Ever been picked on by a teacher mercilessly? misunderstood?

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As of this writing, this guy will jerk his 3rd grade class around
beginning in September at my elementary/primary school alma mater.
And he doesn't have a teaching license!

Said teacher was my 5th grade basketball coach.
He was an ESL assistant/paraeducator.
He jerked me around because I played crappy games
and played crappier scrimmages.
He even egged the team to pick me close-to-last,
or heck with it, last person during scrimmages.

I plan, beginning in September, to IDEA and ADA
his militaristic ass out! Anyone have any ideas?

I studied 6th grade at a very open-minded school were students were encouraged to direct their own educational path. For me that was too difficult, for I was already used to the rigidly directed style of the school I came from.

Well, this teacher was really excited with his subject one day, and went past the scheduled time for the class. So I pointed to him that his time was over. My intention was to let him know the time so he would not miss some other important things he may have to do, but he interpreted it as if I was bored with the class, and politely invited me to leave the classroom. He thought I didn't want to listen to him, and I wanted to explain him that it wasn't what I meant, but I couldn't find the right words because if he misunderstood me once, he may misunderstand me yet again. But in that school it was common for students to speak with teachers about what they didn't like, and this particular teacher surely thought I was one of that kind of students.

I walked out the classroom with the resolution not to offer my help again.

Cori, are you talking about the ACLU?

No, here is OCR's link:

http://www.ed.gov/about/offices/list/oc ... tml?src=mr

You're basically going to be filing a discrimination complaint against the school and teacher. There is a specific form you will need to fill out and you will need to state various situations where the teacher was acting inappropriate.

I wish you the best because we really need to speak out about abusive teachers!

Been meaning to post about my high school experience as I only covered my experiances from 1st to 6th grade.
Anyhoo:

7th/8th/9th/11th and 12 (note: 10th grade was optional. I didn't take it as I wanted out a year early)grade was a nightmare, largely because I was going from a mixed primary (kindergarden/junior high) school into an all-girl's Catholic school, much to my chagrin. I was 10 years old and alreadyshowing signs of Athism so I wound up resenting the fact that every Monday I had to prayer service with the rest of my class.
The school's mini-church reeked of strong incense and to this day, the smell makes me gag not so much from the fact it's digusting but because of the assosiation with one of the worst years of my schooling life.

I clearly remember my first day in the place. It was during the large lunch break (we got a 15 minute break in the morning then a larger 45-60 minute break in the afternoon) and everyone was out on the green space socializing and making friends.

Me being a social cripple, I just kept to myself and sat down with my lunch under a chestnut tree to watch everyone else. Well, I was just enjoying my lunch and absently people watching when a group of the "chav/prosti-tot" girls came over to me.

(Y'know the kind- about 5 inches of make-up, moutains of jewelery, over-bleached hair and with the school's regulation green tartan ankle skirt rolled up to above the knee-mini sluts.)

One of them did a cartwheel whilst the others introduced themselves and tried to get me to join their little group. Well, as I was preoccupied by seeing a young girl do an effortless cartwheel across the grass, one of them asked me if I could do it.

I polietly declined but they kept ribbing me on to the point where they were practically hostile.
"Just do a cartwheel! There's nothing to it so there's no need to avoid it."

But, seeing as how I wasn't planning to flash my panties and make a complete idiot of myself, I blantantly refused and walked away to find another secluded spot in order to get away from them.

Apparently, I was unaware that in this particular scenerio, I had broken one of the unspoken rules of school ethics:

"NEVER refuse the requests of the popular kids unless you want to live a living hell for the next 4 years."

The year consisted of these twisted little b*****s snickering and whisering about me behind their backs and throwing balls of paper at me when they thought I wasn't looking. It also didn't help that
(1): I was the ONLY deaf girl in the ENTIRE school (apparently I was accepted only because the teachers wanted a "challenge" O_O ;; )

(2): I was both lanky and chubby with a noticable amount of body fat.

(3): I listened to Marilyn Manson, Nirvana, Slipknot, KoRn, Nine Inch Nails and a whole other bunch of different artists that most of the damn school considered to be "weird" and/or "satanic".

(I was considered a freak because I had long, dyed-black hair, wore my school jumper with holes cut in the cuffs to poke my thumbs through and spent most of my time sitting at the back of the class with my head down.

The only place I ever felt accepted was in Ms. O' Laughlin's art class-I think the school lumped all the "weirdos" in together as some of the nicest people I knew in school happened to be mostly art students who shared the same tastes in music and general views as I did.
As the years progressed, the art class became a kind of haven for me when all other classes became increasingl frutrating.

It was bad enough being pelted with balled up papers but I also had to put up with a bunch of dumb-as-fuck as*holes who had not a single brain-cell between them for classmates. Without fail, they'd constantly try to copy my notes and ask me to do their homework for them whilst they went off to get drunk and become gym-slip mothers.

(No offense to teen parents but seriously- 12 different girls got pregnant in 8th grade ALONE! WTF?!)

The fact that I refused to do their dirty work just made them hate me even more. It got so bad that I'd regularly wind up in detention for taking unautorized absences-I think I missed 67 days out of the usual 165 school days.

Yet despite all the hardship I was going through with the students ALONE, not one single teacher took any notice of my pleas for it to stop. I'd been to the principal- a horrible, vile evil (B)witch of a woman by the name of Sister Carmel.

She was the sort of woman who made L.Robert emery's character in Full Metal Jacket look like a freakin' CARE-BEAR in comparission. She would constantly twist my words around and make out the bullying to be MY fault. She'd talk AT me instead of TO me as due to my deafness, she thought it would be acceptable to scream in my face and shower me in her spit.

Things got even worse just before I went into 9th grade.

As my school operated on two systems: The Juniors (grade 7-9) and the Seniors (grade 9-12) part of the transition from Junior to Senior was to pick out three subjects to study for the Leaving Cert and subsquently study for the Leaving Cert.

At the time, I was under the tullage of a "Remedial Teacher. Instead of taking languages due to my hearing diffuculties, I was sent to an empty classroom for the duration of the times where I'd normally have German/French/Spanish/Irish class to do anything from the day's homework with the teacher's supervision to catching up on my drawing.

Those brief classes spent with Mrs. Shelan and the amazing Ms. Tara Murphy were some of the happiest days in the hell that was high school.

Whilst I didn't really bond well with Mrs. Shelan (she was a kinder older lady, though a bit on the stuffy side), Ms. Murphy-or Tara as I later came to call her- became one of my dearest friends for the remainder of the school years.

She was only 23 years old (I was around 14-15) so I identified with her more.
I also suspect she could've been an Aspie too as with the benifit of hindsight, she came across as delightly quirky and just as passionate about movies and books as I was. She was also the only teacher I ever met that would happily loan DVDs from her own private collection!

How I managed to get any work down with her was beyond me but despite having a barrell of laughs in her company, she also helped me get through the difficulties I was having in Maths class.

Ahh, yes. MATHS CLASS.

Imagine a female version of Professor Snape and it would be an accurate description of the unholy terror that was Mrs.McNamara.

She never ONCE smiled in the few short months I was in her tullage and though she never openly tortured me, she never had any patience when it came to explaining complicated equations to me.
As I was already failing the class, she recommened that I be placed in the Remedial Maths class with four other girls, three of them being the very same evil little b*****s that had tortured me in every other class.

Fortunately, I got on reasonably well with all of my former tormentors as well as the forth girl-a possibly Aspie girl by the name of Kate who jut so happened to like kung fu movies.

On the downside, one of these girls-who I shall only refer to as Hanna-had transfered from my old school and was one of the girls who had the dubious "honor" of making my life hell in both schools.
She got away with murder because her father was in good cohorts with most of the year heads but she eventually droped out not long before the Leaving Cert so mercifully, I was in her company only for a short while.

Anyhoo, Remedial Maths class.

The teacher was Ms. Wyms (pronoucned "Weems"), a morbidly overweight women who was completly unaware of her own horrifying body odour. Now there's body odour and there's Mrs. Wyms. She sweated like a pig in an industrial size oven and smelt like a nausating combination of rotten eggs, horrid cheap musky perfume and rancid sweat.

Add to this the fact the room whereshe taught myself and my classmates had no vents, I nearly died from the noxious gases emitting from her entire body. To make matters worse, she made a habit of sitting RIGHT next to me whenever she corrected my work so I wound up with my face practically buried in her armpit for an hour every Monday, Wensday and Friday.

Also, she was an incredibly brash and ballchy woman when she was teaching. Whilst not overtly strict, she was firm toned and often chided me if I forgot to do a question on my homework-an accidental hiccup on account of having a mild form of undiagnosed dyslexia.
Despite this, she DID have a soft side and in the rare occasions when everyone finished their work early, she'd engage us all in conversation about anything from what we were doing that week to whatever films she'd seen so although she was initially scary as a teacher, we all soon warmed to her in those rare displays of humanity.

However, there was one thing that I absolutely HATED about the woman above all else-I hated it more than her stench.

It was the fact that she was HANDS ON.

As I'm sure many of you are aware, adversion to physical contact is one of the many traits of Asperger's syndrome and though I was undiagnosed at the time, I still felt very threatened whenever she would lean across me or violate my personal space in general.

I think the worst moment was one day down in the computer lab (she also though Basic Computer Studies) when I was typing up a document in Mircosoft Word. I'm generally a fast counter (My word count is 38 per minute last time I checked) but this apparently was not fast enough for her.

Also, the way I type is vastly different to how a neurotypical person would type: I use the index/pointing fingers of both hands to type rather than all five digits as I find typing in the standard way hurts my wrists.

Well I was going about my business typin upt the assignment as per usual when suddenly, she stomped up to my console, plonked herself right down next to me, LEANED into me so hard she nearly elbowed me in the ribs and then GRABBED MY WRISTS AND PLACED BOTH MY HANDS ON THE KEYBOARD IN THE SO-CALLED "PROPER" TYPING STANCE!! ! D:>

I nearly punched her.

She had absolutely no right whatsoever to touch me in that manner. I was typing just as quickly as the other girls. sure, my typing method is unorphedox but I was getting things done and it worked for me so I don't see why she had to do that.

After the class, I was so disturbed by what she did that I hid in the girl's bathroom and cried for about five minutes. I felt horribly unclean because she'd touched me with her huge, smelly, greasy fingers and I nearly scrubbed my hands raw trying to get the feel of her touch off my skin.

Even now, just thinking about the incident gives me the chills. >__<

EDIT: MOAR!

In 7th grade I had to take Home Economics which is basically a class where for most of the week,we had to learn about taxes, paying bills, cross-stitch patterns and a whole other bunch of generic things meant to help us in "managing a home".

On Friday mornings, there was a triple class (1HR 30 mins) which consisted of the only enjoyable thing about the class which was cooking a meal from a pre-assigned recipe.
This I didn't mind as I've been a huge "foodie" for most of my life. (My belly is a testament to my love of food! XD)
The downsides? Well for starters, because the class had an odd number of students as opposed to the standard 30-to-a-class for some reason, I was ALWAYS the only girl left without a cooking partner.

I din't really mind this as I prefered to cook by myself without some idiot fecking up the recipe on me but at the same time, it would've been nice to have a little help with cleaning the dishes.

No, the worst downside was the teacher.

Evil, thy name is Ms. Ennis.

How can I describe Ms. Ennis in just a few sentances?

Well, I can try...

She was something of an infamous figure in the school-universally hated by just about every student who wasn't in cohorts with her. An older lady, probably around 50-65ish or so, she had a turkey neck and a cruel face with a huge hooked nose -"for poking her nose where it doesn't belong" as one classmate pointed out to me-and harsh, judgemental eyes that never missed an oppurtunity to scruntize.

Her nickname was "The Vulture" and it was easy to see why.

She would pick out a victim at random and slowly but surely eat them alive until there was nothing left but an empty, petrified shell.

Considering that I was a tall-for-her age, fat, partially-deaf uber-nerd, I was an easy target ripe for the picking.
Until someone told her about my hearing problems, I could keep out of her way by sitting in my usual place down the back. This was fine for me as I wear two hearing aids and I generally didn't have a problem with hearing her from the end of the room.

This all changed when she discovered the truth.
She hauled me up to sit at one of two large workstations/desks that sat directly against her own so at any given time, she could lean over her desk and get so close to sneer at me that our noses practically touched.

It was TERRIFYING.

She was also a huge hypocrite.
School rules explictly states that all students are phohibited from the following, under penaulty of detention and/or suspension:

-Wearing any make-up or nail polish
-Any jewelary other than a single pair of studs in the ears, one ring to each hand OR a single plain chain
-Using mobile phones
-Rolling up their skirts to above knee level

Well, funnily enough, about 95% of the girls in the class regularly showed up with the skirts practically around their waists, enough jewelary to make Mr. T gasp in alarm, about 5 tonnes of make-up, loads of nail polish and each busy texting their friends throughout class.

Mrs. Ennis never ONCE called ANY of these girls on their blantant rule breaking yet when I decied to wear a simple silver chain given to me for my birthday one day, she zoomed in on it despite the chain being hidden beneath my shirt collar and right in front of the class, she lambasted me for breaking the school rules, even though one simple chain was premitted.

I couldn't believe it when she ordered me to remove the chain-she would've RIPPED it off my neck given her attitude-so she could confiscate it. Apparently, I would get it back at the end of the YEAR and that if I wore forbidden jewelary in her pressance again, I'd be slapped with detention.

And yet not once did I see her EVER confiscate the mountains of chains, rings and dangly earrings worn by most of the brain-dead class populace.

If that wasn't enough, she would SCREAM in my face if I so much as mispelt a word in my assignments and if I was cooking something during the treble classes, even if I followed the recipe to the letter, she'd take one taste, spit it out and order me to trash the dish and start again.

The woman was PURE EVIL.

If I had €1 for every single time she made me come home from school in tears, I'd be a very rich woman.
When I moved into 8th grade, I got a different Home Ec teacher and for one bittersweet year, I was free from her wrath.

This wasn't meant to last for as I prepared to move into 9th Grade, the time came to pick my subjects for the year. (As i've mentioned above)
on the advice of my Remedial Teacher, I selected Geography (because it's a subject I still have trouble with today), Biolodgy (because I loved Science class and wanted to continue it) and of course, Art.

But, horror of horrors, I was told that all the Art classes were completly full and as it was the only other free subject available, I would have to take Home Economics all over again. To make matters worse, Mrs. Ennis was the Home Ec teacher for the entire 9th Grade.

I nearly had a psychotic breakdown.
I begged and pleaded with both Ms. O' Laughlin the Art teacher(who was sympathetic but unable to do anything) and then, several times to the principal who had by then been replaced with Mrs. McDermott who was a much more reasonable principal than Sister Carmel.

Despite this, she constantly said that nothing could be done and I would once more have to suffer at the hands of The Vulture.

Well, after the horror story of 7th Grade, I point blank refused to let this happen.

I fought back with my own personal vendetta against the evil b***h, hoping that if I couldn't get into Art class, I could at the very least get kicked out of Home Ec.
So I talked back and made it blantantly clear that I could not have cared less to bring my homework on time.
At one point, I actually told her IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE CLASS that I didn't see the point in doing homewoek for a class that I didn't choose to be in.

I got two weeks worth of detention for speaking out like that but I sat in that assembly hall and took one for the team.
The vendetta lasted close to eight months and throughout the time, not only had I gone from a model student (only in Home Ec class, mind. I behaved in the rest of my classes) to "teacher's worst nightmare", I was also playing truant on the days when I had Home Ec classes.

I missed so many days of school that I was hauled before the principal and given a verbal warning that if I didn't stop acting out and toe the line I would be suspended. I admit, this scared me a little so I eased off a little bit but all the while, I informed my mother about the situation and she was just as mad as I was that my pleas were being ignored.

After being sent to the principal and trying to plead my case to be allowed into the Art class for the unteenth time, my Mom became so enraged by the lack of action that she threatened to pull me out of school and contact the Board of Education, citing "discrimination on the basis of disability".

Needless to say, the school changed their tune and a place in the Art class "magically" opened.

Afterwards, things got a lot easier. I wasn't hassled by The Vulture anymore and in the rare occasions I bumped into her on the corridor, I remained civil and polite but she'd glare at me something wicked.

The students were still more or less as*holes to me but I'd learned to ignore them by this point and instead stuck to hanging out with the art students who were mostly in the same boat as was, socially speaking.

When 2004 rolled in, I grauated with flying colours in my Leaving Cert- 3 B's, 4 C's and an A in Art!

Sure enough, when it came time to collect my results, my Mom, stepdad and grandmother showed up at the school for the celebration. I pointed out Mrs. Ennis to my mother and I had to practically RESTRAIN her! XD
It was pretty funny as my Mom's only 5"2 and terribly scrappy once she gets going.

She didn't want to ruin my day so she let it drop but I made sure The Vulture knew her place as I wasn't about to let her go away without knowing EXACTLY what I thought of her.

So, I tapped her on the shoulder and recalling the incident with the hypocrisy surrounding the jewelary policy, I called her on it. I was polite, but passive aggressive and was taken aback when I confronted her.

She said that she simply "didn't remember any incident of the sort" but I intertupted her and held up my results right in front of her hooked nose and said, quite loudly.

"Excuse me, Mrs., but do you see these exam results? They are undeniable fact that I am not an idiot so please. Do NOT insult my intelligence by pretending you don't know what I'm talking about. I remember EXACTLY what you did to me that day and let it be known, I WON'T forget it in a hurry."

And with that, I walked off with my head held high whilst she stood "gold-fish mouthing" behind me.

It was a GREAT victory for me.

Wow, your school years have been horrible indeed.

My own school years started with me being bullied from kindergarten up to my graduation, and it wasnt just the "normal" bullying i also got beat up sometimes and constantly embarrassed.

it was so bad that in my 2 final years of school i only went to about 10-20% of my classes

In fourth grade I had a jerk teacher who yelled at me for being "smug" and was generally not a very good teacher- she was not skilled at imparting knowledge, nor at managing a classroom. She watched the other kids physically beat up on me and didn't do anything about it. Bullying was tolerated in the early 80's. She "retired early" from teaching, thank goodness.
The teacher that bullied me the most, though, was a college professor in one of my nursing clinicals. This was the first semester she was at our college, and I found out later that she selected a student to bully in each section. In retrospect, I did learn a lot from her despite the bad parts of the experience, because she also really knew her stuff and expected a lot from her students- unlike the aforementioned fourth grade teacher, whom I was smarter than.

I had a 6th grade math teacher who picked on me because I have dyscalia(sp). Well anyway I'm terrible with numbers always have been and he thought I was just lazy and didn't try. So he would try to make me feel stupid in front of the class. He did it to allot of other students as well. He was just a horrible person who got his kicks out of picking on little children who he was supposed to be teaching.

I wasn't picked on mercilessly by any of my teachers, however when I stayed back in junior high, my old math teacher from 6th grade laughed to my face when she found out I wasn't graduating to the high school. She was watching the detention room during the rehersal. She was never very nice to begin with, however that was just completely insulting and insensitive.

I was mostly picked on by students, but have had a couple of bad teacher experiences. The worst of them was my 7th grade Math teacher, who told me that I had "nothing to offer" and told me to leave her class. When I passed this info to my Mom, she laid into the teacher, but I still had to attend the class and was largely ignored after that.

My biggest problem with teachers were the ones that decided to use me as an example, so they'd consistently call on me over and over again to answer questions, even when it was obvious that I was having trouble paying attention or understanding something. Every time, without fail, I'd feel humiliated while the rest of the kids would sit there laughing, throwing things at me, or kicking my chair.

most of my teachers have been pretty decent. I'm smart so even if I didn't had particularly good grades, they all treated me well,liked me, except for one. she was an art teacher. I can't draw,paint, or basically do anything manual. so all my work was utter crap and despite even having a doctor's note stating my lack of fine motor skills, I still got told off regularly and got very poor grades. I usually paid someone to do my work for me. I also suck at music,but my music teacher was far more relaxed-
I don't remember being teased by students. just go called 'special' a lot

Yeah, there's been a few, this year in particular. On the first couple days I said a few things that seemed like talking back I guess. And my answers to his questions were very short and concise making it seem like I was joking.
The next day he moved me up to the front of the class, the only one with a desk by myself. He's been messing with me ever since.

You all should meet my teachers from Pakuranga Intermediate (class of 1990). especially my teachers for compulsory cooking and sewing classes.

One middle school teacher was so crass to me that one day, after being yelled at in class, I excused myself for the day without permission. I blocked out the incident, but a sibling of mine told me about it later.