When teachers are human.

I have tremendous respect for teachers- they are right up there with cops and fire fighters doing amazing work you could not pay me enough to do. The vast majority of my teachers were amazing. They worked really hard for what was really low pay (Catholic school salaries) and I am grateful to all of them.

I read an article today about a teacher who bullied a student, and I thought about a math teacher I had in High School. Not a bully. A tough teacher who picked on me. Nothing was done like what the teacher in the article did (and in the interest of full disclosure, I was no darling in those days either) but it made life harder than it needed to be.

But my story has a satisfying ending:

I missed the start of the school year due to an extended holiday so when my uncle came to America for the first time, he would not have to travel alone. I arrived for my first day three weeks later than my fellow classmates. (In fairness to my parents, there was a teacher strike for some of that time, so the class time I missed was significantly less.) I was a decent student and figured I would catch up.

The math teacher gave a chapter test on my second day back, and I got a 47%- which I thought was pretty good considering having only a day to learn the material. Have I mentioned that math was never my strong suit?

Anyone who failed the test had to stay after school and correct it using the textbook and class notes until they achieved a passing grade (70%) so I was there for a while. When I finally finished and the teacher reviewed it for accuracy and gave me permission to go, her parting words struck me.

"I guess that will teach you to stay in Ireland."

As the school year progressed, Math continued to be a struggle. I failed the first semester with a 67%- the first time I didn't earn at least 2nd honors since I started High School. And I really got the feeling she picked on me. I dreaded going.

But maybe she picked on everybody and I was just more sensitive.

"Nope," my good friend Frank assured me at lunch one day. "She is definitely picking on you."

So it wasn't all in my head. And really, there was nothing to do about it because I didn't want to be moved to a different class.

This was an amazing teacher- I struggle with advanced math on my best day, and this teacher was able to deconstruct the hardest problems so that we could see how to proceed and get to the answer. Other friends taking the same course with a different teacher were struggling and we would face state exams at the end of the year. We had to know the material. I stayed put and worked to improve my grade and learn the material.

Things came to a head in the Spring. I was in school with a low grade fever because I was on attendance probation and could not miss any more days. When I got to Math class, I was struggling to follow along- it was warm in the room (A/C was not a feature at the school) and at some point I set my head down on my desk.

I got detention for sleeping in class.

Okay.

I got to the detention room after school, set my head down on the desk, and was told by the moderator that I was not going to sleep there like I had in math class. I struggled to stay upright and serve out my hour, knowing it would take an hour and a half to get home.

My math teacher arrived and pulled me out of detention to speak with me about my poor attitude. We went into the resource room and  once inside this person lit into me about being disrespectful. I answered that I wasn't trying to be disrespectful, I just felt sick.

Why had I not just stayed home?

I explained I was on probation and had to come no matter what. Which brought up the Ireland issue again. Our argument was taking on volume as it got more heated. I was told how I thought this person was a bad teacher and I interrupted.

"I have NEVER said you were a bad teacher, I would NEVER say that. Everyone knows you are the best math teacher in the school. I said you picked on me. Because you do- from the start of the year." 

I mentioned how my friends were struggling and worried, but how I felt confident I was in decent shape to pass the state exam. But I was picked on in class to the point that other students had noticed.

The year moved on towards summer. Class was better- it was still math but I didn't dread it. I sat for my state exam and felt confident leaving when it was over.  I ran into my math teacher and was asked how the exam was (our own teachers were not permitted to proctor our exams) and I said I was sure I had passed. I was congratulated- my teacher was genuinely happy for me.

I was happy for myself- this tough teacher got me through my last year of high school math and because of my state scores, my college exempted me from Math 101.