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Poking idiots in the eye since 2002
...it's mocktacular!
The recent misspelled name post reminded me of this gem. Lets go… 
30th-Jul-2008 05:47 pm
The recent misspelled name post reminded me of this gem.

Lets go back 20 some-odd years to kindergarden. We were learning how to write our names. My name is spelled Jaime, as opposed to Jamie. Not only did the teacher tell my I was spelling my name wrong, she called my parents and threatened to fail me because I refused to spell my name Jamie. When my parents told her my name is in fact spelled Jaime, she refused to listen. She even took the time to yell at my parents and tell them they were wrong for teaching me to read and write before kindergarden(both activities that I loved to do when I was that young). The teacher then told the principal that my parents were undermining her teachings and filed a complaint with the superintendent of the district. This resulted in a meeting between the super, my parents, and the teacher. All was resolved when my parents showed my birth certificate that in fact had my name spelled Jaime.

It boggles my mind that the teacher had to go that far just to be told by her bosses' boss I had in fact been spelling my own name right. Then to tell my parents it was wrong to teach me basic reading and writing? I mean come on. Seriously.
Comments 
31st-Jul-2008 03:57 pm (UTC)
That right there is total awesome.
31st-Jul-2008 06:51 pm (UTC)
Most of my high school and college teachers were total awesome. The few bad apples never lasted beyond the school year. The English teacher in the story and the Chemistry teacher, who was a rabid Seventh Day Adventist (Well, that's what he claimed to be, I have no idea what Seventh Day Adventists are really like) who used his class as an excuse to try convert people and pass out those little pamphlet comics were the worst in high school (the chem teacher got sacked when a parent complained to the school that her son, who was brainwashed, literally, by said teacher, was terrorizing them at home with condemnations that the mother and his younger sister were going to hell for the sin of Eve or something equally insane. I think the school pushed to have that teacher's license revoked.) First and second year high school was... stormy, to say the least, thanks to those two teachers...

The professor who gave me a lower grade because I destroyed all her idealistic imaginings about Socialist society (I lived in East Berlin as a kid) AND because I wasn't into her brand of rabid, man-hating feminazism was the most pathetic one in college, but the actual cake goes to the Statistics professor who took extra pleasure in informing me that I wasn't going to graduate because I failed her exams - the last semester where thesis also figured in (I wasn't good at rote formula memorization, and this professor wanted us to memorize what the other teachers were allowing students to use notecards for). This was the school year where a thief had stolen all our tuition money the day before enrollment. (We suspected it was our relative, but we never had proof, and we never told my Dad, who had scraped together all the funds he could to send us to school. We pawned a lot of jewelry; most were heirlooms from my grandmother but came up a kid's tuition short.) It was my friends from abroad who sent me to school (I was intending to drop out that semester and they wouldn't let me.) and I only remember things going dark. My classmates later said I was found in the stairwell leading up to the roof, crying. My department head was utterly livid when she found out; she got even madder when she found out I'd failed the exam by half a point. She filed a complaint against the teacher and the teacher was made to give make up finals for all the students who failed the exams by a point or two, AND to allow the use of formula notes. The math teacher's marriage, apparently, was going badly, and she was taking out her rage on a number of students. I graduated.
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