Teachers

It is awful, the things people say and do in the name of their religion

One of my primary school teachers was a nun.  She actually said to me once 'you're not as clever as your brothers are you!?'.....I spend the rest of the lesson digging my finger nails into the palm of my hand to stop myself from exploding.

She locked one unruly pupil in her cupboard, he was in my elder brothers class.  He was quiet the whole time.....When she opened the door at the end of the lesson.  She was greeted by a smiling kid with a face covered in chocolate.  He ate whatever stash she had in there lol

Teachers, a bunch of violent ignorant thugs.  That's what I remember from infant school.

This "Dear Teacher" letter was posted on Asperger Syndrome Awareness on Facebook and sums up what so many of us as adults, now wish we could have found similar words to say or write to our teachers.

Dear Teacher,

You wrote my mother and father a really formal letter today and they became stressed which made me very sad. I wanted to cry but I struggle expressing my emotions. I got angry instead and pushed mother which made me shout and scream. Daddy, I mean Father, took me to my bedroom for a timeout. I said “Father” because I copy those around me and I wanted to imitate your style of writing. Miss Teacher, I have autism and I want you to understand me because I don't want to be called “bad.”

I am not a bad child when I talk over you in class. I do not mean to, I just didn't process what you were saying to me.
When I shout at you I instantly regret it. The lightbulb in the classroom keeps flickering and it is causing me great discomfort.  It hurts me. I become anxious and can't find the right words to tell you what is bothering me.

When you give me several verbal instructions at the same time I become confused, anxious, and then I forget what you asked me to do. I did not do this on purpose. I have a great long term memory but a terrible short term memory.
I communicate better when information is written down and I become anxious when you ask me to stand up to talk in front of the entire class.

My mother and father cry when you send them a letter to say I'm badly behaved. They blame themselves but I can't comfort them — the words just do not come. This makes me upset. Living with autism is not easy. It's really difficult.
But I believe we can do anything when we put our mind to it. All we need are people that are willing to understand us. I need you to understand me.

So, Miss Teacher, I want us to work together and I want us to understand each other. A famous quote I like is, “If you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will spend its entire life believing it's stupid.” I don't learn things in the same way as everyone else. I don't expect you to become an autism expert but I want you to understand me enough not to call me “badly behaved” — it hurts me more than you know.

Thank you teacher for reading.

From, every single child on the spectrum

Being so close to the borderline, my parents did not disclose my condition to my schools. The professional who diagnosed me at age 4 gave them difficult advice, with me being so borderline, disclosing it could mean being labelled "incapable", but not doing could mean being labelled "difficult" and a "less tolerant" environment (i.e. more telling off), and they went with the latter.  Some teachers were of the nature of just telling off harshly for the most minor infraction, and I don't know if disclosure would have made much difference to them, especially if they were ex-military as per Roy's quote

Roy said:

Physical violence was quite normal with some of the older male teachers as they had been in the war and discipline is all boys understand.

but where credit is due I had some good teachers who had more holistic attitudes, saw my positives and I got on well with them, though would still describe my school life as unhappy overall.

What is wrong with chemistry teachers? I did the exams at 16 when there were two separate exams 'O' level and CSE - the best mark at CSE was equivalent to a C pass at 'O' level. I did not get on well with my chemistry teacher, for some reason she thought I was less able at the subject than I was. In the run up to the exams she told me that she was entering me for the CSE, not the 'O' level. I then became unusually assertive. I had come third in the mock 'O' level exam in her class, which was the top set in the year. I asked her if she was only entering the top two scorers from the mock exam. This proved not to be the case, so I insisted that I be entered for the 'O' level. I ended up with a much better grade than C, proving my point.

I had an r.e teacher.....weirdly.  He was teaching French. Anyway......this teacher was very popular with the students but I didn't like him and thought he was a 'phoney'.  I didn't cause any trouble or anything, i just didn't react to anything, or think he was particularly funny and he seemed like he was putting on an act to hide his true self.  

All the kids would day how great he was but I just thought he was putting on an act.  

For some reason, he would just put me into detention for literally nothing (still no reaction from me) and eventually moved me into the bottom set (away from him)  Which another teacher was bamboozled by.

God, these stories are awful. I’m thankful for the bit of unity this has brought to us, but I sort of regret asking the question! My brain is now poised ready for more memories to come back, and I don’t really want it to recall anymore. I can’t bear that thought of us, as naive children needing help and guidance, but instead being treated in such a vindictive and cruel way

Goodness me. I wish I had a brother!

It’s great when you do connect with a teacher. I realise I did, when I was in junior school. My teacher just seemed to get me. She never pressured me to speak, never made a fuss when I done something good because she knew I hated being in the limelight. She would just go and staple my work outside the class for people to see. She did send me to the head teacher quite often to show him my work, and get some sweets as a reward. She always let me go with someone, as I always got lost on the way back. She also let me stay in at break sometimes to read, and read books in the library corner when I’d finished my work, becuase I always finished ahead of everyone. I think she was ND. She never really said much unless she needed to. She didn’t mix with the other teachers at lunch etc, and looked very stern. I think everyone in the class feared her, but I thought she was lovely.I cried when we went up a year and I had to change teachers!

All of the time. My Chemistry teacher said that there were 2 exams (we were the first year for GCSE 1988 ish?) and that we needed to attend both of them, then he added, "except Alan who only needs to turn up for one". 

I didn't realise he was being sarcastic and I did, of course, only turn up for one, this resulted in me getting a D; probably would have achieved higher had I gone to both of them. 

The slipper was actually a size 9 plimsoll and the user of the pandybat was Irish! The bat was like a mini cricket bat but flat.

It was PE teachers who tended to use footwear for corporal punishment at my schools. Luckily, from the point of view of possible inappropriate sexuality, the strap was always used on the hands. I think that 'children beaters with handles' were called 'pandybats' in some areas of Ireland.

All of these stories on here are really sad/depressing.

It makes it abundantly clear (if it wasn't already) how some people with a bit of power will abuse it.

I was certainly singled out in junior school in the mid 90s. One teacher in particular who favoured the popular students used me as the most unpopular to show her favourite pupils the definition of a stupid boy. She made my school life hell and she always went out of her way to call me a stupid boy and recommended that I was put standing towards the wall most lunchtimes where she encouraged her students to pick on me and call me a stupid baby. From then I went home for lunch and as far as I know this teacher still teaches and I really hope she's changed her attitude towards kids with ASD or any other mental condition. She was to me a complete monster who was more of a bully than a respectable teacher. Shame on her!

My worst teacher was also my first. It was at nursery school, aged 3 to 4, and I had never encountered other children before. I would have meltdowns and try to run away, due to the noisy and overwhelming environment of the playground. As a result I was punished almost every day.

The punishment was being made to sit in the corner, cross legged, facing the walls for the remainder of the school day. If I as much as tried to turn my head towards the rest of the class the teacher would yell at me and tell me to face the wall again. If I cried I was shouted at even more and told that I was behaving like a baby. Those memories are still so vivid for me.

My Primary school had a slipper for girls and the headmaster had the cane for boys. The teacher had named the slipper Willy, the teacher would announce that a girl was going to get Willy on their backside. At that age I had never thought of the double meaning. The deputy head had a thin plank of wood about 18” long, with a handle made of leather, it had “the heat on the seat” ornately  written on it, he had bought it on holiday and was all pleased with himself. He hung it with pride next to the blackboard. To think that a factory actually made this seems quite weird. The age of the children was between 8 and 12.

Societies always punish difference, whatever that difference may be.

The further back in time you go the worse the stories become.

I worked with a chap who was about 10 years older than me. In his Catholic school he was constantly wrapped on the knuckles of his left hand with a ruler when trying to write and forced to write with his right hand despite being left handed.

My mum (who I believe was autistic etc) was locked in a cupboard for hours at school.

• Wow! That was brave. I can remember a boy being punched by a teacher. The boy had an older brother, the school had a pay phone, he rang his brother and he came out of work and marched up the hill to the school. He walked straight into the class and knocked the teacher out. He became a folk hero. I do agree though that words can hurt just as much. These teachers were supposed to nurture young minds, not destroy them. One teacher was brilliant and I always kept in contact with him. He was my sports teacher, traditional they would be the most insane but he wasn’t. I got bullied quite a lot when doing sports. I have no coordination, I can’t throw, catch or kick a ball and when running seem to have too many legs. The bullying was particularly bad one day and he took me off the pitch and said that he realised that sport wasn’t my thing, but something out in the world will be. He then said to not worry about any of them on the pitch, in less than a year I would be leaving and will  most probably never  see any of them again for the rest of my life. He was right. I sometimes only takes one decent teacher to stop someone doing something serious to themselves.

I have remembered a few more instances from high school in the late 80’s. An English substitute teacher often ridiculed me, and often made me read to the class despite knowing I was ‘shy’. I excelled in English Lit and Language! Maybe she was jealous? She forced me up to the front of class to explain why ‘someone like me’ thought I knew more than her, considering I was a nobody, and she had been to university….!  I refused, but then she said the whole class won’t continue until I get up and come to the front…unless I’m too scared too, and she smirked.

By this point (after weeks of bullying from her), I was full of anger. I went up, stood an inch away from her face and reeled off her inadequacies, and her poor ability to handle a class of 15yr olds. The class whooped in support, because I was right, and they all hated her. She tried to slap me round the face, I stopped her. I looked at her and warned her that if she was going to hit me she better be ready for the consequences, she left the room red faced. I was shaking with anxiety, but I was glad to finally stand up for myself.

Another teacher, in design and tech was much the same. She ignored me, didn’t respond to my requests for help or explanation, consistently marked down my work, regularly ‘lost’ my work, and regularly ‘damaged’ my work so I had to re do it. Again, after months of this, I stopped participating in the lesson. I just came in, sat down, and done nothing. This was another subject I excelled in. Perhaps she didn’t like that. I don’t know.

Abuse doesn’t always have to be physical. Sometimes it’s words, or just a look that makes you feel small and insignificant.

Oh yes, we had sammy the skipper, the cane and a ruler. Luckily I didn’t receive any! 

I’ve always said I wasn’t bullied at school, but going by other peoples accounts, I think I probably was, just I didn’t realise.