Crosswords1 min ago
Memories Of Being Picked On By Teachers, Do You Have Any?
23 Answers
It is odd but I was thinking back to childhood and how I felt bullied by teachers/adults, not so much other students.
I remember high school in the year 2000
There were several incidents mainly involving teachers
In my first year we had to sit where we were told to in the canteen (apparantly this was because people had been misbehaving). I was quiet/didn’t have many friends. I was put on a table full of older lads. They took the **** out of me for the full half hour I was sat there. I asked the dinner lady (who I had had no previous interaction with) if I could move as they were calling me she yelled loudly ‘NO you stay where you are put, if you have a problem then see the headmaster’. The lads loved it and continued to laugh
Another time was during winter when it was freezing outside it had started to rain so I was wet too. I went to stand just inside the doorway to a corridor (it was still cold but not as). A teacher came and shouted ‘out, GET OUT now lunch time hasn’t ended’. I went back out and by the end of lunch 2 of my fingers were yellow on the ends lol.
In the fourth year I went to the toilet after class/at the start of lunch which I hated going to as they were full of smoke but I couldn’t wait. Most of the cubical doors wouldn’t lock so I kept it pushed shut with one hand. Suddenly a dinner lady came in and shouted ‘OUT NOW, you are all smoking I know you are, leave now’ she pushed my cubical door hard against my hand and I remember banging my elbow as I tried to push the door back shut. I said ‘I am on the toilet’. She said ‘I don’t care get out and kept pushing the door’. I had to abort my toilet doings and walked out. I had never and still haven’t smoked a cig in my life.
I know they were only doing their job so I forgive them but I think they needed to realise that not everyone needed yelling at
Does stuff like this still go on?
Do you have any stories about being picked on by teachers?
I remember high school in the year 2000
There were several incidents mainly involving teachers
In my first year we had to sit where we were told to in the canteen (apparantly this was because people had been misbehaving). I was quiet/didn’t have many friends. I was put on a table full of older lads. They took the **** out of me for the full half hour I was sat there. I asked the dinner lady (who I had had no previous interaction with) if I could move as they were calling me she yelled loudly ‘NO you stay where you are put, if you have a problem then see the headmaster’. The lads loved it and continued to laugh
Another time was during winter when it was freezing outside it had started to rain so I was wet too. I went to stand just inside the doorway to a corridor (it was still cold but not as). A teacher came and shouted ‘out, GET OUT now lunch time hasn’t ended’. I went back out and by the end of lunch 2 of my fingers were yellow on the ends lol.
In the fourth year I went to the toilet after class/at the start of lunch which I hated going to as they were full of smoke but I couldn’t wait. Most of the cubical doors wouldn’t lock so I kept it pushed shut with one hand. Suddenly a dinner lady came in and shouted ‘OUT NOW, you are all smoking I know you are, leave now’ she pushed my cubical door hard against my hand and I remember banging my elbow as I tried to push the door back shut. I said ‘I am on the toilet’. She said ‘I don’t care get out and kept pushing the door’. I had to abort my toilet doings and walked out. I had never and still haven’t smoked a cig in my life.
I know they were only doing their job so I forgive them but I think they needed to realise that not everyone needed yelling at
Does stuff like this still go on?
Do you have any stories about being picked on by teachers?
Answers
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For more on marking an answer as the "Best Answer", please visit our FAQ.I think we all have memories of bullying at school. I never had to deal with it myself, but I witnessed it happening from both pupils and staff.
I will always regret that I never stepped in and tried to stop it, but at the time I was young, scared, and grateful it wasn't happening to me.
Now I'm old and not so scared I don't tolerate it.
I will always regret that I never stepped in and tried to stop it, but at the time I was young, scared, and grateful it wasn't happening to me.
Now I'm old and not so scared I don't tolerate it.
I'm 73years in November and I have bad dreams about my last head master still. His name was Ansell Savage. Savage by name and Savage by nature.
I recall the annual prize giving day where the Borough of Barnet Mayor was to officiate in the prize giving. We were all seated in the adjoining Community hall awaiting his grand arrival. Someone let off a stink bomb .The hall was evacuated and the mayor was directed to the headmasters office for tea and bickies whilst the windows and doors were left open in the hall
to 'depong' the venue.
For some reason my name was forwarded as the culprit. Every day for about a month, after morning assembly, I was oiked out the ranks as we filed past his office for an hours grilling. Every day I denied any knowledge. One day there was a knocking at the head's study door and a rather agitated science master came in holding a sheepish and frightened lad by his ear. The boy was David Evans, the older brother of Timothy Evans who both attended the school and were sons of 'Taff' Evans the one time Geography teacher and then R.I. teacher (Lay Baptist Preacher). Mr Kingston, the science master, stated that the boy had dropped a stink bomb in the Lab and he clearly saw it done. Taff Evans was summoned to Savages study where the story unfolded. David burst into tears and admitted the dastardly deed to his father and headmaster. Taff Evans then blamed it on my devilish influence. It was still all my fault and I was dismissed without an apology. I reckon I missed a day's schooling over the month with those daily hourly inquisitions I hated them all at that school.
I recall the annual prize giving day where the Borough of Barnet Mayor was to officiate in the prize giving. We were all seated in the adjoining Community hall awaiting his grand arrival. Someone let off a stink bomb .The hall was evacuated and the mayor was directed to the headmasters office for tea and bickies whilst the windows and doors were left open in the hall
to 'depong' the venue.
For some reason my name was forwarded as the culprit. Every day for about a month, after morning assembly, I was oiked out the ranks as we filed past his office for an hours grilling. Every day I denied any knowledge. One day there was a knocking at the head's study door and a rather agitated science master came in holding a sheepish and frightened lad by his ear. The boy was David Evans, the older brother of Timothy Evans who both attended the school and were sons of 'Taff' Evans the one time Geography teacher and then R.I. teacher (Lay Baptist Preacher). Mr Kingston, the science master, stated that the boy had dropped a stink bomb in the Lab and he clearly saw it done. Taff Evans was summoned to Savages study where the story unfolded. David burst into tears and admitted the dastardly deed to his father and headmaster. Taff Evans then blamed it on my devilish influence. It was still all my fault and I was dismissed without an apology. I reckon I missed a day's schooling over the month with those daily hourly inquisitions I hated them all at that school.
It wasn't unusual to be clonked on the head by a flying blackboard rubber - they were made of wood, rapped on the knuckles by a ruler, clipped over the ear or the back of the head.
The best teachers could control the class without raising their voices, just a look was enough. They had no need to resort to throwing rubbers or rapping knuckles.
The PE teacher used to smack our bare backsides with a wet towel if he thought we were dallying in the shower.
PE teachers used to come in two types - one sort who wanted to be everyone's mate, thought they were one of the lads; the other were ex-army types who enjoyed bullying and humiliating the fat lads.
The best teachers could control the class without raising their voices, just a look was enough. They had no need to resort to throwing rubbers or rapping knuckles.
The PE teacher used to smack our bare backsides with a wet towel if he thought we were dallying in the shower.
PE teachers used to come in two types - one sort who wanted to be everyone's mate, thought they were one of the lads; the other were ex-army types who enjoyed bullying and humiliating the fat lads.
not picked on per se but we had a biology master who didn't think of throwing a Roberts text book, weight 3-4 pounds, at anybody he thought was not paying attention and he would occasionally toss a bunseb burner in our direction too. We had our revenge in many ways such as electrocuting his leeches and injecting his cactus with pure alcohol - it bolted!
Nasty bs that we were, the physics master, useless that he was and also blind as a bat, new labs and he leant back against the presentation desk..."Boys - can you smell anything?" "Nor sir, no sir." The bunsen behind him was on and his tweed jacket was smoking away - the panic when he realised what was happening!
Nasty bs that we were, the physics master, useless that he was and also blind as a bat, new labs and he leant back against the presentation desk..."Boys - can you smell anything?" "Nor sir, no sir." The bunsen behind him was on and his tweed jacket was smoking away - the panic when he realised what was happening!
Not so much as being personally bullied but most of the teachers at my grammar school were sadistic. The headmaster would patrol the corridors with his cane hidden behind his back and would lash out at any child he didn't like. The science teachers used Bunsen burner tubing to hit the boys and the history teacher would grab the hair in front of the ears and twist it. The English teacher had a different method to torture us, he was an ex major and spent most lessons boring us with his exploits in the desert. Not surprisingly, we always did badly in English exams but excelled in WW2 history, especially the part that covered the desert campaign.
Never by teachers or by the other pupils. But I was very aware of my height and ganglyness and being called Lofty by some. My worst memories of shool were of sports and hating everything except netball where because of my height it was easy to net the balls. I also hated the regimentation element of school, like teams, uniforms, prefects etc. I was pleased to leave school. But I never got bullied.
I remember an English teacher of whom we were terrified in the first couple of years, the story was that he had been a Commando and trained to kill sudden noises which made him very strict.
In the Sixth Form I found myself sitting in a pub with another English teacher and we got talking about him, apparently he cultivated this story about the Commandos, in reality he was a very gentle and kind man,
After years away from my home town I returned with my family and was astonished to meet him in the Church, it was lovely to see him.
In the Sixth Form I found myself sitting in a pub with another English teacher and we got talking about him, apparently he cultivated this story about the Commandos, in reality he was a very gentle and kind man,
After years away from my home town I returned with my family and was astonished to meet him in the Church, it was lovely to see him.
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