So we’ve all had it, right? The regular teacher’s absent so you get a cover teacher whose first line to the class is usually something like “I’m not actually a Biology/French/Politics teacher but I know how babies are made/can speak a few words that I picked up when I was there last summer, although most of them are chat-up lines/know who the current Prime Minister is.” The kind of thing that makes the class look at each other with rolled eyes and think, this could be fun. The whole lesson gets wasted with half the kids messing around, the other half not understanding a word and the teacher eventually putting everyone in detention.
And then there’s the times where you have your normal teacher, but you end up being so glad they don’t teach another subject as they’d be totally awful. Like my English teacher, who managed to miscount my coursework and give me two extra marks, not that I’m complaining because it makes getting an A just a little bit easier.
And then there’s the ones where you end up wondering how they got employed for the subject in the first place. Take my year nine ICT teacher. She walked into the room and asked us, a class of fourteen-year-olds, how to turn on the computer.
Luckily most of the teachers aren’t too bad. But it’s things like these that make you desperate to leave school, if only to regain some sort of sanity.