Using an unabridged dictionary instead of my 4th-grade textbook’s glossary.
Every new unit in social studies had a vocabulary box with about a dozen “new” words. The teacher’s first assignment in each unit was to write out each word, then the complete definition of that word from the glossary. Each assignment was worth 10 points. Anyone who “failed” the assignment (less than 7 out of 10 points) was given a lunch detention: no recess.
Some units had only a handful of words; the assignment would end up being 2 or 3 pages. Some units had a lot more. They would end up being 5 or 6 pages.
She took off points for each misspelled word, missed punctuation, bad handwriting. The assignment had to be completed in ink, and she prohibited corrections of any sort. No erasable ink: If you made any error anywhere on the page, she expected you to rewrite the entire page. If the ink stopped flowing in your pen, and it produced an interrupted line, that was a point off.
It had to be turned in on standard ruled paper. Using college rule was an instant failure.
Once, I found a nice pen. It was a 1mm ballpoint. It produced nice, thick, clean, dark lines. It wrote smoothly. It was the first pen I found that I actually liked writing with.
Points knocked off immediately: she called it a “marker”, and the assignment was supposed to be completed with a “pen”.
One night, I had forgotten my social studies textbook at school. I decided against even attempting the assignment, and resigned myself to another lunch detention. Dad had other ideas. He insisted that I was exaggerating; the the teacher would be reasonable and accommodating. He said that she would appreciate the effort, and might even give me extra credit for going above and beyond.
He called around, and got the vocabulary list for me. He sat me down with the list and his big, unabridged dictionary, and told me to start writing. I remember that I filled two whole pages with the definition of a single word, and that I turned in 15 pages.
When she was grading my assignment, she called me up, and asked me what I had done. I explained that I had used a dictionary. She pulled out a big red marker, wrote a giant “F” across the first page, and gave me two lunch detentions for my obstinance.
She fucked me up for a few years. All I learned from her was that if I couldn’t achieve absolute perfection, there was no point in even trying.
There’s a unique trauma that comes from watching your parents be wrong like this. If your teacher were a normal person, your dad could have been correct. A normal teacher may have said, “this wasn’t the assignment, but good effort, good proactive problem solving, good teamwork with your dad”. Instead, your dad, who you trusted, who you looked up to as brilliant and infallible (I’m generalizing here, abt kids and parents, maybe not your relationship specifically), convinced you to think outside the box and then you were punished for it.
My mom had a typewriter and then we were one of the first families to have a computer and a printer among my classmates, and my mom always made me type my homework because she thought it would impress the teacher. I got in trouble because I was supposed to be practicing handwriting. The teacher never told my mom tho, so i was made to type at home every night. And then I’d just re-write it on the bus in the morning. And it would look bad because the bus was moving haha! And now I have TERRIBLE handwriting!
This is correct. This person was not a teacher and makes everything worse for all of us who actually want to encourage and educate young people. I rarely feel anger, but this kind of thing absolutely enrages me. Why would you do this to a child??
As a dad I am feeling anger towards the dad as well, though.
If you don’t believe your child (happens) and be proven wrong you have to at least try to make things right.
I would definitely be at school the next day and have a chat with the teacher. Which very likely would lead to nothing but give me a cause to go to the administration the very next day and unleash hell there.
Using an unabridged dictionary instead of my 4th-grade textbook’s glossary.
Every new unit in social studies had a vocabulary box with about a dozen “new” words. The teacher’s first assignment in each unit was to write out each word, then the complete definition of that word from the glossary. Each assignment was worth 10 points. Anyone who “failed” the assignment (less than 7 out of 10 points) was given a lunch detention: no recess.
Some units had only a handful of words; the assignment would end up being 2 or 3 pages. Some units had a lot more. They would end up being 5 or 6 pages.
She took off points for each misspelled word, missed punctuation, bad handwriting. The assignment had to be completed in ink, and she prohibited corrections of any sort. No erasable ink: If you made any error anywhere on the page, she expected you to rewrite the entire page. If the ink stopped flowing in your pen, and it produced an interrupted line, that was a point off.
It had to be turned in on standard ruled paper. Using college rule was an instant failure.
Once, I found a nice pen. It was a 1mm ballpoint. It produced nice, thick, clean, dark lines. It wrote smoothly. It was the first pen I found that I actually liked writing with.
Points knocked off immediately: she called it a “marker”, and the assignment was supposed to be completed with a “pen”.
One night, I had forgotten my social studies textbook at school. I decided against even attempting the assignment, and resigned myself to another lunch detention. Dad had other ideas. He insisted that I was exaggerating; the the teacher would be reasonable and accommodating. He said that she would appreciate the effort, and might even give me extra credit for going above and beyond.
He called around, and got the vocabulary list for me. He sat me down with the list and his big, unabridged dictionary, and told me to start writing. I remember that I filled two whole pages with the definition of a single word, and that I turned in 15 pages.
When she was grading my assignment, she called me up, and asked me what I had done. I explained that I had used a dictionary. She pulled out a big red marker, wrote a giant “F” across the first page, and gave me two lunch detentions for my obstinance.
She fucked me up for a few years. All I learned from her was that if I couldn’t achieve absolute perfection, there was no point in even trying.
There’s a unique trauma that comes from watching your parents be wrong like this. If your teacher were a normal person, your dad could have been correct. A normal teacher may have said, “this wasn’t the assignment, but good effort, good proactive problem solving, good teamwork with your dad”. Instead, your dad, who you trusted, who you looked up to as brilliant and infallible (I’m generalizing here, abt kids and parents, maybe not your relationship specifically), convinced you to think outside the box and then you were punished for it.
My mom had a typewriter and then we were one of the first families to have a computer and a printer among my classmates, and my mom always made me type my homework because she thought it would impress the teacher. I got in trouble because I was supposed to be practicing handwriting. The teacher never told my mom tho, so i was made to type at home every night. And then I’d just re-write it on the bus in the morning. And it would look bad because the bus was moving haha! And now I have TERRIBLE handwriting!
That souds so horrid I would claim it was unrealistic if this was the first time I heard of a teacher behaving unfairly.
Unfairly? You’re being too nice.
That teacher is a bitch and should be no where near children.
This is correct. This person was not a teacher and makes everything worse for all of us who actually want to encourage and educate young people. I rarely feel anger, but this kind of thing absolutely enrages me. Why would you do this to a child??
As a dad I am feeling anger towards the dad as well, though. If you don’t believe your child (happens) and be proven wrong you have to at least try to make things right. I would definitely be at school the next day and have a chat with the teacher. Which very likely would lead to nothing but give me a cause to go to the administration the very next day and unleash hell there.