Archive for the ‘school’ Category.

Cruel Letter to My High School Trigonometry Teacher

Mr. J——,

I do not believe that this letter will do any good whatsoever, because you will never change your ways, no matter who tells or how logically they present their arguements. First of all, you give too much Homework. But you already know that. You think everyone else’s lives are as dull and meaningless as yours, so you expect them to have no life other than math. Next, you don’t give us time to study or start the HW in class because you spend too much time telling asinine stories and making idiotic gestures during your “lectures.” I know your entourage of butt kissers (Tony —–, Dawn —–, Katie ——-, and others) encourage you, but don’t take it out on the rest of us. I don’t really need or desire to know about (1) your trashy car (2) Your pimple on your nose (3) lewd and lascivious pictures of you with students (4) Anything else you’ve said which I have blocked out of memory. Also, you waste time like you lived forever: Jumping up & down demonstrating a “hyper”bola, writing 22 examples of words with the prefix “para” (3 would have been sufficient). You treat the class as if we were all morons like yourself. You don’t need to spend 15-20 min explaining yourself that 1 = sin 3 1/sin = 3. 3-4 min would have been fine. Also, we are daily infuriated by your ridiculous names for formulas & such. You must want us to look like idiots in college saying “meaning of life”, “Freddy Krueger problems”, “Party Formulas”, and all your other stupid nicknames. Stop being so condescending to our intelligence. We’re obviously quite a bit smarter than you were in High School (you admitted it.).

Also, I don’t think I deserved the same snide treatment as those who habitually came in late. I was late 3 or 4 times, maximum, always because the bus was late or some Other reason beyond my control.

Also Write Bigger On The Board!! Those that are smart enough to sit in the Back so they don’t have to be any closer to you than possible, can’t see the Board. Don’t write in Red pen! It is invisible.

In conclusion, I want you to know you have most likely ruined math for me and probably everyone else you have ever taught. We will need extensive physcological treatment to overcome the damage you have inflicted. You don’t deserve to be in the teaching profession. You should join government as a hostage negotiator. You could have annoyed Koresh into giving up. Finally, for the future, don’t waste so much class time!

In disgust,

[DCB]

P.S. Since I don’t believe in taking human life, I’ll give you this warning: A number of students have been plotting your death. Watch your back.

(This was transcribed from a handwritten letter to my 12th grade Trigonometry/Math Analysis teacher. He made everyone write him a letter at the end of the year. Mine was quite accurate, but mean-spirited, so I never gave it too him. I have a tender heart.)

Why I was only in Trig in 12th grade

When I was in 6th grade, my teacher didn’t teach us how to multiply fractions.

When I got to 7th grade pre-Algebra, that skill was taken for granted. I didn’t know what to do, and the teacher was of no help. Everyone else knew what they were doing, and I was scared to admit I had no clue. When the teacher found out, she was not understanding and made me feel like I was stupid.

In a panic, I asked to be transferred to Math. I got a very nice teacher and was much happier. I took pre-Algebra the next year; this put me a year behind, although as it turned out, with a mere week or two of tutoring I could have been brought up to speed. In college I took three semesters of Calculus and then Linear Algebra, so I wasn’t dumb in math. I just was in it all alone.

Therefore, in my senior year of High School, instead of taking Pre-Calculus, I was taking Trigonometry and Math Analysis, and half the class were Juniors.

The teacher was ridiculous. The younger students sat up front and encouraged his antics, the older ones sat in the back and make snide comments. I usually sat closer to the front, but not this class.

A very large portion of class time would be random stories that had nothing to do with math. We’d hear about his car, a decrepit VW Bus named Klaus, how he had a large pimple on his nose and ran a lot of hot water onto it, how he went to see Sliver expecting to see a lot of Sharon Stone nude, but was disappointed. The younger kids ate it all up, the seniors just suffered in silent rage.

At the end of the year, he asked us to write a letter to him about our experience in the class. I wrote a letter, one draft, handwritten, a real stream-of-consciousness type of thing. It was very cathartic, but when I was done, I decided it was too mean.

It was accurate, though. Everything I complained about, he really did, no exaggeration. In fact the reality was much worse.