The Need for Acceptable Teachers
Have you ever had an educational experience be so profoundly terrible that It loomed for most of your academic career? I have. Ms. Quinn’s teaching style, or lack thereof, for my third and fourth grade years – that’s right, I had her for two years, not Just one ” scarred me for much of my childhood. I didn’t do much to help my case, though. I set the record in the school for most number of tardiest in a year. I had thirty one tardiest in my third grade year and the front office lady was so nice that I probably should have had twice that.
Some of it was my mom’s and my fault, but most of it was Ms. Quinn’s fault. Ms. Quinn, pronounced “maize” because she was divorced (go figure), was not happy about the tardiest at all. She would sit me down and ask me whose fault it was that I was late and I would usually say my mom’s because I didn’t want her going after my sister and I surely didn’t want the wrath of Ms. Quinn thrown upon me. She was terrifying. It was Just kind of Ms. Quinn’s overall demeanor towards me during class that got to me. When we would do the monthly reading comprehension tests, she did anything but help me.
I kind of have this problem of hinging while I read, so I will get done with a paragraph and have a very vague recollection of what I had just read. In the past, most teachers would help me along the way during my explanation. Do little gentle reminders of what I had just read. Not Ms. Quinn. It was like talking to a brick wall. It was like if I got one of the questions right, a part of her suddenly died. She was the meanest person I think Eve ever run across. But, like I said earlier I think it was her overall demeanor toward me that turned me off of her. I remember one time she needed something from the back of the room.
Instead of just getting up and getting it, she decided to send me back to get it, knowing full well that I have tremendous anxiety around a lot of people. I didn’t know if it was in a cupboard on her desk or If It was Just sitting somewhere, but she kept saying, “On my desk, on my desk. ” Affably someone got tired of my not finding It, got up and got whatever It was. This was a very traumatic experience for me and Instead of Glenn me clear directions, she Just kept saying, “On my desk. ” This was made even worse by the fact that the girl I had a crush on, my best friend’s older sister, was sitting right there with all the kids.
The kids, all laughing, finally had to be calmed down by Ms. Quinn – who was also laughing! I felt horrible. That story is Just a summation of how I felt everyday going into that class. No wonder I couldn’t get out of bed when I would have that to look forward to everyday. Didn’t have to look forward to it much longer, though, when fifth grade rolled around. Fifth grade was the complete opposite of third and fourth grade. I had Ms. Kane. She was everything that Ms. Quinn was not: nice, caring, funny, pretty, and wise. She treated all her students the same and had a love for all of them. One day she brought her fiance©e to work.
He was color blind and swore that he TLD know what color her long, grey cabinets were. I had never heard of anyone having that before. That was Just one of the many things that I learned from Ms. Kane during her class. If that Is the only Quinn. I can recall one time some of the other students and I came in really loudly and angrily from recess. Ms. Kane sat us all down and had a nice, but stern, talk with us that we couldn’t be doing that. The other students and I felt so bad about the incident that we decided to get Ms. Kane a new stool (because she had been implanting that her stool was broke for a while).
We all chipped in and I have never seen a more appreciative, proud teacher than Ms. Kane on that day. That Just goes to show you – if you take care of your students, your students will take care of you. This is not Just a problem from my third and fourth grade years. This is a problem in every school, nationwide. The more schools can avoid teachers like Ms. Quinn, the better the chance they have of educating their students properly. Schools should be interviewing every teacher they have and ask themselves one question: is this a person I want representing my school. Because that’s what every teacher is.
A small piece of who the school is. And the more lousy teachers you have, the more people who represent your school in a negative way and the worse your education system is. Kids can help by telling their parents which teachers they don’t like – by telling them which ones aren’t nice, not telling them because the teacher gives a lot of homework. And parents can complain to the schools when they hear one horror story after another, which Ms. Quinn’s class certainly was. We can all do a little more to make sure that horrible teachers like Ms. Quinn never work in our schools.