Today I was asked us to write about my best and worst experience with teachers. I then shared my worst experience with the class. I’ve written a little bit about my worst experience before…though I mainly shared my hatred for that bitch, Cathy, and the drawings I violated my text book with.
My worst teacher was a psychology professor. The first problem with taking a psychology class is basic: people are cheap, lazy and fucked up. Psychology courses attract people who should really be in private therapy, rather than use a community college class (do-it-yourself solution to their personal problems), AKA, creepy over share time, bad boundaries, etc, etc.
Not only was the professor regularly late, but he did not lecture. During each class he had the students summarize the assigned reading…I learned very little. The only time that we had discussions were when he would use our class time to share his mental health issues. He had some “new” form of bi-polar disorder (not recognized by the American Psychiatric Association) that he developed from exposure to crop dusting as a child. BUT, only men were capable of contracting this specific disorder and they had to be of specific age criteria. Uh, huh…hello crazy town!
Our final paper was to be written about a major life event and its affect. We were to relate our experience to the psychology models of our text book. We were also required to give an oral presentation on our paper. If the subject matter of our paper was too personal we were permitted to make an oral presentation on a different subject.
I wrote my paper on the events that led to my official exit from Mormonism. It was an extremely personal experience and I didn’t feel comfortable sharing the trauma that led to the worst fight I’ve ever had with my parents, along with a slew of additional sordid shit that was left in the wake. It was really hard for me to write the paper but it was damn satisfying to put a frightening and emotionally charged experience into words. It was cathartic, though I did not want to share my experience with the class.
Then I heard some of my classmates give their oral presentations. The subjects varied and touched on nearly every taboo/horrible experience you could think of (except for murder). The topics included: divorce, a child kidnapped by her biological father, abuse of all sorts, pregnancy resulting from infidelity, abortion and the clincher was a guy who admitted to embezzling $70k from a job – a crime which he had not been prosecuted for, yet he felt comfortable sharing it with THIRTY-FIVE STRANGERS! WTF?!
After hearing a slew of over share from my classmates, I decided to “put it in the fuck it bucket” and talk about my descent from Mormonism. It went great. Much better than I thought it would! It was oddly satisfying to share my experience with a group of strangers and see all of their jaws dropped at the end; so much easier than to make up a bullshit oral presentation.
The final straw was when the professor “graded” thirty-five, single spaced, three page essays during the forty-five minutes in which we took our final. I received 10/10 on my paper but still felt ripped off. I poured my fucking heart and soul into that paper and all he gave it was count the number of paragraphs I’d used before writing “Excellent!” across the top. Though my paper was excellent, it deserved more than one minute grading period.
I hate Cathy as well as Family Circus. It is funny, because I regularly deface those comics as you do.
I was a psych major. I think the reason I chose that major was the various TMI psychosis sessions that students would get into. I had a professor talk in class about something his wife would do to him while he was sleeping that involved hurting his nipples. I had another professor tell me the messages he’d receive from the “other side”, via EVP phenomena. I later took parapsychology from him because I dug his kind of crazy.
I learned nothing from this essay of yours.
I will now count you as the worst teacher I ever had.
The Grunt,
One thing, terrible about mister over-share professor that I didn’t share…was that he was a total hippy and showed up to class in dirty shorts almost daily. I had the misfortune of sitting in front of his desk one day…I spent the next two hours pretending that he was wearing underwear. I washed my brain with bleach that night.
Übermilf,
I think anyone that got through this massive post should receive an award. The new TMI is blogging, yay! I’m open to reward suggestions.
I had a professor similar to that (I was a psych major) except I kind of figured we were going to get graded so quickly that I made something up in my paper…I think we were supposed to do some sort of observation thing that tied into some sort of internal struggle or something and I totally made the whole thing up, which he would have known without a doubt if he read it. I got 100%. Which is much better than I did in a lot of the classes I actually worked for my grade in.
I have a quibble.
You call it a “descent from Mormonism.”
I think you should have written “ascent from Mormonism” or “escape from Mormonism.”
But I won’t let it affect your grade.
when i went to visit a prospective college for the first time, the summer between spring and fall of ’95, the math prof let slip in casual conversation that he was very familiar with the showering habits of one of his grad students. she then came in and laughed with him about it..
it was all very weird to me. he turned out to be one of the best professors i ever had, creepy relationship with grad student or not.
Any chance at getting a copy of your paper, MP? I just referred a friend to Fawn M. Brody’s “No Man Knows My History, The Life Of A Big, Fat Liar.” Something like that. Subtitles don’t stick for some reason.
Bio profile sez you are in Holy Shit, UT. Guess that makes my birthplace Cocky Dooty, UT (SLC). Holy Cross Hospital, not brand M.
Would love it if you could email your paper. True story. G
I just think you rock.
I can’t imagine the amount of strength it took to walk away from Mormonism — which potentially could have mean losing everything you knew. …and, I suspect it did mean that for a a while.
I didn’t hear/read the essay, but I’m sure it was excellent and far more deserving than a quick scribble of a grade.
I think, it also must take great strength to follow the path you’re on right now.
I salute and waive to you. …And, hope you return here! I want to sit down and hang!
Oh, I got confused and thought I was reading your blog when in fact I was reading a post from Pakipoptart! …far too early for me to be reading and commenting on blogs. Anyway, I thought you had taken to going into the homes of strangers and enjoying their meals. However, the more I think about it the more I feel you should start doing this.
…you’ll need to visit pakipoptart’s site to understand.
kisses,
matty
Awesome post. And I spent all morning dissing my Prof and putting off tonight’s work… then randomly stumble here! Guess i’ll go finish my essays…