Did anyone have any strange/eccentric teachers/lecturers?

Question

If you can tell me good stories I'll tell you about mine.

Ok, I got some good ones...

One of my teachers in high school used to shout at people for swinging on their chairs. One day he fell off his for swinging on it.

My chemistry teacher set fire to his sleeve once.

Another lecturer was reading Vietnamese once and said f*ck instead of Phuc!

Answer 1

Yes. And it is to them I owe my only genuine "education".

Today I'm a professional writer. Nothing flashy, but I'm quite good at it, it pays well, I love it and I don't have to stand around in water lifting heavy things for a living.

In 1973 I was a junior high school kid taking my first Journalism course for no reason beyond what I reasoned would be an "easy 'A'" (I was good in English and Lit, but not much else).

The very first day of that class, the teacher--a man whose name I sadly forget--started right-off behaving as if he didn't like me. He made loud protests that he "had heard all about me" and knew what I "was up to". It was freaky and in no small way, scary.

Finally he walked up to my desk and said "Okay. You and I have to speak. Outside".

Trembling and confused, I followed him to the hall outside the classroom. He smiled at me and laughed quietly. "Look, sorry," he began, "but I need your help in doing something for the class. Your other teachers have already told me what a gifted writer you are so I decided to pick on you..."

He went on to explain what he had in mind, why, and how I would help. I was blown away: this was my first encounter with a brilliant teacher who was bringing actual IDEAS to the classroom. I relaxed, in fact I was flattered and overjoyed, and agreed to the terms.

We walked back in together, him giving me a less-than-gentle push as we did. I returned to my seat, now smirking at my classmates like a real delinquent who was quite enjoying pissing this guy off.

As the teacher went on a ramble about some blah-blah-blah about the duties of a good reporter, I started making faces at the other kids and making noise: dropping my pencils, yawing loudly and so on.

Suddenly he threw the book he was holding to the floor with angry force and stormed towards my desk. He grabbed me by the lapels, lifted up my entire body (he was a big guy) and "slammed" me up against the blackboard.

"Remember, when you hear it, scream" he whispered in my ear. BAM! He drove his elbow into the blackboard just beside my head, making it look, for the class, as if he had just hit me, hard, in the face. "OOhhhh!" yelled I, letting the distinct sound of pain trail off to a whimper as I sank to the floor.

He took me by the fabled "scruff of the neck" and began leading me out of the classroom. I covered my right eye with both hands and maintained a hunched, wounded position. "ALL OF YOU! I'm going to the Principal's office. While I'm gone I want TOTAL SILENCE in this room and in that silence I want EACH of you to write down what you just saw. And I'm going to collect what you've written the second I come back SO DO IT!"

Slam went the door and he led me, both of us still "in character", down the hall and around a corner.

When we were out of site, he silently signaled me to follow him back to the classroom door. We listened. There was a hushed sort of hubbub, pierced by a few voices of reason who said, basically; "shut up and write 'cause that's what he told us to do!" The voices quieted, one at a time, and we snuck softly back around the corner in the hall.

We shared a soft laugh. He shook my hand. "You're okay, right?" "Fine". "Then stay here, here's a hall-pass. Count to maybe three hundred and come back in. And when you do, walk right up to me
and we'll high-five, right?" "Right".

I stayed in that hall well beyond the three-hundred count. I was daydreaming about a brighter future; about how school, at least as one got older, could get really cool. About how I was going to be a teacher as awesome as this guy one day.

Opening the door, the entire class looked at me in shock. I walked briskly towards the teacher and a collective gasp echoed through that room the likes of which has yet to be replicated by any audience at any horror movie I've seen sense.

Stomping directly up to the teacher in the most menacing way my small body could conjure, we both burst out in laughter, slapped hands, put our arms around one another like brothers and faced the struck-dumb class.

As I retried to my desk, he said "Now let's read your observations aloud, and discover what you all saw the same way or differently. Journalism is about facts. FACTS. And any policeman can tell you how five people witness the same thing will usually describe five different events..." And so on, and so on.

Maybe the coolest part, at least that day, was being the only one who didn't have to write anything.

That ten minutes changed my life. And I wish there was some way to track that teacher down and thank him. In fact maybe now I'll try to do just that.

The very least I owe him is that effort.

Thank you, so very much, for this question.

Oh, one last thing: I did end-up getting that 'A'.

It just wasn't as "easy" as I thought it would be.

Answer 2

Not all the students and all the teachers are involved in it. Some students make fun of certain teachers, and I have also done it. I had a teacher, as soon as he enters the class room, every one makes a huge noise. He liked it also. The whole school knows in which class the particular teacher is taking class now. At the same time there are some strict teachers. No one dare to make any gestures or sounds in his class. And the students give nick names to most of the teachers, that is also a trend. And the teachers would have heard their names too, that is interesting. After all, every teacher knows how the students treat them, because once they were also students.

Answer 3

I had a lecturer who was very eccentric. He had no watch; instead he had a wind-up alarm clock tied to his wrist. He taught computer science.

Another one insisted that the third and seventh seats in the fourth row remain empty.

And finally - when the college switched to an online grading system, one technophobic lecturer gave me his code and password, and everyone's grade to enter. Our section had the highest number of "A" grades in the school.

Answer 4

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Answer 5

My English teacher last year was quite strange. She was in her late forties and still lived with her mum, and managed to turn even the most mildest and innocent poems and stories into ones involving, sex, blood and war, which was quite amusing.

She was still a pretty good teacher though.

Answer 6

i had a history teacher mr mckenzie who would do all of the lesson either sitting with his feet up in the window ledge or better yet at the back of the class playing his guitar singing all of the lecture to you,he was quite cool really compared to the other history teacher who was boring ,perhaps it was because the class i was in was for the dafter history kids an he thought we never had a chance so he didwhat he had to do to get through the lesson!

Answer 7

I had a lecturer who was into environmental issues. Anyway one day there was a delivery man who asked me where her office was as he had a package. Inside the package was a live pigeon. I went to her office as I had to discuss an essay with her. The pigeon was there, and some bird feed. But I didn't ask anything and she didn't say anything.

Answer 8

I had a biology teacher (of whom we were all rather fond, really) who once asked me, in all seriousness, if I had ever fought the Japanese! When I replied no, on account of not actually being alive during the war, he wasn't even slightly fazed and just continued to relate anecdotes about jungle fighting.

Answer 9

Tv set is produced to the lowest common denominator - i.e., the average IQ of the general public, whereas a written book is written to the highest common denominator

Answer 10

I love watching TV, The pet is enjoyed by me shows, the medical shows and the Judges and court docket shows

Answer 11

Yes I had a very srang teacher once her name was Miss Mackie and she did not let you go to the bathroom or get a drink. And if you would answer an answer wrong she would have a fit.