Saturday, October 16, 2010

English

I loved English when I was at school until I met Mrs Powell in my 3rd year or Grade 9, as it is commonly known these days, my formative years.

Day one of English class and being introduced to my new English teacher went something like this:
Dulce decorum esque by Owen. We were sitting at a table of four we were handed a poem, I, being me, skim read it. I looked around while others were sitting in silence and I was wondering why everyone was still reading it. I spoke to my friend next to me, asking what she thought the poem was about...Instantly I was seen as the trouble maker and was told to shut up and to read the poem. That day onwards Mrs Powell and I had an understanding, we did not like each other.

I must state that I was never a trouble maker at school, NEVER. But for whatever reason she had decided instantly that I was to be disliked and downgraded for my efforts. It did not stand me in good stead, in fact it made life that little more challenging and my academic confidence had knocked me back a peg or two.

I loved English and I wanted to take this further after school but the influence I had received from my teacher made matters difficult and I had decided that I was not good enough to do English. If I had tried harder and put the effort in I would have been an A grade student instead I came out with an unforgivable C, and I partly blame my teacher for knocking the confidence out of me.

Thanks to Mrs Powell I have never forgotten and never forgiven. Bad teachers sadly are remembered particularly since they can influence your future decisions.

Have you experienced a bad teacher that influenced your life?

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