Oops! Missed yesterday. With all the superbowl hoopla, it slipped my mind. Oh well. Follow that with the fact that I actually fell asleep right after half-time, and there was no saving grace. So here I am this evening trying to get this in.
The prompt for today was describe your worst teacher. Couldn’t resist. Mr. Bradshaw, algebra in 9th grade (I think, I don’t know, it was a long time ago). Mr. Bradshaw had the biggest beer belly I have ever seen to date. He was also very tall, so he was very intimidating. There was a girl named Cindy who sat next to me, and one day, she made him so mad by asking a question he’d already answered (she apparently wasn’t listening when he had already given the answer) that he grabbed a handful of her hair right at the base of her neck and jerked her head around as though her neck were a limp string. I’ll never forget that as long as I live. She was fair skinned, so when she turned beat red of embarrassment and pain, it seemed extreme (although considering what happened, maybe it wasn’t).
Everyone in the class stared. No one said a word. You can bet no one asked a question. And because that was when teachers could do whatever they wanted, he was never reprimanded. I don’t remember anything else about him, other than my general impression of him was of a brainless brute who didn’t particularly like kids. I’m really glad we don’t have teachers like that now (at least not that I know of). I repeated remedial algebra in College. I didn’t feel better about my own abilities until I took Calculus with analytical geometry, and got an A.
So that is the worst teacher I ever had, and possibly the worst day in high school I ever had. Thank God it’s over.
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