You clicked on this article either because you are undergoing or have undergone a case of villainous teacher-itis. The kind of teacher that makes the name of the class alone make your blood boil and skin break out into hives or the one that makes walking to class equally as hard as pushing a ten bound boulder barefoot across lava and broken glass.
As classes resume for spring semester, I am being introduced to a brand new batch of teachers. Some men, some women, some tall, some short, some monotonous (alright all of them are freakin’ monotonous), and some that are simply already out to get me, or so it seems. Luckily, some haven’t revealed their Bane-like qualities yet but hey, I know it’s coming.
I believe there are two types of teachers.
The first kind is the devil on the shoulders of your GPA and the others are the angels at the other end. The first kind are the power-tripping teachers who assign homework before you’ve even had your first class, enforce strict absent policies, assign reading like you don’t have a life outside the class, make you feel dumb when you raise your hand and the ones that make you contemplate just how hard it would be to drill your pencil through your brain to avoid the last 25 minutes of class (Or as I think of it, five, five-minute sections I have to get through).
Then there is the other kind of the teacher. The teacher that, for the sake of my last article, I’ll say, cut’s the sh*t. The ones that take the first class getting to know the students, the ones that don’t make attendance dependent on your grade, care about your education, encourage extra credit assignments, love to be a teacher you can come to for help, know your out partying for Mardi Gras so homework isn’t a thing that week and the ones that make comments like “I don’t do research papers or tests. That’s just a big headache for all of us and a pain in my ass, frankly.”
All hail the second kind of teacher.
Luckily, one out of my five teachers for this semester is the second kind. But they are a rare breed friends, a rare breed.
I first encountered these angel-like teachers in 11th grade. This teacher was the only person that ever made me feel like I could write. Even if my writing wasn’t perfect, he pointed out the good qualities, instead of flaws and regardless of how early in the morning we had class, he came in yelling "Good morning!" at the top of his lungs. On the other hand, my 7th grade teacher told me my work was sh*t and basically walked into class everyday like the principal from Matilda (well guess what betch, I write for the Odyssey now!).
I got lucky again in 12th grade with another teacher who made me think a completely different way about writing and although it was the hardest class I had taken in high school, I worked my ass off because I respected him so much. He chose books he knew we'd be interested in because he knew we would learn more that way. But to my math teacher of 10th grade that made me cry and told the class the first day that “this class is really hard and you’re most likely not going to get an A,” I never cared about impressing you or making you proud and if I’m going to be completely honest the hour and 15 minutes I spent in your classroom was the worst part of my day.
So my PSA to all teachers is:
If you’re going to have a negative attitude from day one, act like you hate every minute of your job and purposely make us discouraged, stop teaching please. And this isn't coming from a teenager who hates school and work, it's coming from someone who tries to find the best in every class and enjoys learning when she learns the right way. This article solely comes from the disappointment and anger I have when a teacher tries to ruin the learning experience we are suppose to have. So to all of you power-tripping teachers from hell, just know that students respond much better when you put in as much effort as you expect them to put in and give us a break once in awhile, it wouldn't kill you.
