reminds me...
of a teacher I had as a wee bairn - Miss Oates, was her name. This was before I was hauled out of the state "education" system and sent to Public school, so would be around 1983/4 time.

Picture the scene - a class of shiny-faced seven year olds, eager to learn new things and swap sandwiches at lunchtime, shelves of books to read, blackboard, various oddments used to engage the kitten-like attention of a class of small kids...and her. Late 30s, but trying to look late 20s. Dresses like a middle class hippy - more Peter, Paul and Mary than Janice Joplin. Bowl-esque hair, flowery skirt, gypsy top, slouch boots and an acoustic guitar. To teach maths.

In the end, our lessons were a round of "Kum by ya", maybe a "puff the magic dragon" and a brief instruction on how to make horse-y "clip-clop" noises with our hands. I learned my times tables at home and was then left to mark the other kids' work whilst she simpered in the corner.

The headmistress had been told by the Local Education Authority that she couldn't be fired, either - only moved to another school, or the Unions would sue. I presume the silly bitch is still ruining childrens' minds to this day.
(Chad, Wed 19 Nov 2008, 11:30, Reply)