1) Parochial school.
Religious beliefs notwithstanding, I'm referring to the old tactic of teaching by humiliation.
In first grade I read at about a sixth-grade level, and would often complain of the "see Spot run"-style primary readers as being too boring. The teachers' response was to put me in a third-grade classroom... where I did fine until they made me read from the board.
IN CURSIVE.
And these weren't even nuns. By contrast to the civilian "educators," the nuns were, well... quite holy.
Books aren't written in cursive, of course. I broke down in the middle of class because I couldn't read what was on the board. I probably could've if it were in standard print, because the issue wasn't reading comprehension, it was just that, well, I hadn't learned cursive yet. Needless to say, the third-grade kids all laughed.
The third-grade teacher called downstairs for the first-grade teacher, who came upstairs, grabbed me by the ear and dragged me two flights of stairs (by the ear), and upon arrival at the first-grade class "where I belonged," shoved me in the room and had me stand at the front of the classroom, tearful and humiliated. Then she told all the girls to look up at the front of the room for a minute. Guess what: the third-grade kids and their teacher showed up too. To "teach me a lesson about pride," which she wrote in big words on the blackboard behind me.
I was the poster child for an "important lesson" in why pride and knowledge are against the teachings of God.
I wasn't "haughty" at all; just bored literally to tears and frustrated by the fact that there weren't any chapter books. A non-denominational private or charter school might have been a better option, but the overly rigid parochial environment where "knowledge is a sin" (especially because it was an all-girl school) and independence tantamount to demonic possession was NOT a good match at all.
2) Public school and the "self-contained" classroom (I don't like that term either), without regard for students' individual issues. As a shy, highly intelligent but emotionally insecure and high-anxiety teenager (really, what teenager isn't high-anxiety?)
I was, for part of ninth grade, in a "self-contained" class with some seriously troubled and/or disabled kids: one with Down syndrome, another with a double whammy of disadvantages (deaf and of non-English speaking parents), a few who'd moved in from the inner city and were in here instead of juvenile hall for gang involvement, and a girl of about 15 or so who dropped out because she was pregnant. I was on the way other end of the educational spectrum while they were, unfortunately, still starting out. But the fact that middle-of-the-road was all the school system was willing to accommodate -- the slapped-together NCLB template curriculum -- meant that any outliers were in what the faculty often referred to (and disparagingly, I might add) as "the zoo," "the experimental monkey lab" or "the point of no return."
They were quite a cast of characters, and I have to say, better people as people than the stuck-up cheerleaders or jocks of the "mainstream," but it really wasn't a good match for me (obviously), and though I was actually disappointed to leave (and a little scared), I really didn't belong there. I did get to hang out there from time to time though, during study hall when I'd help out the teachers' aides and para-professionals (or if the cafeteria got too lonely and overwhelming).
Basically, though, it was like sticking Matilda in with the "Dangerous Minds."
