Ever been picked on by a teacher mercilessly? misunderstood?

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Once in sixth grade, I got up to throw a piece of paper away, and the teacher grabbed me and threw me back in the chair. I got up again to run to tell the principal, and she threw me back in the chair again and grabbed my pen and broke it over my hand. After school when I did tell the principal, she told him that I had broke the pen over my own hand.

Yes, I had an algebra and geometry teacher who didn't like those of us who struggled with the subject, no matter how hard we tried. I thought I was the only one until my senior year when another classmate mentioned in the "embarrassing moments" section "....getting in a fight with Ms. (name withheld)." I wasn't diagnosed with Asperger's until I was 28 because I was too high-functioning for an autism diagnosis. Even if I had the diagnosis in high school, I doubt that teacher would have cared.

I had a teacher in 8th grade that was pretty bad, though it's sorta funny now. I got kicked out of school in 8th grade cause I wired up an electric cigarette lighter striker into the guts of a mechanical pencil, so the pencil shocked you if you clicked it. This was determined to be a "weapon", and I got emergency expelled. Long story short, several threatened lawsuits later I was at another school with a clean record, except that the math teacher who doubled as the registrar at the school somehow found out about the "incident". He decided that the best way to deal with this piece of information was to persecute me in class, even though I was soft spoken and didn't cause any trouble... until he started picking on me in class. Eventually, my parents found out about what was going on from the parents of one of my friends (I didn't tell them about it), and after yet another call from our lawyer the guy was told to stay away from me. Before that happened though, I went into full on evil mastermind mode in his class. My favorite thing that I did was screwing with the electrical equipment. I stole the handles off of all the mounted pencil sharpeners, then disabled the electric one by opening up the bottom and hard wiring a short into the power cord. I did something similar to the overhead projector by unplugging it and pushing a steel pin through the cord near body of the thing, then cutting off the ends of the pin. It never got any less funny watching people blow circuits to the class room every time something was plugged in. I'm sure the guy suspected me, but he never was able to prove anything.

Yes, numerous times and they were real traumatic experiences for me.

I recently learned that many mediocre teachers have a tendency to be jealous of their gifted students. Amazing but true!

I got in an arguement with my gym teacher once. I got so pissed that I told him to "f**k off", right in front of the whole class. That's actually why I dropped outa high school, they wanted to send me to an alternative school 50 miles away and my dad decided that I was already smart enough and pulled me from school. He must've been right, 2 years later I took my GED and scored 97th percentile nationwide. Woohoo! I'm smarter than all you and I never finished 9th grade! So yeah, teachers are douchebags. You know what they say. Those who can do, those who can't teach.

I had an art teacher who took an instant dislike to me when he realised I couln't draw.

The topic was life drawing and we had to draw the person who was standing on a table on a large peice of paper using a thick crayon. The idea was to divide the person into 3 sections; head, torso and legs. The paper had previously been folded into 3 sections and we used the creases as guidelines (note how I have remembered the details of the task from 20 years ago - that's how much it scared me!)

On first attempt this teacher took one look at my picture, held it up in front of the class and laughed. I sheepishly laughed along, thinking it was a joke perhaps.. Well it was no joke, he ripped it up and threw it accross the room while screaming insults at me.

The following weeks were awful. I had anxiety attacks before this man's class. During each class he took my picture (no-one else's) and tore it up. He slammed his hands down on the desk in front of me, told me I was stupid because I couldn't draw and basically made me feel like crap.

Then one day I'd had enough. I ran out of the class crying. But guess what happened? This teacher followed me out acting very concerned and asked me if everything was alright at home!! I couldn't believe it.

Years later I worked out why he picked on me so much. Apparently he was a very lonely old man with a drinking problem who apparently 'liked' the popular girls. You see I was VERY unpopular, in fact I had no friends. I can now see that I was an easy target for this man, but at the time I had no idea why he didn't like me.

To this day I don't draw.

Mon,

That's a pretty bad story about the art teacher. Some teachers really don't deserve to be in their profession.

You should draw though... don't let an outlet of expression be closed by some idiot's tampering. Imagine what would have happened if Picasso had listened to his critics.

Seriously though, to not draw ever again is to let that b#### win.

This art teacher sounds like a frustrated intellectual. He had a degree, no doubt, and was probably a devotee of some "ism" or "style" about which he wrote angry letters to Art in America. He lived in New York after college and came to the horrible realization that he could not make it as an arteeeest or an academic alone, despite his SUPERIOR TALENT and BRILLIANT AND ORIGINAL THEORIES, and that he would have to take a teaching job to make ends meet.

How he resented his students! He was the next Andy Warhol, and he had to stoop so low as to teach Those Little Bastards the rudimentaries of drawing and pretend to like their poorly executed and bourgeois little drawings. There was one Little Bastard he especially liked to seethe about while he sat up all night in his mothers basement: the clumsy little conventional middle-class wonderbread-eating freak who could do nothing with his hands besides make clumsy, freakish flapping motions. It was disgusting. Eight years of college to teach him how to doodle some middle-class wonderbread thing! He tried every day to show that child his innate inferiority to the elite, creative population. Yet he never seemed to be able to properly vent his impotent rage. Why did the world not acknowledge his genius? Why?!

Good God, thought MissPickwickian, how many novels have we seen this pathetic guy in? He's become an 'effing archetype.

Miss Pickwickian, that was very enlightening indeed. I'm still laughing!

Nah, there be rules to what they can do. All you gotta do is lay it on straight, tell 'em full well what your rights be in the school vicinity, and they overstep that, call 'em out on it. Helps if you got classmates willing to corroborate. No school's look'n for negative publicity, and given the hyper-sensitive nature of today's child rearing, ain't no scratch gonna be had without a hiss.

You just gotta look at the system and eat it up piece-meal.

i didn't get anything too bad, most of my teachers were really nice but the two that weren't did call attention to the fact that i was often distracted and disorganized. i think i did too well for them to pick on me too much, i always had some of the top marks despite being distracted, not listening, not doing any work. they also tip-toed around the subject of my meltdowns, they never seemed to bring it up in class (that i know of) so i never knew anything about it. they may have said something while i was gone (either suspended or in the principle's office) and the kids may have treated me differently but i never noticed.