The day I discovered WTF
We moved when I was 8 or so, and that meant a different school. Miss Swift was a teacher there, not having a class of her own, but just patching the gaps other teachers' time off created. I'd describe her as a born spinster - she mustn't have been long over 30 but she dressed like an old lady and looked and acted like the announcer from Acorn Antiques.

There are numerous odd, nitpicky and frankly bigoted things she did during my time there pretty much from when I arrived, such as bringing morning assembly to a halt during the lord's prayer because I wasn't holding my hands together in the correct cherubic-munchkin-on-xmas-cards fashion - quote "Someone doesn't know how to pray". I suspected even then that religion was bullshit, but at 8 years old I was too scared of the woman to point it out. The out-and-out oddest, though, was when we had a bloke from the RSPB (Royal Society for the Protection of Birds, for the non-brits amongst you) come to do a slideshow for our class and for some reason she did the talking. Whenever a bird like a stork or crane came on the screen, or any bird that doesn't tuck its feet into its feathers during flight, she added to the cue card's description a few words on her personal disdain for that method of flying and her preference for the tidier 'gear up' way. There were other scattered comments on plumage, but the feet thing was obviously a bugbear for her.

The class and the RSPB bloke exchanged looks a few times during the presentation, and I do really name it as the day I discovered WTF, because I don't remember experiencing it quite so strongly before as to identify it as a sentiment in itself. I mean, think about it - WTF did it matter to her/was she taking/must her homelife have been like/must the slideshow bloke have thought/was she doing in charge of us/do birds care anyway as long as we don't fuck them about? And that's just a few that occurred to me.

I often wonder what Miss Swift is doing now, and to whom.
(thatblokeoverthere not quite as much an arsehole as I thought, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 20:17, Reply)

bring back memories
ah the memories of secondary education in Cumbria - a chemistry teacher who was a local Liberal MP candidate but taught us the joys of making mustard gas in an experiment that went awry when the air extraction system vented the gas out of the top of the school block on a completely calm sunny day - said gas sank over the building and everyone had to close their windows to avoid going to hospital. He also loved to blow up plastic containers with a mix of potassium and water...

a head teacher who whilst teaching history heard a siren go off outside which triggered flashbacks of her wartime memories for an hour...

a maths teacher for one year who couldn't control anything or anyone, shouted wildly; he got punched out by a quiet lad who had nothing to lose (as the lads mum had married and american and he was leaving the country soon), got regulary locked in the supply cupboard in the class, and ran off to the head teacher at every other opportunity. I heard that each summer he'd spend voluntary time in the local psychiatric hospital and his crapness as a teacher being put down to an allergy to chalk dust.

Thank god I got to go to university where the tutors only problem was alcoholism
(cuckooland, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 20:16, Reply)

I used to have
an English teacher who was a very good teacher, but for some reason known only to himself would, at least once a year, bring a TV set and video recorder (an ancient Philips V2000) into the classroom and make everyone watch the movie 'Shane'. This wasn't part of the lesson plan, he just liked the movie...
( More tea vicar?, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 20:13, Reply)

Not really relevant, but:
There's a Birmingham-ese Chemistry teacher at my school who has major problems pronouncing people's names. This can be especially amusing given the large number of foreign guys.

At a lecture a couple of weeks ago, the task of the rolecall fell to him. A certain 'Shue Wang' wasn't there: he called out "Has anyone seen a chewy wang?" at least 4 times, before finally stopping and giving me a chance to breathe between the laughing.
(Hidden Dragon, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 20:11, Reply)

french teacher
my 3rd year french teacher was a bitch to me. She would blatantly give me work than anyone else.

This woman was an anorexic, she was sickly thin and after her husband died she became like that.

one day i stood up too her, scrumpling up my work and throwing it into the bin, I promptly got sent to my head of year and was ordered to go down to her room and apologise

I found her crying in her room because of the incident, I apologised and she shouted for me to go...
I ran out and told all my mates and we had a good laugh

she was found dead a few days later in her bath....

I often feel bad about doin that in her last few days of life.. then i carry on and have a chuckle
(mrjed, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 20:08, Reply)

Sister Eileen
I went to Catholic School and we had this one Sister, Sister Eileen. The school was gradually moving away from having actual Nuns teaching classes and Sister Eileen was the single hold-out. She was old, Bless her, but she was also nuttier than a fruitcake.

There are two things that come to mind when I think of her:

There was a student in my class, we will call him Todd C. Spenla (because I hate that guy) and every day, without fail, he would raise his hand and ask Sister Eileen the same exact question: "Sister, what does Anno Domine mean?" (it was a high school religion class) And every single day, as if it was the first time she had EVER heard the question, Sister would say "Well, Christopher (for that's the bastards middle name), Anno Domine means "the Year of Our Lord"." She would often preface it with a compliment on what a fine question it was. She apparently had no memory of the previous days identical inquiry.

The other thing was the way, in the middle of a lecture, her mind would just wander off and she would stand there blankly, literally in front of the class and pick her nose...and then roll it...there were few students brave enough to sit in the front rows of her classroom. Bless her.

Back of the Classroom Sean
( Citadel Because the world needs less morons, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 19:54, Reply)

Deviant teachers
Note; I am going to be very careful here as although the person concerned has been convicted I dont want to fall foul of the law.

We had a teacher in our school who was a psycho, pure and simple. He would throw chalk at you and swear in the local indigenous language. If you really pissed him off he would run over the room grab your arm by the wrist and bang your elbow down on the work bench really hard. It fucking hurt!

He was very fond of his "extra-curricular" activities which involved chess and healthy walks in the great outdoors and used to take young lads for trips here, there and every where, in his rather suspect van.

One day, in a class 2 years below me, someone wrote "Mr X Rapes" on his desk in 6 inch high chalk letters. He threw a cow! "outrageous liable!"

Which is odd as he was convicted for raping two girls, ages ago, recently. We secretly prayed to what ever passes as a Deity that he wasnt a bummer too!

edit. Oh I forgot he had an unhealthy interest in sweat. stead fastly refused to used antipersperants "not natures way". Would rub it all over his face, when he had a sweat on as it helped with "the disappation of body heat" He actually looked like Mr Milky from TMWHE
( Fire & Forget it's the only way to be sure, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 19:42, Reply)

Cover Teachers
I guess I was lucky...
The only really weird teacher I ever had was a gentleman called Mr Mead. He was covering for my normal science teacher who was on leave (she was lovely however).
Mr Mead was not lovely. To put it mildly he was a moronic arse who loved to pick on me.
There I was one day - sitting on my own by the window being quite 'boffinish' and working hard when I noticed him standing next to me.

"WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO???"

"Um.... I wasn't talking sir."

"YES YOU WERE - DON'T LIE TO ME!"

"But I'm sitting on my own - I wasn't talking to anybody!"

"LISTEN - MY TIME IS VERY VALUABLE AND IF I CATCH ANY OF YOU TALKING IN MY CLASS YOU WILL GO STRAIGHT INTO DETENTION."

"But I was NOT talking!"

"RIGHT YOU! DETENTION!"

"But!!??"

And now for his favourite phrase which he used at least 10 times every fucking lesson:

"BE QUIET! DON'T WASTE YOUR LIFE - DON'T WASTE MY TIME!"


What a cock.
Fortunately my head of year thought I was a lovely lad and let me off the detention! Woo!
(Biromunch, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 19:42, Reply)

Mrs. Creek May Very Well Be Looking At You.
Around 15 years old a new economics teacher joined our school called Mrs. Creek. She was a truly lovely lady with only a couple of tiny flaws. First off she was the most cross-eyed person I have ever seen. I'm not kidding, it was like she was having a staring competition against herself and the bridge of her nose was trying desperately to break it up.

It turns out that the old joke about the cross-eyed teacher not being able to control her own pupils is very true. One girl in particular, was getting progressively worse and worse. Finally, Mrs. Creek snapped and turned round, smouldering with furious anger. For a moment both of her wayward pupils swivelled in the right direction and both of them fell upon.....me.

I damn near shit myself under that gaze. And with it still burning into me she shouted "Marie for once in your life act like a lady and not like a lout!"

My jaw dropped open, everyone around me stifled their giggles, looking from me (six foot odd and built like a brick shithouse) to Marie over the other side of the room and finally back to the still staring teacher. For the next two years I was being constantly called Marie by my so called mates and was frequently reminded to start acting like a lady.

Her other minor flaw was her inability to face the right way. Top tip for budding teachers out there: if you're going to bend over to look at someone's work, do it when standing in front of them. If you do it standing behind or to the side then when you bend over you point your backside into the faces of those sitting in the next row back. Very important. If you fail to heed this advice then one of two things may happen (other than the obligatory farting noises every time you do it, of course).

Firstly, I may try and throw an empty tic-tac box at the class retard. It may arc gracefully during flight, spang off his desk and ricochet right up your arse. You are then forced to turn round and give the class retard an almost pitying look of grim acceptance.

Secondly, a witty friend of mine may tentatively reach out and make groping gestures just behind your unprotected bottom whilst quietly mouthing 'ooh' and 'ahh'. This second one becomes a lot worse if another mate grabs his arm and forcefully thrusts it foward so that he essentially gives the teacher a damn good fisting.

Sorry for the fisting Mrs. Creek, but for gods sake, two seconds is a long time to be known as Marie, nevermind two bloody years.
( Gleeballs is mostly made out of chocolate and hate., Wed 9 Nov 2005, 19:41, Reply)

Oh dear, I have a few!
We had Mr Everington, who was simply awesome. Would scare you to death if you dared cross him, but other than that, awesome. Would bring in his guitar (played infront of pink floyd before) and play us songs all lesson, and was just a really nice guy.

-

The more-than-awesome Mr Phillips; he had Bananaphobia (a real fear of bananas), which kind of tells you everything you need to know about the guy. My friend Sean put a banana on his desk after the gossip got around, and he refused to go in the room. We also squirted him with a fire-exstingisher through a keyhole once, that was fun.

-

Our art teacher had a nervous breakdown (I was proudly not responsible for this, we got on really well) in what seemed to be a few seconds - the result of which was her running out the room screaming. Oops.

-

The most bizarre so far has been an A-Level finance teacher; whenever he wanted people to be quiet he'd make a duck noise. To counter this I bought a duck-whistle. He then bought in a rape alarm, and would set that off; which just made people hate him.

He was usually joined by our Irish marketing tutor, who would literally drink vodka infront of us and skew and confuse us all day long. An example of his handwriting is here, where he finishes off with "Bye Slut". :(

-

My currently degree is quite normal; bar a tutor who is scarily akin to the nasty-guys from Dark City. He has the grin and gestures and everything. Help :(

BUT! Going back to school for the finalé;

"A 46-year-old father of three who worked by day as religious education teacher at Oakmead College of Technology in England was fired after ex-pupils recognized him at his night job as a male stripper. He claimed he needed the work to clear debts and his mortgage."

That was my PSE and RE teacher, the man who was incharge of teaching us about sex was a stripper. Hooray! He was fired, but appeared on Richard and Judy's morning show too once they found out!
( stevierar, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 19:40, Reply)

Did anyone have any 'normal' teachers?
I had the usual catalogue of weirdos. Usually the weirdos were the best teachers though.

There was Mr Haslam who only walked in straight lines, looking right ahead and only turning at 90 degree angles. He once fell down an open inspection hatch in a corridor because of his looking straight ahead walking thing. He was Australian and resembled a giant koala bear. Genuinely nice guy.

There was Mr Sparks who seemed weird to us at the time because he had a great sense of humour and talked to us like we were adults. On retrospect he was a top bloke, at the time though we thought that his lack of patronising manner was downright odd.

Our headmaster Mr Howe was certifiably insane and was not allowed to be left alone in a room with students or to administer corporal punishment (back when that sort of thing was allowed). We suspected that this was because he liked it too much but apparently it was because he once threw a typewriter at a kid. We all used to joke that he was mad and that his occasional absences for 'back-pain' were actually extended visits to the local mental hospital. Then we found out it was true! Joy!

As for corporal punishment and evil teachers, at a previous school we had a teacher called Mr Davis who used a riding crop to discipline us. Looking back on it as an adult, whipping little kids on the backside for any possible reason, like talking, getting maths questions wrong, having a pretty arse etc, seems to be a bit on the wrong side to me now. He sure seemed to get a lot of fun out of it though. Wanker. He beat, I mean taught, at a boys school in Hereford. Sue me bitch, I very dare you..
(Wascally Weasel now with 100% fewer jokes., Wed 9 Nov 2005, 19:35, Reply)

Sexual Chemistry
I had a teacher called Mr Sk**th, anyone who went to school in Mickleover should know him, he had a prosthetic rubber ear and used to get his jollies by thrusting his bits against one of those tables you get in chemistry labs (the ones with built in Bunsen Burners). Another male teacher used to wear his dead wifes 1970's trouser suits on a daily basis. Mentalists all of them!
( Ethel Le Crisp, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 19:31, Reply)

Various
Mrs W: was a convert to Catholicism, and regularly told me that she was praying for me. Harmless enough, but this was attached to the stories she told about being "trapped in a bubble of EVIL at university", and then how I was like her at university...

Mr D: both a Classics teacher and Deputy Head. Very strange split personality; as Classics teacher was incredibly enthusiastic, very funny, really rather camp: as Deputy Head was stern authority figure. He'd be in the middle of a great anecdote in class, see somone up to no good outside and flip into Deputy Head.

The supply French teacher - ours went on maternity leave. There arrived a woman with a mullet who would bring a guitar to lessons, sit on the front desk and sing French songs to us. I think we were too stunned to misbehave.

Dr H: actually a university tutor. It's educational, as a first year, to be sat in the pub having a quiet pint and watch as one of your tutors is becoming more and more agressively and incoherently drunk, until two other members of the department carry him home.
(mw, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 19:28, Reply)

I once had a teacher who seemed pretty normal
Until, that is, it became clear that he was going out with a 12 year old girl...
(Flabbergaster laughs at danger (and breaks all the rules), Wed 9 Nov 2005, 19:27, Reply)

our Religious Studies teacher made us watch some obscure old version of The Jungle Book, not less than five times during one year. He never made any attempt to relate it to religion.
( kingofpork is the king of pork, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 19:26, Reply)

Okay, we're into the big leagues now.
Another Mr D, again a cool guy, who was a history teacher. He was Irish, so among his outfits was a matching set of BRIGHT green socks and blazer which invariably clashed with the rest of his outfit. He was about eight feet tall and of very strange proportions, almost as if he had gigantism. His hands were enormous.

I noticed one day that his shirt had ripped and was held together with sticky tape. This would just be amusing evidence of an emergency repair, except that he wore the same taped-up shirt all the time without replacing it or fixing it properly.

He used to sing communist anthems at the top of his voice by way of illustration, and apparently in sixth form classes he used to teach whole lessons while lying on his desk and staring at the ceiling.
(The Ghost of Stephen Foster, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 19:17, Reply)

Next we have Mr F.
He was Dutch, by way of Norfolk, so he had the most mangled accent I've heard before or since. His name was pronounced with sounds that don't exist in English but for some reason he made us pronounce it in a simplified form.

What made him weird was the fact that he once told a story, over the course of two or three lessons, about how he used to be the crime-fighting sidekick of a man who'd learned from an old book how to give himself x-ray vision. If he was making it up - and it was pretty full of holes - then it was a spectacular ad-lib.
(The Ghost of Stephen Foster, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 19:10, Reply)

Me
I'm a teacher (8 year olds) and I get kicks out of misleading my class. Last week on the coach back from a swimming lesson, one of the kids commented that the coach seat was "furry". I said " Yes they are made out of rabbit fur", then turned my face to the window and smirked as the fact was passed down the coach and they all exclaimed their dismay.
(khd, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 19:09, Reply)

Next:
Mr D, quite a typical "cool teacher" type, bit of a nutter, highly liberal, with an ability to keep a class fascinated. Partly this was due to the fact that he had an extra, prehensile thumb on each hand.
(The Ghost of Stephen Foster, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 19:06, Reply)

Okay, moving up the ladder of weirdness:
Mr M, who was an utter prick and looked exactly like Lord Fear, the villain in Knightmare. Bit of a megalomaniac, incapable of being humane for ten seconds at a time, and addicted to caffeine on a scale you would not believe. He ALWAYS had a mug of coffee, and his pokey little head-of-year office was like a coffee jar graveyard.
(The Ghost of Stephen Foster, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 19:04, Reply)

My teacher in Year 3 was pretty strange looking back
His name was Mr Tregascis so he asked us to call him 'Mr T.' He used to regail us with summarys of last nights Red Dwarf instead of work, said his friends called him 'kat' and they once went on a road trip to see the sun rise at John O'Groats and see it set on the same day at ands end. Ohh and when he got cross with us he used to either jump on the table or bang his head on the blackboard, and i mean bang it, he dinted it once and head to explain what happened!

The last i heard about him a visit to Thailand has left him unable to work :S
(Pimms'N'Lemonade thinks you are a twat, prove me wrong., Wed 9 Nov 2005, 19:02, Reply)

eggs........eggs........eggs........eggs
we used to have a geopgraphy teacher called Mr Brain. For some reason, kids used to go round to his house on Mischief night (or any night) and lob eggs at his house.

Rumour had it that someone started shouting "EGGS" in class, resulting in said teacher running out crying

ho hum
(a monkey bit my bottom, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 19:02, Reply)

kids are weirder
we had the one with the history of cottaging, the one(s) who watched us in the showers after PE, the one who was jailed for fondling boys in his flat and the one who was charged with murdering his ex-girlfriend.

but the one who received the most constant abuse was the one who wore sandals, had a funny haircut and a weird voice.
( harryfreeze Ignore, Hide, I like this!, Reply, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 19:01, Reply)

We had quite a parade of loons at my grammar school.
Let's start with an easy one: Mr W, maths teacher and all-around lovely guy, who was convinced that colourblind people couldn't see green at all. Like, green was invisible to them. So he apologised every time he wrote in green on the whiteboard, thinking us colour-impaired types saw nothing. Yet still he kept buying and using green markers.
(The Ghost of Stephen Foster, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 18:58, Reply)

Estranged
See below: "he just calmly lay on the floor with his eyes shut until everyone shut up in disbelief"

Its interesting these odd ways teachers find to regain control of the class... We all walked into one yr 10 english class to find the teacher, Mr Howat, sat on his chair on top of his desk, just silently, surveying the room. Needless to say most people just sat down and didn't say a word.
He also tried standing at the front dribbling a basket ball! Quite an odd man.
(The Duke of Pontefract, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 18:55, Reply)

french language teacher
I had a teacher who was loved by all the students just because of the fact he was so wierd. Most of the odd things he did i cant clearly recall, but I will never forget his creative way of teaching us the french word for danger. Him climbing out the window, then hanging onto the 3rd story ledge repeatedly shouting to the class, "Je suis en peril! Je suis en peril!". He later retired happily without any sort of incident, awesome guy.
(tronfunkenblows, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 18:52, Reply)

Rambo Rustidge
One of the History teachers at my secondary school (possibly still there) was a Captain in the TA. Not content with keeping the military just for weekends, he filled all his cabinets on one side of the room (judging by other teachers these were reserved for text books) with war memorabilia. These included rusty old bayonets, a german officer's pistol from WW2 and an old grenade. Rumour has it someone in my sisters year took the grenade out of the cabinet and threw it across the room, only for Rambo to dive on the ground (only half seriously).

He wasn't really weird, he was actually quite cool. He was my form tutor in year 8 and everyone answered the register with "sir, yes sir!", which delighted him.
He also listened to the rugby during lessons, and never used to read peoples work, he'd just scan it and give it a tick.

One final story:
The sex education teacher was in a meeting during one of our weekly Personal and Social Education lessons, so Rambo uttered the immortal words to the class "I'll have a go at it if you want, some body nip down and ask her if she's got a book or something!" Genious.

Oh Yes:
His name was Ken because apparently he had an american girlfriend who called him Kenny Honey. He met her in LA where he was pistol whipped in a bar. He used to show us how his jaw would crack because of it. In later years this cracking was the result of a rugby injury!

He also fancied the teacher in the room next to his... Well who didn't!
(The Duke of Pontefract, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 18:50, Reply)

A couple
First off: Mr.Dean, "Mr.Bean" double, year 7 french teacher "let go" for hitting a kid. Used to give us a grand total of ONE chewitt for getting a 100% test score.

Second Off: Mr.Twigger, who's eyes immediately fell to chest level as soon as he entered a room with at least one girl. Quite a tall fellow, so he'd often stand over them while giving them "help". Hightlights include getting so stressed with a rowdy year 10 lot that he just calmly lay on the floor with his eyes shut until everyone shut up in disbelief.

Third Off: Mrs.Brady, the "baldy baby lady", bald year ten french teacher, 4ft tall, wore pajamas at all times, with giant moon earrings (santa ones at christmas). Highlights include a paper aeroplane flying in front of her face while she was writing on the board and her sending out a totally innocent lad despite pleads of innocence.

Fourth Off: Mr. Alf Hickey, supply teacher from Australia, prone to throwing chairs at unrully kids, chucking glasses of water over unrully kids, and teaching us a totally random fucking course for 6 months that had nothing to do with what we were supposed to do. Highlights include, praising some "restickable glue" as though it's the messiah, then having to rip the bits of "glued" paper apart. Getting sacked and stealing 10 laptops upon his exit.
(doris_day, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 18:44, Reply)

Weird Teacher Awards
/delurk + first postness
^ because there's finally a QOTW that applies to me =D

Anyway.

I'm 16 and have had my share of weird-ass teachers throughout my ever-continuing educational career; being American in the bilingual stream of a Dutch school helps (as Dutchie schools tend to be a hell of a lot more liberal and open and generally cool about a lot of things than most American schools).

Some of my favorites (any current students of the Lorentz Lyceum will most likely immediately snap to attention):

The Award for Most Utterly and Paedophilically Freaky Teacher goes to Mr. Meijer (pronounced Meyer). We only had him for one year, which was a good job, as it's only a matter of time before he's sacked for doing something unspeakable to a girl in the storeroom.
Anyway- he teaches Woodshop and rumor has it that he was sacked from his old job as Biology teacher at another school because he had a wank in the john, came back and stuck his thousands of little mini Meijers under the microscopes for the kids to look at (and anyone who's had class from him wouldn't put it past him).
Something with a bit more evidence to support it was his behavior towards this utterly hot, rather large-breasted girl called Maria (who was 12 at the time...). It was the middle of winter and Mr. Meijer had a thick sweater on when he said to poor Maria "It's hot in here, Maria, why don't you take off your jumper?"
*shudders*

The Award for Teacher With The Biggest Cojones goes to none other than Mr. Houben (pronounced Frenchly). He admitted to a class full of rowdy 15- and 16-year-olds that he likes guys. I mean, here's me, the only one with the balls to actually ask him "Look, sir, here's the thing: Everyone kinda wants to know and I'm the only one out of all these kids with the balls to ask you, so yeah: what's your sexual preference?" and he utters the legendary phrase:
"Yeah, I'm gay."
How cool is that?? He's a really nice guy, by the way, not dirty and paedo like some other gay teachers I've been reading about; used to give us French lessons on a voluntary attendance policy and is also really young, which gives him an nicely unobstructed perspective when it comes to dealing with kids. Oh, and since he's a sensitive guy, all I had to do was have a slight breakdown in order to get out of doing an assignment (the breakdown was genuine and I only found out I had gotten out of doing actual work at the end of the year, so there).

The Award for Red-Blooded, A+ 100% Nutter goes to Mr. Verbeek (pronounce the 'ee' like the 'ey' in 'hey'). He regularly makes goodhearted derogatory remarks towards women in a class with at least four raging feminist 16-year-olds (most of which are really hot and think they're better than everyone else... pity really), is quoted as saying "I like all kinds of music, from rock to hip-hop to classical- all except K3." K3 is a Dutch trio of young women who sing kids' songs. "What, K3? Bend over!!" He then proceeded to mime things concerning a whip and spanking.
Yeah, he rocks. Nuts, but cool. He used to give regular 45-minute-long lessons on how to properly clean a blackboard, and once in the middle of a lesson screamed "FIRE DRILL!!", flung a window open, jumped out (his regular classroom is on the ground floor) and ran all the way around the building before coming back in and panting "You... all... got burned alive."

The Award for Coolest Older Dude Teacher ('cause I can't think of anything better) goes to Mr. Evertse, yet another French teacher. He also teaches Philosophy, is a really, really nice, intelligent and likable guy in general, and is the only teacher who consistently gives me dap (which is a slightly hip-hop-culture-oriented greeting involving a low five and smacking the knuckles of the same hands you used to give the low five together). He's so cool.

The Award for Whackest Math Teacher goes to poor Mr. Mafakheri. He was small, Iranian and couldn't speak Dutch very well, had the occasional fit of rage at some of the more dickheaded students, and once kicked a bin (a whole bin, pity it was only plastic though) at this dude with an overly large forehead who was being disruptive. He would tell you your test scores (and pretty much anything else) with a thick, thick accent (my name is Cameron and Dutchies grade you from 1 to 10 instead of F to A): "Cameroon, yoo haff a siex comma half" (but then in Dutch. You get the idea). We kind of teased him into quitting and I sort of feel bad for him now... Ah well, chances are he's in a better place ^.^

Finally, the Award for Coolest English Teacher ('cause I've had a lot of them) goes to Mrs. Kalkman. She's one of the few teachers that is able to be authoritative and treat her students as equals at the same time; she also let us watch 8 Mile in class and had us write raps as a curriculum assignment. Me and several then enemies (my taller opponent then is one of my best friends now) even got to have a battle ^.^

So yeah. Other mentionables are Mr. van der Kuil, an Economics/Management & Organization teacher who described his own fits of anger as being occasionally satanic; Mr. Strijker, a Biology teacher who thinks he's the shit and simply isn't; Mr. Grobbe, another Biology teacher who really is the shit, and really funny to boot; and Mrs. Healing, our now-retired first year English teacher who was your stereotype English lady. You could almost imagine her sitting at home sipping tea with twenty cats. Nice lady, though.

Also, we've had a number of memorable Latin teachers. I quit Latin last year because it was simply *that* boring, but in the three years I followed the course I was taught by:
Mr. Arts, the man with unspeakable breath who kept blowing off tests by forgetting to bring the papers into class and cancelling lessons to go the dentist; Mrs. Rault, the crazy lady who would give us a pop quiz every Thursday and was generally harsh; and Mr. Cloosterman, the man with no social skill whatsoever who liked carrot cake and would terribly mangle students' names: Fokelien became Kokelien and Sietske became Fietske. That last one could never decide if he liked or hated me, but on the assignment I did to round off my prematurely ending Latin course I got a big, fat 10 ^.^

ps. No apologies whatsoever for length, girth or volume. It's my first time and I've been told it's exceptional for my age ^.^
(CK is rocking out near you (cosmologically speaking), Wed 9 Nov 2005, 18:34, Reply)

Mr Conde
If you know him, click "I like this", you know you love the flaming bin, the brown tiles and the 3 legged chicken!
(carpediem, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 18:28, Reply)