Generate this: Wide, cinematic digital painting capturing the oppressive atmosphere of a public school system through symbolism rather than literal violence. Foreground: a narrow school hallway with flickering fluorescent lights, polished floors, and rows of metal lockers, walls slightly grimy and institutional beige. A single student stands center-frame with their back to the viewer — backpack slung over one shoulder, fists subtly clenched, posture tense but resolute. The hall stretches toward a bright exit door at the far end, glowing with natural light. Shadows of towering authority figures loom along the walls — distorted silhouettes of teachers pointing, shouting, and blocking paths — but none are fully visible, only implied. Reflected in the locker metal are faint runic shapes and symbols of freedom and choice, hinting at a world beyond coercion. Mood: oppressive, reflective, anticipatory, like awakening right before rebellion. Painterly realism, dramatic lighting, subtle mist or dust motes in air. No text overlay.

One shared common denominator of public school teachers

ByTC Marti

From 1995 to 2009, I found one disturbing similarity between all of my public school teachers, regardless of the grade level they taught.

From the time I attended preschool back in 1995 until my graduation year in 2009, every public school teacher I’ve ever had used coercion and intimidation to assert themselves over the classroom. Even those so-called “nice teachers.”

And when you consider that I had 21 of them before I even set foot into high school, it’s a pretty decent sample size. Even in high school, they used the same coercive tactics, some more than others, and they each had their unique styles.

They cherry-picked, too. I once got in trouble for drinking bottled water in class, yet it was almost like they turned a blind eye to all the snuffers we had spitting residue into those same bottles. This actually happened to me twice, the second instance coming my senior year in the hallway, when one of the more passive-aggressive coercers said, “Hey, TC, are you allowed to drink that in here?”

Dude, it’s freaking water. Funnily enough, the guy knew I wasn’t someone who’d spike the contents of hydrogen and oxygen with anything, especially since I didn’t start drinking pre-workout until I was like 19, a year after I graduated.

Different types of coercion, same endgame

All the public school teachers I met practiced the art of coercion, even the best ones. I hinted earlier that each had their own style. Some were sheer hardliners, yelling so loudly that their voices echoed off the walls and lockers. Others looked and acted like Dolores Umbridge. Then, there were the hybrids.

One teacher grabbed and pinned me against a locker back in 2006 when they thought I f-bombed in the hallway, saying, “They didn’t appreciate my language.” Looking back, I should’ve decked him in the face.

I’m all for kids respecting adults, but when an adult puts a hand on a kid, it’s fair game. Yeah, it may’ve meant a stint in juvenile court, but in hindsight, there wouldn’t have been a single peer nor adult close to me who wouldn’t have justified it. And I guaran-damn-tee you that SOB never would’ve touched another student without thinking twice.

Let’s talk about Umbridge, the passive-aggressive style, and the intimidators

The teacher who I’ll just call “Umbridge” may’ve been the most unpopular one of the bunch. No one enjoyed their class, mainly because they thought the State had every right to own kids. Nobody, in my 14 years of attending school between age four and 18, had dished out so much homework and graded it like a test.

If you did the assignment, you got a ‘C,’ if you were lucky. If you were a minute late, you failed it no matter how well you fared. And if you didn’t do it at all, it was a double ‘F.’

And you could forget about using the bathroom if you needed to. At least some of the time. If you had to go, they’d let you if they were in a good mood.

Then, there were the passive-aggressive ones. Those who subtly reminded you who was in charge when they felt like it. They played the “nice teacher role,” but with an asterisk, almost like they dared someone to cross them.

Finally, you had the pure intimidators. These teachers boasted imposing size and loved talking loud even when they didn’t need to. Hell, one of them was so loud that I could hear them through a closed door, and they always seemed to be yelling at someone. This one stood at about six feet four inches tall and clocked in at over 350 lbs, literally built like a defensive tackle.

No coercion needed in market-based education

The Arcane Prophecy by TC MartiNot a single one of the public school teachers listed above, nor most in America today are providing anyone a service. It’s not a service when you have no choice but to enter their classroom and abide by their rules because the State doesn’t give you another option unless you’re homeschooled, unschooled, or are attending a private school (and I’m not talking about mainstream Catholic schools).

The only teachers providing an actual service these days are those with enough brains to exit the system and realize they can’t provide a service based on theft and coercion. Instead, they open their own private practices, just like everyone else with a passion for helping others, and you can catch their success stories over at the LiberatED Podcast, just to throw a name out there.

That’s also the case with every single teacher employed at the Arcane Elemental Academy, the umbrella institution in my young adult fantasy series of the same name. My protagonist, Yote Diamondback, doesn’t even realize such schools exist until one of those traditional private schools rejects her.

Yote’s rejection leaves her looking for a contingency plan, and that’s how she stumbles across Arcane. If you want the full details, you’re in luck, because I have the first three chapters of Book I, The Arcane Prophecy, ready to roll. Catch Yote, and experience the sequence of events that led her to Arcane.

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