A wide, cinematic digital painting of a chaotic 2000s public high school classroom in full comedic meltdown. Desks are scattered, papers fly through the air, and a clueless math teacher stands at the chalkboard completely oblivious as a rolled-up paper projectile whizzes past their shoulder. In the mid-foreground, a smirking teenage boy mid-throw lowers his arm just out of the teacher’s sightline, while another student is being marched toward the door by an angry hall monitor. The lighting is fluorescent and slightly washed out, emphasizing the dull, institutional feel of public school. Subtle humorous details fill the scene—doodles on desks, a half-broken calculator, a torn poster of basic algebra hanging crooked. Overall mood: chaotic, irreverent, nostalgic. Painterly realism with sharp character expressions.

My most CLUELESS public school teacher ever

ByTC Marti

We all had that public school teacher. One who’s so clueless they become the class playground. In my junior year, I met the final boss of clueless teachers.

I couldn’t wait to write this one. This teacher was so clueless, that my younger cousin, then nine years old, used the same adjective to describe them when I brought up their name about a year after I left their class.

My cousin, whose mother was also a teacher (and is not included in any of my rankings to avoid biases), knew many of the high school teachers in the years before they went there. Naturally, since his mother and this teacher worked in the same department, they knew them rather well.

I’m not sure if that teacher retired or not before my cousin had a chance to experience the madness. But they didn’t have to, since I got this nice little blog article summing up their class.

The 11th-grade math class that I failed

So what happened, exactly? The catalyst for this class being the biggest joke I ever had the misfortune to attend in high school occurred when someone yelled, “Baaah” at the top of their lungs in the hallway.

Everyone except the few who were actually there to play the game of school busted out laughing, and the teacher kept forging on with some boring-ass lecture as if nothing happened. For many of us in the class, that was a sign of weakness, and we smelled blood in the water. Especially my one friend.

They started goofing off maybe the week after, raising their hand and answering questions with comical responses like, “Uh, I have a belly button,” and “Justin being big.” The latter was especially hilarious, since my friend was sure that kid was going to go after him.

If you want more fun with the latter statement, I’d actually seen the ‘being big’  kid again about 11 years after I’d left that class, and about a decade after I graduated. It was during the time I was sneaking into town while unemployed and visiting the public library. He’d gotten so big that he couldn’t fit into those plastic library chairs, so you can imagine what we were dealing with in high school.

My contributions

As for me, I’d signal for this friend to do something, knowing they’d get thrown out of the class. Not only thrown out, but on at least one occasion, suspended after they unzipped their pants and unleashed a paper version of what I’ll just call a male reproductive organ.

We found it hilarious. As for that teacher? Well, when they finally figured out what was going on, they made that friend of mine go to the office. After class I asked them what happened. “I got suspended, that’s what happened,” they said.

“You gonna keep up those antics?” I said, knowing the answer.

“Hell yeah.”

And they did, still at my signals. I also resorted to throwing paper at that teacher when they had their back turned.

The kicker…

It was around the spring of 2008, and I think I was fantasizing over some picture of Miley Cyrus…I know, confession of a high school kid in the late 2000s that my K-pop crushes don’t need to know about….when this idea hit me like a linebacker.

I’m just going to bombard this teacher and I’m not gonna stop until they catch on. So, I started tearing off some paper, rolling it up, and firing it at their back. Once, twice, and after the third time, they turned around right after my follow-through and stared at me.

I wasn’t quick enough to put my hand back down onto that old-ass desk, and I knew I was in for it. But they turned and pointed at one of the trouble-making freshmen in the class, yelled for a bit, then threw them into the hallway. To this day, I have no idea how they didn’t realize it was me throwing the paper, especially when they locked eyes with me for that fraction of a second.

After the class, we were in weightlifting, and that same freshman came up to me. “You got me written up, TC.” 

“Hey, man, don’t blame me. I thought I got caught.”

No clueless teachers necessary at Arcane

The Arcane Prophecy by TC MartiIn my young adult fantasy series, Arcane Elemental Academy, you won’t see any of the 32 competing schools at the place bringing on a clueless public school teacher I had from my junior year.

They’ll hire public school teachers who aren’t feeling that their profession is worthwhile any longer, don’t get me wrong. But for teachers just there for the paycheck, job benefits, and have no idea what’s going on in their class or how to even teach students, then Arcane won’t bring them on.

That’s what makes my protagonist, Yote Diamondback, so lucky. She doesn’t have to deal with the people the State forces down so many of our throats. When she attends Arcane, she immediately sees the difference between it and the traditional schooling model.

Students love it, and most of them stick around. But how did Yote end up going to Arcane? The first three chapters of my book, The Arcane Prophecy, have the answer. Check them out, and if you love what you read, make sure you get the damn book. It’s one hell of a ride.

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