Friday, January 21, 2011

The lasting effect of Mean Teachers

I have an embarrassing problem. Every time I talk to my teachers I cry. No matter what.
It doesn't matter what I'm talking to them about. I cry. This happened to me today as I went to
speak with my Spanish Professor after class. I just went to him for suggestions on how to improve
my speaking and comprehension and right as the first word came out. So did the tears. I had to
explain to him I wasn't really sad it was just a reaction I had and not to be alarmed.
When I was 7 and in 2nd grade, I had a mean teacher. Her name was Mrs. Holmes and she was extremely tall, pale, had dark black hair and would threaten to put her "mean witch hat" on. (Hence the picture of The Witches by Roald Dahl) She scared me, to say the least.
Growing up I was always very shy. I didn't like talking to 99% of adults. I preferred talking with kids my own size. My mom would have to force me to come out from behind her and say hi to anyone. However, until my 2nd grade year I liked my teachers. There was Mrs. Bigler my Kindergarten year and Mrs. Smith my 1st grade year; both of them were very sweet ladies and I remember admiring them, especially Mrs. Bigler.
I don't know how many of you remember taking STAR Testing growing up but it was one of those weeks set aside to test how smart the Sego Lily Children were and my class was on the Math Section. As we opened our test Booklets Mrs. Holmes warned us , "Do not go ahead on the test. Wait until I read the question aloud. Well I was doing well as she began the questions and I started getting really excited that I knew ALL the answers. I filled in the circles as neatly as possible and got very involved in the test so involved that I could no longer hear Mrs. Holmes reading them aloud. I just kept going! I was all alone in my own little 2nd grade STAR Testing Math World when all of the sudden, BAM, a fist Slammed down in front of my face. My eyes opened wide and off went the Mean Witch Holmes. Screaming about how I had disobeyed and ignored her instructions. These were true accusations; but I think with her extreme reaction she had confused me, a small, shy, 7 year old girl with an inmate. Thankfully, my mom walked by my classroom right at that same time Mrs. Holmes was taking out her anger on me. My mom walked in and took me from the classroom.
While it was awesome that my mom came just in time to save me from the crazy lady. The damage had already been done. From that moment on, teachers frightened me and anytime I had one on one talks with them, I would cry and I still do. It's completely embarrassing.
I'm not sure why I felt like confessing this to everyone but I did. It is kind of funny haha. Anyway, If you're a teacher. Take it easy on your students. Or they'll end up like me, A college student in a Spanish Class crying en Espanol to Senor Alba. Ay yai yai