My maths teacher in school hated me, there was something about me that the woman couldn’t stand. In the first couple of years of secondary she was my Form Tutor. I’m going to call her Mrs Mental as her real name sounds pretty much the same. Her disregard to my existence was unavoidable in the first 2 years, and she literally couldn’t ignore me in the years our school moved and she became my maths teacher. She hated people and children even more, being a teacher myself years later I believed that a teacher needed to like both in order not to hate themselves.
Mrs Mental was the top set maths class teacher. I was good at math and worked well when I wanted too, I got good grades in tests and was a practical problem solver (I must say I still like to think I am). She taught well, clear and direct instructions, perfectly laid out on the SMART board and I presume she never skipped a lesson plan alas her unfriendly and aggressive approach was what went right through us. We behaved better when she didn’t shout or scorn just to prove a point.
Her favourite trick of the day, every day was to give out detentions that no one ever turned up to. She had a knack for making kids disappear. Mrs mental personally made making her ‘go mad’ amusing. Not too difficult, no too mad, just right was the trick.
Being a talker I would be picked on, now to be fair everyone spoke but it was always just me who was told to ‘be quiet!’ Even if I wasn’t talking, now that’s not fair is it?
May I add there is architect working here the in this company who walks, stands and talks like her and she just walked past. She never does, do you thinks it’s Mrs Mental haunting me over seas?
She would only ever eat Vegetarian Pot Noodles in school, she wore ankle length skirts with a suit jacket, there was always a big bunch of caretakers keys in her hand no matter where she went, she had fluffy shoulder length hair with small round glasses, she tapped a pen on the table whenever she spoke and would say ‘you listen to me’ so often you never listened, she would always give kids running down the corridors detention knowing they would still run and she always opened doors with her shoulder (she would dive into doors shoulders first, I have never seen her use just her hands to push open a door). She also liked reminding us we were stupid and poor as she, with an Indian twist to her English accent would tell us that her son (the same age as us) was doing well with the exam preps, he ‘iz govin to become a proofesssor in maafs.’ We kept being reminded of her son’s private education, dumb snob.
In my maths exam, she actually tapped/smacked me on my head telling me she had taught me the equation for the question a hundred times, knowing pretty well that I would not respond or back chat. I never got a chance to get her back for that one, was a shame. I can imagine her sniggering like Mutley. An old skool ‘hit and run’ technique formulated by an old skool math teacher.
I enjoyed being a handful I was at school though, it made my school life a lot more interesting and tolerable.
I had pot-noodles for lunch, bless her, she still comes to mind.