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The Worst Teacher Ever.

Mr. Simons
A few days ago i received an assignment from my ever wonderful new English teacher, Mrs. Gubler. It stated that i needed to write an essay, a descriptive essay, about a previous teacher. I was to write a couple stories about that teacher, that impacted my life in some way. Coincidentally, i had the perfect, or not so perfect teacher in mind.
He was short, shorter than I, and a little rotund. He had hair like porcupine quills, and colored deep coffee. His eyes were round, almost push-tack like, and looked like burnt bark droplets. He had a fat, pig-like nose that always pointed heavenward. The nose donned small blotches of brown. I imagine that all the brown was because he was so full of cr*p. He had no facial hair, besides the poor innocent caterpillars that he killed and used for eyebrows. He dressed in coach-type attire, daily. He wore football sweat jackets as well as joggers, colored blue and gold, the colors of Enterprise High School. My favorite part about him was his atrocious hygiene choices. His breath always wreaked, his fingernails rotted and fell off, and he lacked clean hand capacity. Besides all this outward appearance, he was a corrupt, ugly being on the inside as well. He was lazy, and couch potato-ish.

Mr. Simons’ 10th grade English class started off horribly, and never got better. We started off learning nothing. It was a warm day in August, a few weeks into sophomore year, when our terribly big class of 30 flooded into the tiny room. We struggled to find seats near the people we liked. i eventually sat on the wall with the windows directly above, a heated seat that day, in more ways than one. I remember thinking how the windows let in a certain amount of heat, just enough to take the chill out of the cold hearted teacher’s aura, as well as a little breeze to take away some of the rancid rotting flesh smell that was his breath. I believe i heard some of the jocks joke about the lack of assignments or lessons this year, with a quick response from a cheerleader who reminded them that was a “good” thing. I took a mild giggle as i realised we hadn’t had a single lesson...
A few months into the school year, around late October, we received our first real assignment. As we all eagerly piled into the “Joke 101” class, we awaited to watch another ridiculous video, or Jay Leno clip, as we did nearly every day. But that day, we watched something totally, unexpectedly different. As the brown, blue, and gold walrus walked from his desk in the back, to the smart board in front, a certain decaying smell flooded the room, a smell as beastly as grandma’s dentures accidentally soaked in acid and cow patties all night. By the time he reached the front, 2 jocks and a body builder had passed out. He then began to speak. He was grim, unusual for him. We could tell he was serious about this... or nervous. He explained to us that we would have to get into groups of 3 or 4, and make a video about the town we are from. He gave us a rubric, sloppily typed up, with greasy finger marks, to follow while doing the assignment. Sounds fun for a group of teen friends, no? Fun, yes. Educational in any way? well, um... no. He gave us a whopping 2 weeks to complete this not-so enormous assignment, and my dysfunctional group got it done in 2 hours, the night before it was due.When we showed our masterpiece to the class the next day, we were applauded. The teacher stood, an amazing feat for this beer-belly being, and clapped at it. We got an “a” for our 2 minute throw-together.

Another time Simons’ demonstrated his heinous teaching skills was the end of 4th quarter, around May/June time. Again, we piled delightfully into the warm room. I sat, once again in the seat next to the window. The air flowing in had small dirt flakes dancing about it, as construction was going on just across the road. The sophomores in this particular classroom were just about ready for school to be over. Their heads rested on the hands or desks, drool dripping from their sleeping mouths. We all knew it was close to the end of the year and that meant finals. None of us had learned anything from Simons’ class all year. We mostly sat around casually, on top of desks, chatting away while a few select students got to search “fail blog” and present their findings to the class. We had learned more English from our math books for heavens sake, and some of us had not even had math that year! And once again, he got his blubbery self up and trudged to the front of the room. As he spoke his rancid breath strewed over the room. He gave us one final assignment, he gave groups of 3 or 4 each a teachers manual on one certain aspect of English that we were supposed to learn that year. Each group would study the manual, and then develop an assignment for the rest of the class to do. In other words, we were the teacher. If you ask me, that is the epitome of lazy.
And those are my life changing accounts of the infamous Mr. Caleb Simons, the most lazy, unkempt, and abominable teacher ever to teach at Enterprise High School. Due to his atrociousness, he was fired before the next year, and no one really knows what happened to him to this day. All i can say is that you should avoid him at all costs if you ever meet him.

The End.



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This article has 4 comments. Post your own now!

apocalyptigirl said...
Oct. 2, 2010 at 9:48 pm
Ha. I could tell, as soon as you started describing him, that this was going to be a fun essay to read. I would've liked to hear more about how he changed your life, though, as I wasn't sure whether that was meant ironically or whether his neglect of his job changed your life for the worse and you struggled in English classes from there on out.
 
kao-chanu replied...
Oct. 3, 2010 at 1:28 pm
thanks :) your right
 
Annieboo said...
Sept. 19, 2010 at 3:11 pm
I hope that I will never get that teacher! This story reminds me of my english teacher.
 
kao-chanu replied...
Sept. 19, 2010 at 11:19 pm
it was a sad year for the student who actually wanted to learn. thanks for viewing :) please rate
 
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