absepa — Oh, I welcome comments from older posts with open arms. I’m so sorry this happened to you and you can remember it so clearly. It’s inexcusable that a teacher would do something like this, and worse that it sounds like she held it against you. Some teacher, huh?”
OH GOD! Do I get an award for replying to this old of a post of yours???
I found your halarious website 4 hours ago and I can’t leave! For God’s sake lady, are you really posting from the local insane asylum? Tell the truth…seriously…HAVE YOU written a book, because, so help me Lord…I must get it NOW! (ok, I swear I never went to any Catholic schools, excuse the constant refrence to such a schooling! But I must tell you, one day in 4th grade my twin sister and I got caught switching classes after dressing alike. Only thing was, SHE 9the older and supposedly wiser of us) didnt listen when I said I would go to hers and my own English class as she would go to mine and hers Math class….the school developed a NEW plan of action after that dreadfully burnt into my memory day…if any sets of twins (there were 2 sets of us!) EVER were to come to school dressed alike again,our mother would be called and one of us would be forced to go home and change our outfits!..I get such pleasure out of dressing like my twin for 5-7 days every year in Twinsburg, Ohio for the Annual TwinsDays Festivals and at our AGE OF 58 years old now! …ok, I rambled, I just wanted you to know how much I love your site…I swear I am NOT stalking

absepa’s last blog post..Insert Obligatory “DWTS” Commentary Here

Handbag for life’s last blog post..Marc Jacobs Spring 2009 Bags

Your story made me want to cry. I’m glad the teacher was let go, but you still had to go through such an ordeal! Why to teachers do that?! They’re supposed to watch out for kids, not traumatize them. Kids are so vulnerable, as it is, what with all the bullying and hurt feelings from other children. That teacher was in the absolute wrong profession!

Thanks for sharing your story. I know this was a sad post, but there’s much more fun stuff in the Junk Drawer. Please come back!

Grade school was forgettable. I was an Air Force Brat, so went to 8 different schools in 6 years. Worst was a small town school in NC where I had a teacher who was into control. No one was allowed to leave her class and go to the bathroom, she specified when the breaks were. She also insisted everyone had to eat all the food on their plate at lunch. This was a problem for me, my mother was English, and I had never eaten southern food. Most I could stomach, but collard greens I could not take. I would give other kids my dessert to get them to eat my greens. One day the teacher caught me doing that, and went on a rampage. She got me a fresh plate of greens, and said I would sit there until I ate every bit. I sat there through lunch, and when the rest of the class let, she told me to sit there. I sat there for the rest of the day. Heard the bell ring, the buss leave. Everyone left and locked up the school. I don’t remember how late I was at the school, but finally my mother showed up with the police. Later I found out she had waited for me at the bus stop, then drove to the school, which was deserted and locked, then went to the police. I told her what happened, and the next day she came to school with me, went to the principle, and knowing her scared the living daylights out of him. The teacher was gone the next day, and no one tried to make me eat greens again.
Of course, if I hadn’t been the ‘good girl’ who never got in trouble, and always did what she was told, I wouldn’t have sat there all those hours. But I was, plus we were all terrified of this teacher.

I am not a blogger, but I love reading yours which I happened upon by reading my friend’s brothers blog which you posted on.

I so enjoyed this post. I have some traumas from school, but mostly because I had to follow behind my older brother who was not your average student! Trouble found that boy around ever turn.

I have two high lights to my traumas….

My mom drove me and my brother to school on my first day of “real school”. I was starting first grade, my brother was in fourth. My mom was not a hands on type of mom, she drove up, dropped us off saying “Jeff, make sure your sister gets to her room”, and off she went. My brother waves bye to her and turns to me and grabs me by my sweater and tells me “You better not let ANYONE know I am your brother” and walks off leaving me standing there. Thankfully a 5th grade crossing guard took pity on me….I spent the next two years there worrying I would run into my brother in the hallway and forget I am I not suppose to know him and die a painful death for that mistake.

Flash forward 9 years and the daunting task of starting high school…the same high school where my brother was accussed of flooding the gym (honestly that is one thing he did not do though!). First period is biology and I drew Mr. Grammer. Mr. Grammer was viewed as a grumpy old man and the hardest of all the science teacher. He also happened to be very large and sounded mean. He called role that day and comes to my name….”Davis?”. I respond “here sir”….to which I get…”Are you Jeff Davis’ sister?”….my immediate response was “No SIR!”. He knew better though and called me up to his desk after class and promptely informed me that I had better be NOTHING like Jeff. I assured him I wasn’t and ironically he was my favorite teacher of all time.

Just felt like sharing tonight and to tell you how I have truly enjoyed reading your blog!
Donna