Hey folks, Harry here... As I read through the folks attempting to get into BAD TEACHER, I thought I should probably share some of their stories, because frankly... I've just never seen a collection of Bad Teacher stories. For me, my personal bad teacher stories include a coach that deliberately flunked me for leaving the football team, then a Texas History teacher / Coach that used to rub the girls' asses inbetween administering "licks" aka ass beatings with a board, which were allowed at my High School in the 80s. But those stories are lame in comparison to what I have for you below...
I've left off the names of the story tellers to protect their identity. Here ya go...
Worst teacher ever: 9th grade art teacher. He was going through a divoce with his wife of six months (his 3rd marriage, mind you) and showed up to class sloppy drunk. Crakced open a Miller Lite right then and there, referred to his soon-to-be-ex as a "cunt," and asked each female student present why women are "hardwired to be soul-sucking, money-grubbing bitches." Then told us all to fuck off, spit out his beer, and stormed out of class. Surprinsgly enough, it took the school THREE WEEKS to fire him and he later unsuccessfully brought forth a lawsuit for "wrongful termination."
Uno. My computer science teacher. No joke. She was the homecoming queen back in her day. I got away with a fair amount ... and had my own keys to the classroom. Oh there was the detail that I was the sysadmin.
Dos. And then there was the hot teacher who took us all to Disney World senior year ... We had had her back in 8th grade before that. Back in the 8th grade everybody was trying to get a glimpse ... of anything they could.
Tres. The soccer coach from Romania who defected from the Soviet military by swimming across a river while being shot at. He'd tell us all the dirt on everybody including the faculty ... while smoking his cigar and using diesel fuel to mark the lines on the soccer field. The man smoked like a chimney on campus. The "football" team won a fair number of state championships.
During my freshman year of high school our home room teacher went on sabbatical for the second half of the year. In her absence they got this crazy old hippie named Cathrine to fill in for her for the remainder of the year. Cathrine made us rearrange all of our desks so that we were sitting in a circle because she felt the energy was better that way. She would also usually spend most of our class time just rambling and telling us all kinds of crazy stories. The best one was where she revealed that she had a love affair with Gene Hackman. She claimed that as a young woman she lived on the road and often relied on the kindness of others as she bounced from one place to another. At one point (and I can't remember how) she end up living on Gene Hackman's property with him and his lady friend, and my teacher and Hackman ended up having a short but passionate affair. She claimed that anytime she watched a Gene Hackman movie she would get emotional
My bad teacher experience:
Ok so everyone had to take a "reading" class in middle school (which makes no sense, we were 13 and at that point I could tear through a novel in 2 days easy. I don't even remember what we did in that class). ANYHOW, the teacher was this mean redneck that played lacrosse and liked to see us kids beat each other up. I was nerdy and got picked on a lot, and one time I blew up on this kid and smacked him back in front of the teacher - who goaded the other kid on. It was a pretty terrible classroom to be in. Needless to say it took him 2 months to get fired - but it was for a totally unrelated thing! He hunted and apparently had left a shotgun in his car. One of the English teachers saw through his bullshit and hates him. I'm pretty sure she's the one that got him caught. I loved her.
my freshman year in high school a teacher choked me for scaring her with a fake snake. for real.
Have to go with my 7th grade PE teacher, Coach Ford. He was a nice enough older guy, but he his daily class routine included sitting in his office reading the paper while the students changed and generally being oblivious. Add in the fact that only two types of students - nerds and delinquents - took PE and not athletics, and the results were rather predictable. The locker room descended into a scene from Lord of the Flies. My parents finally intervened when I showed up at home with a burn mark on my arm, after a classmate had -no joke - held a lighter to my skin. During the subsequent parent-teacher conference, Coach Ford casually blew off any concern by saying "it's society's problem". Today, the whole sequence of events would probably result in a lawsuit. In 1991, it resulted in a change to my course schedule.
My bad teacher was my algebra 2 teacher Mr Box. He would saunter in each day approximately 5-10 minutes after the bell with a coffee cup the size of a whiskey barrell. He would either tell us to open our books to page xxx and "punch and crunch the numbers" or write an equation on the board and tell us to do the same. He would then go to his first and only love,.... COFFEE. If anyone asked him for further instruction he would state "it is right there, just do it." and return to swilling his coffee. I needed more assistance and had quite a hard time getting anything out of that class, After repeated complaints by myself, other students and the parents and him trying to falsify documentation he was asked not to return.
My High School French teacher had every one of her final exams revoked by the dean because not one person in any of her classes got above a D on them. (everyone wound up with an A for the class)
Stage and Media professor would drink with and allow a few students to booze after a successful show... on school grounds! (not bad but certainly badass)
My german-descended Spanish teacher -- he looked just like John Denver -- passed me a small note in class during an exam. All it said was "Do you know why you're like a sharp pencil?", then he whispered to me "because you're both little pricks". He didn't teach at that school very long.
My bad teacher experience was with a middle school science teacher who laughed maniacally after my best friend and lab partner stuck a pair of tweezers into an electrical socket on a dare. He was still laughing as a sparkball of electricity blew out of the socket and across the floor. He was laughing as my friend stood crying with singed fingers and frizzy hair in our science lab that had no lights on since the circuit was blown. In the darkness I could hear his crazy laughter. I'll never forget that. He hated his student.
In college I had a professor of communications that was smoking hot. She used to flirt with me, wink at me during class, call me into her office to discuss nothing and even asked me to come to her house to work on her computer. One day she had me in her office and she closed the door. I wad thinking, "This is it. I'm going to fuck my teacher." I had a full hard-on. She looked awesome, leaned forward and said "You know... ... ... I wish you had an older brother that looked exactly like you that didn't go to this school." What. The. Fuck. She smiled, winked, open the door and I left. Yeah, I probably pussed out a bit but she was totally fucking with me. The rest of the semester was a giant blue ball inducing nightmare. She ended up dating a cop and quitting the school. I still wonder what would have happened if I had been more aggressive when that office door was closed...
My High School algebra teacher- Mrs. Jones - Was the embodiment of evil. The only math class I ever failed, I had to endure her for 3 semesters. The very first day of school during my first semester with her, she introduced herself to the class and proceeded to inform us that "everything we heard about her was true" and then slapped two kids with detention for giggling at her. She ruled the classroom with an iron fist and looked for every opportunity to give poor grades. I HATED her, I can't even imagine what the kids who had zero aptitude for math felt for her.
My Bad Teacher was my 4th grade teacher Mrs. Westbrook, I am not sure if it was her old age, or being from a different era but she was a stern and mean lady. I was a big boy back then, or as my mom liked to say "husky" , and there was another Eric in class who was a little taller than the rest of us, so when the class was set to learn about the difference between length and width Mrs. Westbrook made me and the other Eric stand up in front of the class to provide a real world example of length vs. width.
Back in my early college years, I was really hardcore into playing EverQuest. My electrical engineering professor, Mr. McCoy, was as super cool guy. During the semester, I learned that Mr. McCoy just happened to play EverQuest as well and it turned out that we were on the same server. Throughout the course of the semester, I would offer to trade Platinum (the in-game currency of EverQuest) to Mr. McCoy for leeway in the course, be it skipping class, homework forgiveness, or answers to tests, which he *ahem* may or may not have accepted. Needless to say, I received an A in that class for very little work and attendance.
My worst teacher experience was in 2nd grade... when I got in a fight with a kid for stealing my swamp thing toy, the teacher MRS THEDFORD broke us up, and decided since the other kid claimed the toy was his and that he didn't steal it, she'd just keep it and send us both to detention for fighting.
I grew up in the Valley, (Brownsville, Texas) and I had a Chemistry teacher who was accused three different times of sleeping with three different students. I remember her being young and really hot and it was the classic hypocritical actions, where she was never brought to trial or anything. I had a friend who claimed she would mess with him at school.
I was too much of a nerd to know for real but after the third time she was accused, she was let go.
Anyway, she was a BAAAD TEACHER!
In high school, I was the head officer of the dance team the year our director walked out on us without telling us she was even leaving. Our new director was about 22 and thought she could run our team by being our "friend." She liked to walk around barefoot on campus, even to the principal's office, and earned the name blackfoot because of her severely soiled feet. She was known to lay on her back in the gym with her shirt up to her chest showing her very pregnant stomach... she loved to be barefoot and pregnant. She also wore the same bra everyday and it appeared broken when her strap would show. The night of our senior recital she danced at 9 months and did a tremendous leap and everyone thought her water was going to break on stage. I couldn't help thinking that recitals were supposed to showcase student achievement not staff... the football coach can't go and make a touchdown on Homecoming. The parents would complain to me about her... like I was the adult in charge. She loved to sabbotage any plans I would make for the team and did her best to make me look bad any chance she received. I struggled the entire year with this horrible woman and was happy when her contract was not renewed. Whoa that was a therapy session right there!
During my 8th grade year I had a Pre-Cal teacher who instead of teaching us PRE-CALCULUS for high school coming up, would leave a multiplication chart(of all things) up on the overhead project for us to work on(5 minutes of work maximum). She would never be there for class, instead spending this time down the hallway either gossiping with another teacher OR as us junior high kids got into our heads, having an affair with the coach or principal(she was attractive, so naturally she was totally being fucked down the hall). She'd then show up for the last 10 minutes of class to grade the "work" we had done that day and assign homework based on the VAST amount of material that had been covered. I think she assumed since we were the more advanced class that we didn't really need "teaching". Needless to say, I fucking sucked at every math course after this one.
I can't wait to see Bad Teacher, it looks hilarious. My bad teacher experience comes from elementary when I was in third grade. I found out later in that school year that I had a teacher that refused to teach me because of the color of my skin. I was a little too dark for her liking. Still to this day, I get upset that she refused to teach me. Of course now, such a thing wouldn't be allowed to happen, but I told my mother then after we found out why would I want to be in a class with a teacher who didn't want to teach me and obviously was a horrible person. Had I known that my replacement teacher was also going to be just as bad, I might have made that bad teacher have me in her class anyway. :-) Throughout all of my school year's that year, was my worst experience. Hope to see you on June 23 to see a funny Bad Teacher experience.
I was a fat kid in middle school, and I had a p.e. teacher that just hated me. Every time we had to split into teams for any sports event like hockey, basketball, etc. Instead of pulling out the large yellow jerseys to distinguish an opposite team, he would point to me and say skins. Which meant we had to take our shirts off. Being a fat kid with a stomach and boy-boobs is a recipe for other kids to taunt. I remember the teacher even laughing at some of the comments. This happened all the time.
This one is brief, but I had an English teacher who once said as a side-remark and not ironically, that the people of Spain (where I’m from) are short and small because of the Spanish Civil War. Wish I had had the quick wits back then to ask her how exactly does war makes people shorter…
I had a teacher / coach that was always trying to show off and put on the tough guy act, but most people didn't take him very seriously. Kind of reminded me of Chris Farley as the bus driver in Billy Madison. One day during Meteorology class (yes, seriously), a friend of mine that had brought one of those remote-controlled "fart machines" to class realized another friend had stolen the remote.
The friend with the remote was in the adjacent classroom, but still apparently in range of the device. The machine started going off during class, and the teacher actually thought it was someone having real gas (even though it repeats the same 4 farts over and over and generally sounds pretty fake). He became very flustered and asked who had eaten too many refried beans for lunch (it was taco day).
He eventually singled out my friend and told him that he better hold it in, or else. Finally, he blew up and told my friend to "get the hell out of here and go see the nurse." He did, whilst the fart machine got a couple more off. The remote controller friend said he could hear our teacher yelling through the wall.
When my business marketing teacher tried teaching us a formula for figuring out how much your profit margin is and no one could figure it out. So we looked in the text book and were shown a different formula. When we told her the book showed us a different formula. She told us she knew her way was wrong but do it her way anyway. She also almost got me fired my job at a movie theatre by holding up my concession line on busy Friday night to talk about class.
When I was in the 10th grade, I was in the jazz band. I was the only person in the group who wasn’t driving because it usually consisted of a few juniors and mostly seniors. We were playing a small recruiting concert across town at a middle school to get kids to join the high school band when they got there, and because of the size and age of the group, everyone was allowed to drive themselves to the gig. Not being old enough to drive, I rode with the band director. We left a few minutes early so we could “set up equipment” at the middle school. What we actually did, though, was stop at the local strip club so he could have a drink. They let me in because he was a regular and knew the guy working the door, promising we’d be in and out. He had a double Crown and Sprite, and I had a Coke and got to experience my first afternoon shift at The Paradise Club...there are some things you just can’t un-see. And I owe it to my very own Bad Teacher.
The first day of senior English in high school, the teacher comes in and tells us a story about a theater class where two actors were on stage rehearsing when a cockroach scurried across the stage. One actor wanted to kill it, the other thought it should be let outside. They got into a big fight, so the director walked onto the stage, walked over to them and stomped on the roach shouting "I decide what lives and dies in my classroom!"
As our teacher said this last line, she looked at every single person in the room with CRAZY eyes. We were sitting there thinking "holy crap - she's going to kill someone before the end of the school year." I'd never been so terrified of a teacher before. I'm telling you: Crazy. Eyes.
I have a distinct memory of an English teacher in the early part of high school that had something called 'the chair of truths'. Every other day when we would meet for her class she would randomly pick someone from the class to sit on this thing directly in front and facing the class. Every single person in the class had to say one thing they liked about the student and one thing the didn't. Most days it would go down like this... Jennifer you are really smart and also a caddy bitch. After a couple weeks when everyone hated eachother and self esteem was at an all time low the chair of truths was retired.
When I was in high school I repeatedly had a lazy sub that would just throw on a movie. Normally this wouldn't be anything to complain about as my friends and I all loved movies. The problem was it was only ever one film...Remember the Titans. It's a decent little motivational true story sports movie on first watch but after having watched it SIX TIMES over the course of one semester I was not as enthusiastic about it. To be fair though anytime the movie comes on cable I can quote most of it and my friend Rob does a killer Denzel that to this day cracks everybody up at parties.
I had a high school math teacher who, in his spare time, dressed up like a knight and attended renaissance fairs. While we took tests, I shit you not, he would use the opportunity to practice his swordplay with a yard stick, fighting an invisible opponent as we tried to concentrate. Those were the days...
My 9th grade English teacher was a drunk. We saw her filling a shopping cart with the cheap gallon jugs of wine all the time. She was lit every morning before school. One day we decided to hid all the chalk but glue one piece to floor in front of the board. She saw it, wobbled over to it and bent over to pick it up. Of course the chalk didn't budge. Tried a dozen more times. Then she stood up and just stared at it for an eternity. Finally, she went back to her desk and said verbatim, "Fuck it. No lesson today. Read your books."
When I was 14, I had a young male science teacher who was really into heavy metal like me and my friends. He ended up taking my four best friends to see Pantera. This was in 1991, before they had blown up - a club gig with stage diving and all that fun stuff an 8th grader dreams of doing. My mom wouldn't let me go because she said, "HE COULD BE A CHILD MOLESTER!" My friends all had a great time. But the twist is, the very next year, he was fired and arrested for sleeping with one of his students. So mom was right the whole time! Still, his affair was with a female, so I don't think I would've been in any danger. I still hate my friends for getting to go.
Ms. Vann was the assistant art teacher for 7th and 8th grade. She wasn't Mrs. Johnson, who was 6 feet tall and lanky and 40. Instead, she was 23, curvy, and beautiful. She got more than a few boys, including me, to take art class. At our end of the year fair, she volunteered for the dunking booth and, no kidding, wore a white top. Now, it was thick and had some stripes, but not where it would matter. They moved the line to throw from back for the teacher before, presumably in anticipation. 15 guys (again, including myself) paid to throw 3 balls to nail the target and give birth to brilliance and dream fodder. Then they said she had to go, which is when she got chants from the reinvigorated boys. "Let her stay!" echoed, until they gave 10 more boys the chance.
No one ever hit the target and we were denied the rest of our lives. Our own Rita Hayworth, whom we could never see in all her glory, I am still convinced that she loved every second of the attention.
My PE teacher, Mr. Black really wasn't a great teacher. Since P.E. was my Home room. We would get his "How his morning is going?". He really hated marriage and in laws. My freshmen Year he told the entire P.E. Class. " For God's Sakes wear a condom! What I heard about some of these girls here.. You do not want to knock up any of those Bitches!! You WILL kiss your life and future good bye!" Let's say every guy in the looker room had the same look and thought. "which girls?"
In 11th grade for "spirit" week (a week usually reserved for wear school colors day, inside out day, 50's day, etc.) the Randall High student council decided it would be fun to have "Bum" day! Well, it didn't sit right with my group of friends that a buch of upper-middle class white kids were going to dress up as poor people, because it's WACKY! So, we made simple shirts that said "Bum Day" circled with a line through it. About 45 of us wore our shirts, didn't make a scene, just simply voicing our concern that the day was distasteful. Being one of the "ringleaders of the rebellion" (actual words used by our dipshit principal) my best friend Lindsay and I were sent home and given zeros for the day. The rest of us were forced to change clothes for not representing the school in a positive and uplifting manner. Eventually the joke game back on them when I got a story (short though it may have been) on the evening news and an apolgy from the priciple! Viva la proletariat!
I had a Latin teacher who was actually quite good at instilling information, but it was mainly through raw fear and the ability to throw a chalk-board eraser with unnerving accuracy. It didn't help that his best friend was the borderline psychotic History teacher who had his eye carved out by the Mau-Mau during the Kenyan Civil War. Turned out that the Latin teacher had been a British Military Intelligence interrogator on Cypress during the 1950s. Trust me, nothing makes you learn your declensions like modified enhanced interrogation techniques. The saddest part was that his smoking hot daughter was in my class, but no-one dared ask her out.
In my junior year of high school, I had a computer science teacher who was 22 and a recent Texas A&M Grad. He ended up becoming our friend and we invited him out to some paintball trips on the weekend. One weekend, I called the number he had given me and his mom answered, and she had to bring the phone to him. He had to profusely apologize for not having told us he lived with his mom, and proceeded to lead us to believe that she was his "roommate" instead of his mom. In this midst, he asked for a ride (great segway for a 22 yr old) and we came to pick him up at his moms house. Once he was in my buddies car, he ended up sparking a bowl, and trying to pass it around.
Needless to say, it was the strangest experience I have ever had with a "teacher." To this day, I still can't think of Jason as our teacher. He was really fucking bad.
I had a bad teacher experience. My classical guitar professor once tried explaining the economic problems of the world and after a spirited anti-everything rant, he explained:
"People are fucking too much. We can talk about birth control and condoms all we want, but people are still gonna fuck. Especially the Mexicans. Those people do nothing but fuck and over-populate. We should hide all the tacos, in every sense of the word, so they go away."
He did this in front of my grandmother, who he didn't know was standing in the doorway of his office. Needless to say, getting her to pay for private lessons with that "profane man" was difficult from that point on.
So my Texas history teacher, Mr. Bailey, in 7th grade only taught us about Texas history about half the time we were in class (if that!). Instead, we spent a majority of our class periods learning about aliens & UFOs. So in place of pictures of Crockett, Bowie or Bush on our classroom walls we literally had pictures of aliens and blow-up green men hanging from the ceiling. And we spent whole class periods just watching films like "The Day the Earth Stood Still" and "Cat from Outer Space". Granted, to Mr. Bailey's benefit, we did learn some Texas history, like I got to do a film project where I played Lee Harvey Oswald and my friend played Jack Ruby (that was our final exam, by the way). I will never forget that year of class. It was the craziest class I think I've ever had. But I am all the well off for it. Because as the green men once said, "remember the alamo!"
My German teacher used to sell LSD to his students.
SO - what's your BAD TEACHER story?