All teachers have that one troublesome student they just absolutely cannot control. In these cases, there was nothing better than KARMA to set those horrible children straight.
Never Steal A Pepper
“I am a middle school teacher. I had a student that was a real twerp. He was always doing things he was not supposed to and purposely causing conflict with other students. He was a daily headache. One day in class he stole a candied pepper from one of Hispanic students and ate it. It was a very hot pepper ( not sure of the type). At first I didn’t notice because he was a sneaky kid. He started to sweat and his sweat turned to tears. ‘I need to go to the bathroom,’ he cried, ‘my mouth, my mouth!’ I went to investigate and found out what happened. The karma payback plan was now collecting, and I refused to let him go get a drink and continued with the math instruction in hopes of teaching him a lesson. For the next few minutes he pleaded with me to go to the nurse with tears running down his face. I said ‘I do not negotiate with thieves.; He started running around in circles. It wasn’t until he started sobbing and crying out ;I just want my mom,’ that I finally felt bad and said,’If I take you to the nurse are you ever going to act out in class again?’ He promised that he wouldn’t, and he never did. The tears and sobbing in front if his peers broke his ego and he was a stellar student for the rest of the school year” (source).
Once For Everytime
“I coached middle school football. Some kids have come out of their shell by then, others have not. But at least most of the early bloomers were jerks to make life hell for everybody. The teams starting half back was one of those jerks. He gave a defensive lineman h–ll and since everybody thought he was cool they gave him h–ll right along with him. The d-lineman was a big guy but not aggressive or outgoing, still just in his shell really. He did fine out there because he was a big guy but hardly played to his potential. The little running backs took their Napoleon complexes out on the big guy by running by him and shouting “P–ssy!” every time he failed to stop them. Rather than fight back to make the play he would just ignore it and line up and try again the next play. One day the whole thing just clicked for the big guy and he started making plays. He learned to get off his blockers and form tackle and attack the ball carrier. It was a cool thing to see. He loved it. When he really started getting into a grove I started running the jerk half back right at the blooming d-lineman and watched him plant that guy in the ground with a thud every time. It was just getting easier as I made sure they ran the same play at him play after play. Soon, bruised and beaten, the jerk asked ‘How many times are you going to run this play?’ and I responded ‘Once for every time you called him a p–ssy.’ (source)
“It just slipped out”
“Had a kid that threw a lock at my head not get expelled because ‘it just slipped out of her hand.’ She got expelled a few months later for bringing a weapon to school” (source).
The Good Kind Of Karma
“I moved to a new city in 1st grade. At the time, I was ahead of the curve, reading-wise. I learned to read early and was really good for my age at that point. Reading was my favorite thing to do. So you know quiet reading time was my jam. Except the kid sitting behind me, we’ll call him D, was annoying as f–ck and did his best to distract any and everyone around him during silent reading time. I didn’t understand why he couldn’t just shut up and let me enjoy my book… and honestly, I started to really hate him. ANYWAYS, eventually, after a few months of close surveillance, I solved the mystery of why D had to be so annoying during my favorite part of the day: he was bored to tears because he couldn’t read. And I mean he literally could not read, he could sound out some easy words but he was pretty much lost for the most part. And the teachers weren’t really doing anything about it… So I taught him. Before school, during recess (on days when when couldn’t play outside of course – we were little kids, not college students), during reading time, waiting for the bus. We practiced and practiced. I brought him my phonics flashcards from kindergarten. My mom sent me to school with two sets of whatever supplies we needed that day – one pack of markers/notebook/pair of scissors for me, one for D. I got to know him better, and learned about his home life. His mom had two jobs and didn’t get home until after most kids are in bed. He took care of feeding and bathing his younger brother. His dad was in jail. He had a rough life. Hearing about his made me closely examine my own. My teachers always seemed exasperated with him, like it was his fault he couldn’t read and not a reflection of their performance as a teacher. They seemed to leap at the opportunity to give him a demerit or send him on a trip to see the principal even for minor infractions, like ‘not paying attention.’ In reality, they gave him infractions for things like looking out the window because the public school system had failed him so badly he couldn’t even begin to keep up with the material. I noticed they treated several other kids this way, all of whom were black. There were troublemakers of all races and backgrounds, but I remember noticing, at an early age, that the rich white ones never seemed to get in half as much trouble as D always did. By the end of the year, D’s grades had soared – and not just in English. It turns out, with the right support system and school supplies, anyone can learn anything. He finished the first grade with an A in English nothing below a C+ in the other subjects. I remember him hugging me tight and saying ‘I’ve never gotten an A before!’ But most importantly, he could read. He had joined the world of the literate. He was just so excited. All he needed was a little attention and some help getting school supplies. So that’s probably not what you were expecting, But, life dealt D a sh–t hand and he succeeded anyway. He got what he deserved’ – a fair chance at an education. Hope you’re still out there reading, D. Wherever you are” (source).
Smug Little Bastard
“I interned in a class with this kid who always thought he was smarter than everyone else. He was pretty smart, but not by too much. He always got paired with kids not as smart as him, so he would always be really smug when dealing with them. We learned he got that from his parents, during a parent teacher conference. His parents praised that boy up and down and thought he was the smartest kid in the school. They built him up as that and they got him thinking that too. Then they went off on my mentor teacher because she ‘wasn’t providing him with higher enough education, she was bringing him down and she was terrible.’ The conference ended when my mentor teacher left the room crying after the verbal lashing. Well about a week later, there was an event where parents came to watch their children in class. It was to watch them do math games with other students. Well my mentor teacher paired this smug little bastard with the actual smartest kid in class. The one who was working on more advanced classes after school. The kid got shamed. His parents were so flustered during the event. They were very visibly nervous and upset looking as this kid got destroyed game after game. They left before it was all done and took him out of school for the rest of the day” (source).
Lying to Everybody
“Had a kid who was a real jerk when I taught 5th. This kid, let’s call him Ray, had one of those moms who refused to hold him accountable for anything. It was always, some other kid did it, Ray was just protecting himself, Ray just wanted to fit in, Ray was being targeted. Also, she was one of those kids who would ask Ray if he were guilty, and take his ‘No’ as incontestable truth. She would say, ‘My son doesn’t lie to me.’ Oh really? Your kid doesn’t lie? Your kid and Jesus? All kids lie. Anyway, I had a full caseload as a special ed teacher, so I got a paraprofessional (call him Steve). Ray HATED Steve. Had some kind of issue with male authority figures. One day Ray gets in trouble coming back from recess; Steve reprimanded him (verbally). By the time Ray makes it to the classroom, he’s saying how Steve got in his face and shouted at him. He asks to go talk to the principal and tells the principal how Steve grabbed his arm. When Mom comes and gets him, now he’s saying Steve pushed him. Next day we get a phone call. Ray’s mom and grandma are coming in and want a meeting with Steve and the principal to discuss how Steve choked Ray. Steve’s freaking out. Other kids were there, but no adults, no cameras, how can he prove his innocence. I tell him, ‘Go to the meeting and before anybody says anything, have Ray share what happened.’ Steve came back smiling. As soon as 1 story came out, everybody else is disagreeing, ‘Well Ray told me this.. but Ray told ME this!’ I would have loved to see the mom’s face as her kid is proven a liar in front of everyone” (source).
“Don’t jerk in dissections unless you’re willing to swallow”
“I taught a comparative anatomy animal dissection lab section back in college. I had one kid in a section (let’s call him Kevin) who never listened to dissection instructions and just dove in with a scalpel, dicing and chopping and generally mutilating most of the internal organs. His first karmic warning came when we were dissecting squid, and he got squid ‘juice’ on himself. Smelled awful for the rest of that class. However, he kept on ignoring instructions and hacking away… and this time, karmic justice struck on our very last dissection project, the fetal pig. Kevin really wanted to see the pig’s brain. Kevin couldn’t get through the the skull, so he started whacking away at it with the butt of a flat pry knife. I told him to stop, but he had to give it one last, mighty thwack… Crack! The skull breaks, and rubbery piglet brain bits come flying out everywhere… mostly over Kevin, splattering him. Unfortunately, while protesting my refusal to let him dice this piglet into pancetta cubes, Kevin had his mouth open. Thankfully, preserved pig brain, ingested orally, seemed to have a calming, subduing effect on Kevin for the last couple classes. Don’t jerk in dissections unless you’re willing to swallow” (source).
The Second Time Around
“Not a teacher, but one time when I was in kindergarten, a kid looked me straight in the eyes, bit himself on the wrist hard and ran to the teacher and blamed me. They sent me to the principal’s office, my mom was called down, I got yelled at and I cried. A week later, the kid did it again… and this time the teacher saw him do it. Felt so good to have the principal apologizing profusely to me, while that little jerk got a mouthful from his parents” (source).
“He got suspended I got a peaceful classroom”
“I had a 5th grader who looked like a white version of Cleveland Brown Jr. Right down to the hanging cheeks and no neck. This kid was a know-it-all menace. He’d interrupt me, do that weird Rhianna hand twirl, and say, ‘We’ll actually Miiiiissssssssss…’ and then state some random fact that was often wrong or irrelevant. Well eventually while on lunch duty I see that his lunch everyday is a can of soda, a bag of chips, and tons of candy. Like the bag is busting at the seams. I alert the principal because I’m worried that his grandmother (who was raising him) wasn’t feeding him properly. Principal calls the grandma and grandma gets angry. She was letting him pack his own lunch and wasn’t checking it. So she’s embarrassed that we’ve called her on it. She tells us that she will only pack healthy food now. She then tells us that the kid’s doctor said he needs a serious diet. She tells us that he cannot have ANY candy. Cut to a week later. The kid is still being a little terror and pisses off another student. Student runs to principal and says that the kid has been sneaking candy to school every day. The principal goes to talk to him. The kid shoves a chocolate bar into his mouth and the principal takes away the Blow Pop sucker he has. This kid proceeds to roll around on his belly across the entire hallway, screeching and crying so hard that he’s choking on the half chewed chocolate bar. Chocolate spittle and tears everywhere. A tiny kindergarten student walks by him and says, ‘You look like a baby.’ The kid stops wallowing long enough to punch the little student. He got suspended for violence and I got a peaceful classroom” (source).
“He got fired. I laughed”
“I teach college students to be teachers. My first year doing this, I had a student who was always late, turned in the bare minimum of work, always had excuses. I told him he had to improve because if he did this on the job, he’d get fired. He kept coasting and the other profs let him get by. First teaching job? He got fired. I laughed (in the privacy of my office) and I’m not sorry” (source).
All The Adults Were Rooting For The Hitter
“Last year I had a 7 year old in my class who was just a pain. He’s the only child I’ve ever taught who I’ve actually disliked. He would throw things around the classroom, pinch other children, stab them with pencils, he was rude to everyone and would always blame it on someone else. Talking to his parents wouldn’t help because they believed everything he said, even over adults who had actually witnessed him doing it. They would give excuses and say that other children were blaming him or that he was being picked on. There was nothing wrong with this child other than he had been brought up with no consequences in his life. Anyway, one break time he was harassing another child and I guess they just had enough and this usually mild mannered child just punched him in the stomach causing the horrible child to wet himself. When following the indecent up all of the other children who witnessed it (around 5 or 6) completely closed ranks and denied that it ever happened. I can’t usually condone when children hit back but you better believe all the adults that have had to deal with this child were rooting for the hitter” (source).
“He went down like a sack of potatoes”
“1st grade teacher here. Had a boy that would not stop hitting kids with basketballs. He’d run up and pop the ball right at students. Sometimes he’d toss it real fast, and say catch, but most often, he’d just throw it at children on the playground who were completely unaware. This kid seemed like he was trying to knock other children down, he’d laugh his ass off if he saw someone stumble, or fall after they were hit by his basketball. After talking with his parents, we told them we’d be taking the balls away from him until after spring break, to see if his behavior improved. As promised he was allowed to play basketball again after break, but we warned he better behave. It didn’t take even 5 minutes before he stalked, and shot that Spaulding special at this poor little girl, knocking her down. She cried, and pointed at him, mulch dangling from her hair, ‘He’s mean Ms. Mysty!’ I agreed, and told her he’d have the basketballs taken away for the rest of the school year.As I got up and walked his way, he started to bolt. He ran out of the playground, past the sand pit, and on to the basketball court. He maintained eye contact with me, and before I could take another step, a stray ball from a 5th grade game hit the edge of the backboard, bounced off, and hit that little sh–t square in the face…. He went down like a sack of potatoes. Of course I ran over to him, and made sure he was ok (he may be acting like a little sh–t, but he’s still just a child) I called for the nurse since he was out cold. He woke up with me above him, and started crying saying he’d never do it again. I’ll have to wait and see this coming year if karma kicked his a– or not, because he didn’t want to pick up another basketball the rest of the school year” (source).
“His fingers happened to be there”
“I teach kindergarten, and I had a terrible, terrible child in my class last year. He liked to pull his desk away from the girl sitting across from him so her pencils and crayons would go falling on the floor. Finally, one day she got fed up and slammed her desk back into his. Unfortunately for him, his fingers happened to be there. I had to resist the urge to be like ‘that’s what you get!’ but instead I just reminded him that that’s why I said not to move his desk away from the rest of the table and sent him to the nurse” (source).
An Ego The Size Of Texas
“I was teaching music. I had a flutist who was fantastic. He practiced four hours every day and wanted to be the next James Galway (guy who does the flutie Shire theme in the Lord of the Rings). Unfortunately he had an ego the size of Texas. He told the girl next to him, who also wanted to be a professional flutist, that she was abysmal and should just go kill herself. He refused to audition for our local honor band, which was part of his grade, because he refused to lower himself to playing with such talentless musicians. He would bitch about my conducting in class when I wouldn’t cue him because I was too busy cueing the low brass who needed help with their entrances aka teaching. He refused to play a theme from a popular video game at a concert, something that we play to get people to attend because we need that money to keep the program going. It was apparently ‘not artistic enough’. Then he refused to show up to a concert because he was embarrassed to be seen performing with his high school band. So he failed band and I kicked him out. But he was talented and he wanted to be a flutist, so he auditioned for Juliard and made it in. Then he quits before the first semester is over because he believed he was more talented than his teachers. He earned a symphony gig in a very well known group thanks to a blind audition where he wasn’t permitted to talk and reveal how much of a jerk he was. That lasted two weeks before he dissed the very famous conductor’s conducting and got fired. His career is dead because he couldn’t keep his ego in check, and I find it immensely satisfying” (source).
“I’m an elementary school teacher. There was a ‘problem child’ in my class who thought it was cool to not listen to teacher advice, shrug off reprimands, and make snarky comments. He was hard to manage, but by no means a bad kid. We have a rule at our school that there’s ‘no running on the deck’ outside of our classroom. The official reason for this is “that it’s dangerous”, but the rule is often ignored when no teacher is looking. One day the entire class and myself were standing out on the deck, lined up for lunch, when this particular student was coming back from getting something in the front building. He decided to blatantly ignore the ‘no running on the deck’ rule that he had been reminded of probably a hundred times before, and he began to sprint towards the class. Right as I yelled his name, he tripped and went FLYING. It was an epic wipeout that sent him sprawling across the deck, which the entire class saw. I checked if he was okay, and didn’t say anything about it at the time, but I was able to remind him later that we do have rules for a reason. I did feel rather like justice had been served in that one delicious moment” (source).
Late Yet Satisfying Karma
“Kid was horrible to my best friend in high school (8 years ago) and got all his other friends to join in. They called her a cow, moo-ed at her as she walked by, changed her pc background to a cow, and did other stupid stuff similar to that. 8 years later, low and behold, the bully walks into the bar were at last weekend. He is fat, bald, and spent 20 minutes groveling to her about how horrible he was and how unhappy he is in his life now” (source).