so I could read them first.
And now in tertiary education my least favourite is actually my favourite as well... and I think that's how you know you're in adult education. If she were primary/secondary teacher I would have resented her. But I suppose the thing is, she is not a teacher, she is a professional in an industry where she has the credibility to teach the next generation of those professionals. She has made me cry on numerous occasions, but she is a phenomenal teacher and I connect so well with the way she teaches course material, key concepts and demonstrates skill based learning. There are others who are plenty more friendly and lovely and really inject enthusiasm in you, but based on a purely teaching perspective, this lecturer is excellent.
My high school Latin teacher. He also taught me French one year, but it's Latin that I remember him for. Very enthusiastic and engaged about the subject and great at conveying that to the students. I ended up doing my BA in Classics at least partly due to that experience.
I had a music teacher in grade 7-8 and an English teacher in Grade 9 who were similarly enthusiastic and capable.
Then there was the high school librarian. Wonderful gentleman originally from England. I worked for him on a volunteer basis during the year and for pay in the summer. He taught me as much as any of my actual teachers and I ended up being a librarian for my first career. Also got me into Gilbert & Sullivan. He was a key member of the local G&S Society at the time. His son was a classmate, too.
The librarian passed away a couple years ago and I went to the visitation, the only teacher I have done that for. He was that important to me.
As for bad ones ... better not to speak ill of the dead. At my age, most of my teachers are no longer with us.
In Primary school there were 2... Mr Gordon, who made me shake in my little brown lace up shoes, and Mrs. Ojany, who skulked around the place looking like a haggard old stork, looking for a reason to give you a telling off. To call them scary was an understatement! When they raised their voices, which was often, everyone went silent. I was terrified of them and too often I was the reason for the raised voices. I came across them on seperate occasions when I was in my 20's and realised what pathetic little bullies they actually were.
On the other hand, my riding teacher was a blast. At the weekends we were allowed to go to her house and make toast. This often included havng a sneaky sniff at her Brandy!
My swimming coach was a massive part of my life. We were good friends and still are, decades later.
My High school art teacher was a scream and a massive influence. I believe he now lives in Florida and enjoys spit roast racoon and the odd bit of road kill.
My elementary (or primary) school music teacher was Mr. C... Christiansen... I learned to play the recorder and the ukulele in his classes, grades 3-5. He kick-started my love of choir, because each grade was their own choir... such small class sizes back then, lol. Maybe 100, hah. He was kind and a little silly, as I remember it, but very respectful... patient and, of course, strict in a not-strict way... ya know? Umm Char in middle school (or junior high as some may know it), grades 6-8, had a love for Charlie Chaplin, the Beatles and Elvis that was insanely catching. We watched numerous Beatles movies and a Charlie Chaplin silent film, as well as My Fair Lady on odd days when we weren't singing. His style was a bit more pop culture oriented than most choir directors'... we even did "Eye of the Tiger" once with him on guitar... Choir in middle school kept me mostly afloat. It kept me coming to school and it got me out of bed. Music became one of my passions and my escape. Seventh grade was the first time I wrote a song :) It sucked, but I wrote it, so it was awesome, lol.
God bless her soul :(
I guess he must have been somewhere around eighty by now.
