Some things make sense to us with time. However, at times, our convictions are so strong that they don’t change much - what at one point seemed wrong continues to feel erroneous five years later.
The first incident I will mention is an example of something similar. What angered my nine-year-old self continues to anger me today.
The earlier years of my childhood were marked by me reading a tremendous variety of books, ranging from books like Dracula and Alice in Wonderland to Diary of a Wimpy Kid and the occasional Geronimo Stilton. In fact, I did not like Geronimo Stilton but I still proceeded to read a lot of the books in the series.
Diary of a Wimpy Kid was a series I read simply because it was funny, and gave me good laugh on days when I truly needed it. As my mother would often say at that time, it taught me what not to do. Needless to say, the witty pranks played by Greg and Rodrick were a big part of my life.
In order to finish reading books in the series, I did everything from sleeping late, to spending mornings reading. I even watched the movies, which I found to be quite hilarious.
My school library housed quite a few Diary of a Wimpy Kid books as well. The vast majority of my classmates enjoyed reading the books, and would often read them during free periods.
That was a regular sight. Until one orthodox teacher thought it was a punishable offense.
One evening at school, my grammar teacher was in a mood to yell at the entire class, which wasn’t much of a surprise since she was notorious for terrorizing children. Most of the teachers viewed her as an icon for enforcing discipline - when in reality all she did was create an atmosphere of fear to mould submissive students. Every time any teacher was unable to handle the issues caused by students, they would “summon” her to make things right - which was nothing more than her aimlessly yelling at us.
On this particular day, we happened to have grammar class right after library period. This gave her an opportunity to lay her eyes on the types of books we checked out - her face swivelled into a look of disgust when she noticed that the cover of one book read Diary of a Wimpy Kid, while the title of another book was Captain Underpants.
“DIARY OF A WIMPY KID!?”, she yelled, in a voice so loud that it made the listeners feel that she was releasing her year’s worth of emotions at one go.
A kid with the book whimpered as he was eventually summoned by the teacher, in order to become the centre of classroom discussion.
“Tell me, what do you learn from this book?”, said the teacher in a rhetorical tone.
My then classmate replied by saying that the only reason he read it was because it was funny.
That was all the traditional teacher (woah, alliteration, you know what, I’m just going to call her TT) needed.
TT spent the entire class lecturing us about how both Captain Underpants and Diary of a Wimpy Kid do not teach us anything that could be construed as valuable in the future. Apparently, she even found the title “Captain Underpants” inappropriate. I mean, I totally get why that would be inappropriate, it’s not like underwear is something everyone possesses, right?
For the dimwits out there, the last sentence is sarcastic.
Looking back, I really think a teacher who believes the phrase “Captain Underpants” is inappropriate is far worse than little kids who laugh when they hear references to pooping and peeing.
That was one incident that involved her. Trust me when I say there is far worse.
In fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth grade, a ton of my friends (and a few close(r) teachers) were puzzled by the fact that I had a weird habit of tying my hands on the back. If anyone wanted the story behind that, well, here it is.
Every time we walked in a line, TT would tell us to tie our hands at the back and walk with discipline. I’ll give credit where credit is due - she was not the only teacher who did this. A lot of teachers had the idea that discipline was walking with one’s hands tied on their back.
As my mother always said, you know who else always had to tie their hands at the back and walk? People being transported to Nazi Concentration Camps. Actually, it shouldn’t surprise me much because if you jumble the letters in the name of my old school, you get the word “slave”.
That reminds me - if that’s the definition of obedience, why did I not win an award for “Best Discipline” or something in fifth grade when a teacher promised me I would get it? Well, I don’t know. My life in my old school is clearly filled with a ton of mysteries.
I don’t think I went through a year of school life without being noticed by her in some way or the other, and I do not mean that in a good way.
The next year, I went through a bit of a personality revamp and was “blessed” with a class teacher (not TT) who had a few ideas about what a kid should be.
See, I think a lot of adults have an imagery that a kid is a happy and tinier person who socializes with other tiny people. Reality isn’t that simple, and I’m sure they would be able to see that themselves if they thought about their own childhood.
In the final Parent-Teacher Meeting of fifth grade, the class teacher told my mother than I am “moody”.
Honestly, at that point in my life, I would never imagine my mother defending me when a teacher says something like that. For instance, even when TT lectured the class on the futility of Diary of a Wimpy Kid and Captain Underpants, my mother encouraged me to put myself in her shoes and give her the respect an adult deserves.
To my surprise, however, she replied to the teacher by saying that there would be a reason behind why I am moody. She was right; I did have my reasons. Most of it had to do with my disappointment in other people my age.
The “idealist” teachers encompass a whole breed of teachers I do not respect as much as others. A lot of them are not worth mentioning.
TT and several other teachers come under “suppressers”. They seem to be the type of people who visualize students to be people who are capable of no good unless properly “courted”. Their idea of a disciplined student is one who never questions anything they say, no matter how far-fetched it might seem.
In other words, they want ALL of your emotions suppressed, if you cry, that’s a problem; if you’re angry, that’s even worse; and to add fuel to the fire, the punishment you get for laughing in their class is the same as the punishment you get for going off when they say something unreasonable.
Of the few times I was publicly scolded in class, it was for laughing. I have never understood why that happens, human beings are supposed to feel - if I find something funny for whatever reason it may be, I don’t think I should be kept from laughing. I don’t think I would ever be insane enough to laugh at an inappropriate situation, like if someone died. If teachers can be empathetic to tears, submission and embarrassment, why can’t they understand laughter?
I am no one to judge, but that looks like a serious self-esteem issue. It’s not a surprise that a lot of teachers (in India, at least) wind up being teachers solely because they couldn’t do better. As it ends up being something they “have to do” for the money, their effort is equally subpar. The fact that they couldn’t get a better job causes some kind of inferiority complex that leads to them yelling at a kid who laughs at a funny incident in class.
That applies to anyone who is frustrated by someone laughing at them. It’s not a big deal. Most of the incidents where I, as an individual, end up laughing at someone, are because they said something I find incredibly stupid and counterintuitive. I am no one to say if that’s the right reaction, but sometimes it’s not really under my control.
To add, I am sure many of us grew up on Tom and Jerry, a cartoon that is literally based on a humourized crime scene. As it is normalized, no one yells at you for laughing at Tom and Jerry, they are just viewed as two characters with frequent spats.
If someone were to laugh at something inappropriately, why can’t a teacher just tell them instead of wasting an entire class lecturing them?
Then there are “original” teachers. That might sound like a good thing, but sadly, it isn’t in most cases.
To me, “original” teachers are those who display their true colours to the entire class, no matter how their internal beliefs may hurt their students. Many of the teachers in this category are heavily biased in several aspects. In my opinion, a person with that amount of individuality and bias is better cut out to be a diva than a teacher.
By “biases”, I don’t just mean having a favourite student in class. I also intend to include teachers who truly believe one race is better than another, or another political leaning is better.
I don’t think opinions are the only thing that creates one’s individuality. If one is a terrible teacher, that’s a part of one’s personality too. If the said teacher does not want to improve their teaching skills, that’s an even worse part of their personality.
Even if the earth shook, they would not change. Making most of them a bit too “original”.
Of course, there are a few good teachers whose true selves create an exemplary teaching atmosphere, but I have already spoken about that.
Some teachers are a mix of these three major categories, and some teachers may not even fall into any of them. My huge rant is solely about the teachers I encountered.