Causing someone to lose their job usually isn’t a triumph. It’s an awful feeling. You think about the person’s family, their future, their stability. You worry about whether you did the right thing.
But when someone is in a position of trust, responsible for protecting the interests of kids… Sometimes it’s necessary to swing the hammer.
These Quorans were kind enough to tell us about the time they had to get a teacher fired. Be forewarned: one or two of these stories are a bit disturbing.
A number of other parents and I got a teacher fired.
My daughter got a 0 on one of her assignments, one that I knew she completed and took back to school. She insisted that she turned it in. The teacher insisted that she hadnt.
He was always somewhat mean to her. Minor things, really, but consistent. So I had a chat with the principal of the school.
Two days later, my daughter and I were called into a meeting with him and some other administrators, including the principal. We talked a bit and they saw the way he treated her. They asked him to leave the room so my daughter could talk freely (and she did).
We found out a few days later that my daughters complaint about him wasnt the first from a girl in one of his classes. Apparently he had a problem with girls and consistently misplaced their homework (never the boys).
After some investigation and some serious words from a number of other parents, the school did let him go.
Bear in mind this guy was a substitute teacher.
This guy came in and was rude to everyone. He just blatantly ignored questions, etc. About half an hour into the lesson, everything went downhill. (continued…)
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We were a tight knit group who all knew each other well and always discussed things as we worked. At the time, we were talking about voting (it was 2015) and the teacher outright said, Women should not be allowed to vote. He added, Women should always be in the kitchen cooking and cleaning.
We all expressed a strong belief that he was wrong – even the idiots of the group agreed. One kid (who was Black) said the teacher should go back to school because women and men are equal, to which the teacher replied, Women are not equal you little colored idiot.
He then proceeded to push a student over a table.
We reported him, and he got banned from teaching. I actually think it was the most mature thing our class ever did.
I regret it to this day as it was totally unintentional.
I was in college when it happened.
She used to teach English and was one of the nicest profs. However, she used to show up 1015 minutes late to class. Not always, but often enough.
So, one day the Student Affairs Officer was on rounds and came to our class.
As our teacher hadnt arrived, she asked, Is she always late?
I had to be the loudmouth who said yes.
I dont know what happened later, but eventually she was let go. I still carry the burden of my actions to date.
It has been more than 9 years, but I learned a very important lesson that day. Sometimes its best to stay silent.
I never meant this to happen, and I realize my actions hurt her livelihood.
I wish I could apologize to her. If I ever meet her again, its the least I can do.
My son came home from school with toes so badly broken and mangled that they had to be pinned in place to keep him from losing them, and he was in a wheelchair for months. I didnt get a reason from the school and they didnt even tell the principal. He hopped off the bus on one foot, screaming, and I rushed him to the hospital.
Its important to note that my son is autistic and doesnt speak, so he couldnt say what happened. There were three teachers and a nurse in his class (some of the students have severe medical problems and needed meds and other assistance).
When I told the school his toes were broken, they tried to have me investigated by Child Protective Services. (continued…)
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I refused to send him back to that school, obviously.
So, you have 4 adults in a class with severely disabled children who either injured a child or ignored him as he was being injured and didnt even pay attention to him enough to notice it (or just refused to let anyone know if it was their fault).
One of those adults had medical training and didnt think it was odd that an ablebodied child suddenly couldnt walk on one foot. (Im calling BS that they didnt know. I think they injured him, I just have no proof.)
Also, keep in mind that these are children who might have a seizure at any moment and who have a history of just leaving the room or building without saying anything, so its important to supervise them.
Long story short, two teachers were fired. The nurse and main teacher had too much tenure to be fired, and the public school now has to pay for my son to go to a private school where he has his own private aid.
The things Im about to narrate date all the way back to when I was a 7th-grader. This is the story of my first major victory.
I went to a Turkish middle school which rather too closely resembled a more pessimistic description of the underworld. The school was overcrowded, with classrooms designed for 25 students populated by 60.
Windows were broken, desks were, for the most part, not there, but worst of all, the toilet, oh that stinking little room smelled like sulphur. Seriously, the school didnt employ a cleaner, and thus the toilet floor was constantly covered in drying poo.
And then during 7th grade, I was elected the Student Body President. My biggest promise? To get the toilets cleaned.
On my first day as President, I went to the school Principal and told him about the issue.
Initially, he claimed that he had had no idea of the problem, and that he would be onto it immediately.
A week passed, but the toilets were not touched.
I went back to speak to him. This time, he made clear his disinterest in the subject. He said that it was too insignificant a matter to hire a cleaner for.
I decided to prepare a petition. I wrote a polite request, and under it I collected the signature of every single student in the school. I took it back to the Principal.
Id left the signatures with him, and when I went back to him a day later, he told me that he had lost them.
Unluckily for him, Id made a photocopy of all 11 pages. This time, I took it to the superintendent of schools in my town.
At first, he was shocked at my audacity as a mere student to knock on his door, but as I explained my story, he was drawn in further and further.
At the end, he told me that he was quite impressed, and he made a promise to me that the toilets would be taken care of.
And so they were. Within a week, the toilets smelled like rose gardens, and that Principal was gone.
In eighth grade, my school hired an extra sports teacher for Track. The guy was young, nice, and joked around a lot. Most people liked him in the beginning. But he began showing his true colours soon enough. (continued…)
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He turned out to be a total perv.
He started off by saying inappropriate stuff to some girls (including me) and at a certain boy, like shake your butts. He used to make fun of the boys genitals. At first it seemed like misplaced ribbing, but it got way, way worse.
He then started touching (us, girls) in an innapropriate way. Hed rub his hands on our thighs, arms, lower back, and would hug us. Hed even accidentally graze our butts.
He also liked taking the youngest girls aside, alone to talk after class, or during, just so he could be alone with them. He never did this with guys. Always female 5th or 6th graders. Most of them stopped coming to track.
So he shifted his attention to the older girls.
The last week of him being a teacher, and free, he really went for it. Before class, he took me aside and felt me up, telling me I was naughty.
I didn’t tell anyone because I was ashamed of myself, and I didnt think anyone would believe me anyway.
Luckily, a guy in my grade (who also did track) had recorded a bit of the teachers inappropriate behavior. Shortly after, we all went and told the principal about it.
They went on to call the police, and the guy was rightfully arrested, convicted, and sentenced.
Pretty much the whole class got our teacher fired. This was when I was in 7th grade.
Our school was pretty crazy about gym. Every class had to do it at least 23 times a week – it was something like a school rule. We got ours on Wednesdays and Fridays, always doing it with the classroom of 6th graders next door.
A lot of the time, our gym classes were soccer matches against each other. We beat them every. Single. Time. But we got along very well as friends and rivals regardless.
I actually loved gym classes too, because, being a 12-year-old boy, it was literally the only time when I could see my crush for nearly a whole hour.
The problem however, is that our teacher hated gym. (continued…)
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I lost count of how many times that scumbag would just cancel our P.E. class, making up lousy excuses such as;
1. We were too loud while lining up outside. Apparently even a whisper was enough to send us back to class.
2. Teacher was simply in a bad mood for personal reasons.
3. He thought we were getting too cocky and savage against the other class, and thus didnt deserve to have gym that week.
He kept this up for nearly 2 months. Nearly everyone was growing incredibly frustrated with him. Some complained to him, saying its not fair and against school rules, only to be screamed at to shut up.
However, one guy had had enough.
He told his mother, who was horrified. She then gave him a hand-written letter for the principal, asking for all of our signatures confirming that our teacher was not allowing us to do gym. classes. I was shocked, but thinking of my crush, I signed without hesitation.
Bitter, vengeful and angry towards him, nearly all of us actually signed it and handed it to the kids mother, who promptly took it to the principal.
By the final week of the school year, it was announced that our teacher was leaving for good. Rumors quickly spread that he had been fired and the principal had been fuming like a volcano, especially since he himself attended our school in his youth.
Either way, we were happy that we achieved victory and vengeance.
I didn’t get a teacher fired, but my mom did. This was in the 60s, before integration.
My parents moved to a “restricted” neighborhood (unbeknownst to them at the time). That means no Blacks, no Jews, just your basic all white area.
My second grade teacher found out I was Jewish when mom kept my sisters and I home for the High Holy Days. After I came back, my teacher forbid me to go out for recess because I was naughty. I decided to change my name because I was the only one getting in trouble with the teacher for any and everything I did.
I stopped putting my name on my papers and put the name Valerie on them so I wouldn’t get in trouble. With no Valerie in the class, and no Elaine turning in papers, and Valeries printing looking exactly like Elaines, my teacher punished me for this too.
I had gotten bruises on my back and my arms. Mom called the school and asked about them. The school said I had fallen at recess. My mom figured out someone wasn’t telling the truth. (continued…)
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I wasn’t going out for recess because I had been naughty, so how could I have fallen? She sat me down and wanted to know what was going on, and insisted I tell her the truth. She wasn’t mad, she just wanted to know. I told my mom I didn’t like school anymore and wouldn’t be going back. I didn’t like being locked in a closet. My mom examined my arms and back, grabbed her bag and told my sisters and I to get in the car.
Well, she was a stay-at-home mom in the early 60s. She’d just learned to drive. There was no waiting for dad to get home. She calmly packed us girls up in the car and went to school. She had us wait in the office lobby.
She went right past the clerks and into the office without an appointment. She and the principal took care of the problem. The next day, I had a substitute teacher who eventually took over the class for the rest of the year. (I don’t remember any of this – my mom told me the story years later.)
She never told me what exactly was said behind the principals office door, but the teacher was called in to the office and was very forthright about how no Jews should be enrolled at that school. We never had any problems with High Holy Day absences after that. In fact, my schoolmates were often jealous that we got off school for those days as well as Christmas and Easter holidays.
In 6th grade a Black boy joined my class, and in high school it was totally integrated and there were no more restrictions in my neighborhood anyway.
I don’t know why I don’t remember any of my 2nd grade education except having 2 different teachers. Maybe trauma, maybe some other psychological phenomenon. I remember every other year, teachers and events, just not 2nd grade.)
My first kindergarten teacher was something else. I dont think I ever saw her smile. Constantly angry, never loving… completely wrong for the job.
I was an avid early reader and, during nap time, Id sneak little Rand McNally childrens books to read. When she caught me, shed scream like I was some kind of criminal.
I was terrified of this woman.
I cant remember if I had told my mother how I felt, until I had a nightmare. My younger brother had this massive stuffed bear that I always thought of as a protector. So it was no surprise when I dreamt one night that the teacher was holding us kids hostage, the bear came alive to rescue us. I still have a vision of peeking through the classroom door to see it trudging dutifully toward us up the path!
My mother was disturbed by that nightmare. She talked to other mothers and found their kids were scared, too. I dont know the details, but the school investigated her and she was soon fired. My mother doesnt remember the reason. But the next teacher was MUCH better.
Answers edited for clarity.