My 7 year old son was shot down by his 1st grade teacher
The american public education system in a nutshell tho
My third grade teacher actually had a conversation with my mom that I was reading to well and told her to stop having me read at home
My first grade teacher said that it was problematic that I was reading ahead of the rest of the kids in my grade and asked my parents to stop letting me read Harry Potter.
My fourth grade teacher thought it was wrong for my dad to be teaching me complex math because it fascinated me.
My elementary school music teacher hated the way my piano teacher taught me, and how I was more advanced than many of her students, and so told me, in front of my peers and my mother, that I was not good enough to participate in the state solo festival. She would not give me the form. We had to procure it from the district instead. She also hated how I excelled at reading and playing music for the recorder, and so she refused to give me my “belts” (colored beads to signify our level) and humiliated me in front of the class repeatedly.
My eighth grade algebra teacher used to fail me on take home tests because I didn’t solve problems exactly the way she showed us in class; I used methods that we had learned for other types of problems that also applied to these. She took points off my tests because I didn’t bring a calculator even though I got 100% without it, because I was able to do it by hand. I had to call my father, who is an engineer, down to the school to shout her down and give me back my A in the class.
My 10th grade Spanish teacher yelled at me in front of the class numerous times because she didn’t like the way I took notes; she thought that since I didn’t write every word off the slide, I wasn’t getting it all down. I had to explain to her that people who have taken advanced courses, like AP or IB classes, know that in a fast-paced learning environment you need to take quick shorthand notes that contain the necessary information rather than wasting time writing every word. She almost gave me detention.
My 11th grade English teacher gave me a poor mark on my first short essay because she believed that I was looking up unnecessarily complex words in a thesaurus to try and get better marks. The phrases in question: “laced with expletives” and “bombarded”. She wouldn’t hear any defense from me.
My 11th grade history teacher failed me on an essay about the 1950s because I misread the prompt. Except the prompt wasn’t words; it was a political cartoon. One of the figures was clearly president Eisenhower, but the other I couldn’t place. My teacher would not tell us who it was. I labelled him as the governor of Little Rock Arkansas during the integration period, and wrote an essay about that subject. My teacher said that no, it was Joseph McCarthy, and that there was a small picture of the man in our textbook and therefore I should have recognized him instantly. Half the class, apparently, did not.
The American school system is not here to educate us or to encourage us to learn; it’s here to keep us in line and silent. It’s here to keep us from deviating and being our own people and forming our own ideas. Don’t let it win.
I got really sick in 7th grade and was out of school for a month. I was able to make up all of my work except in my art class. She told me to write an essay “more than five pages” on Leonardo Da Vinci.
I compiled tons of index cards of notes for a week and then sat down to write it. It ended up being twelve pages, and because I had taken a lot of AP English classes since 5th grade, I wrote it in MLA format, like I thought essays should be, and had been doing for over 2 years. I handed it in two days earlier than the deadline she set me.
She took one look at my essay, told me it was plagiarized, way too long, and late. She then threw it in the garbage, in front of my class, grabbed me by the arm, and drug me into the hallway. She used the entire lesson time to yell at me about following directions, not skipping school, and plagiarism. When the bell rang, she yelled at me for another 15 minutes because she missed her entire class because I, “couldn’t follow simple directions”.
I missed 10 minutes of my next class because of this and got yelled at by that teacher. I ended up going home hating school. It lit the fire under my already love hate relationship with school, that didn’t really go away, due to more teachers, in various grades, just like her.
I was friends with the janitor who rescued my essay from the garbage. He had read it and felt I should keep it. When he asked why I threw it away, I explained what happened. He went to the vice principal (who was filling in for the principal at the time), and explained it all. The vice principal, again, did nothing about it.
My mom ended up bringing in my stacks of index cards, outlines, drafts, research materials, etc and gave them to the vice principal as proof. He still did nothing. My mom ended up throwing them at my art teacher during parent teacher conferences a week later.