In the midst of the dreaded exams it brought me back to my days at the wrong end of a pointy stick. Yup school. The best days of your life? Aye right. It seems somethings don’t change though and that every school still has the ‘’weird teacher’
Yup. We had more than one. We had a glut. A herd. A brace. A collection. A hump. Yes a hump of weird teachers.
No name no pack drill but.
English Teacher – the living embodiment of a Giles Grandmother – see picture
A chain smoker who handed our jotters back with burn holes and ash smears. She used to shout at me when I wasn’t even in the class and once threw the wooden blackboard duster at my chair only to be told I was off that day. A real peach.
Art teacher – spent a lot of her time locked in a cupboard weeping.
Not helped the day I took in a life size python – rubber – and draped it over her desk.
Once upended a paint pot on a girls head just cos her perspective was wrong. HER PERSPECTIVE? Jeez.
History teacher – yawn – highly strung.
French teacher – we suspected of being a Russian spy cos she wore a furry hat – early signs of an overactive imagination.
Latin Teacher – thicker specs than the thickest specs you have ever seen. He wore his gown around the school – not his dressing gown his –honest I graduated from University gown. This was a small school on the north east coast of Scotland not Oxford. A friend met him years later under the pseudynm Mabel. A cross dressing Latin teacher.
The rest? Had faded in my memory no name no packdrill and frankly no education.
