Electronics
I'd like to start this message with the following announcement: bollocks to all DT teachers. You are all insane and cuntish in the extreme. Insanity is sometimes a good thing; being a harridan who drunkenly sqwawked and screamed at a bunch of 14 year olds because they didn't know what they were doing in the first lesson that year makes you the kind of insane that ends with you disappearing into the back of a big white van.

In my final GCSE year, my Electronics class was given a task to perform: create a simple product that could feasibly be sold in shops, and create an 80 page assessment of it (including all the stages of testing, design, and a fucking marketing plan).

This was to be worth 70% of our final marks, and take up the entire year. The teacher started bringing multiple newspapers to work with him, the lazy shit.

We then discovered that it was his final year, hence his laidback attitude to our success, and he simultaneously discovered that a roomful of GCSE students will, if left unattended in a room for 6 months, form cliques, piss about on the computers, and generally act like monkeys in a variety of comically sized trousers (while I'm here: fuck school uniforms).

We were all off the ground, sure, but most of us were content to prod at a piece of PCB and see what we could get through the tight internet filters. So he did what anyone who thought their balls were in a blender would do: he found the half dozen best projects so far (out of the class of 12 or so), and nurtured them at the expense of everyone else. After school sessions (oo-er), lunchtimes poring over schematics, special components brought in: nothing was too much for these little darlings.

As the deadline approached, the tension in our little classes escalated. Half the leftovers couldn't tell one end of a soldering iron from the other, and with everything else to study for, there was no time to learn it all. We slowly realised that we'd been done up the shitter, and the tension reached boiling point. Just-about-audible mutters of "wanker" followed him everywhere he went. One young reprobate pointed out the fact that he wasn't going to be coming back to the school for sixth form solely as a result of his experience in this class. His response?

"You wouldn't have got the grades anyway, you little shit."

One fight later, and he's being escorted off the premises by the police. That taught him.

I got an F in the end, as did the other leftovers, and was frankly amazed to have even done that well.
(a gun that fires other, smaller guns full of jizz, Mon 17 Aug 2009, 1:36, 4 replies)

I don't know why some people become teachers.
If you don't like kids, what's the fucking point?
(Scritty Bakerman., Mon 17 Aug 2009, 4:54, closed)

Presumably...
...there was a point at the start of his career when he did like children (possibly a little too much), but then years of frustrating interaction with morons (and rejection) led him to the form I knew: a withered, bitter, indifferent bastard.
(a gun that fires other, smaller guns full of jizz, Mon 17 Aug 2009, 9:49, closed)

"generally act like monkeys in a variety of comically sized trousers "
Made me chuckle and earns a click.
(Crudler, Mon 17 Aug 2009, 22:16, closed)

Ta
muchly.
(a gun that fires other, smaller guns full of jizz, Tue 18 Aug 2009, 18:24, closed)