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Jonathan Carroll
Professor Blair
UWRT 1103-023
2 February 2016
My Experience With Ms. Stark

It was 2:00 in the afternoon, and as fourth period began at Asheboro High School,
students took their time, slowly filing into their respective classrooms. I was headed to Ms.
Starks classroom for Multimedia and Webpage Design. It was a typical high school computer
lab, lined from front to back with long interconnected desks, on top of which were desktop PCs
and monitors. At the back of the room there was an enormous window that offered a view of the
rear parking lot, as well as the bus pickup area. At the front of the room stood the teachers desk,
a podium, a whiteboard, and a projector. As I was getting my notebook, pencil, and my other
supplies ready, Ms. Stark entered the room.
Ms. Stark was an extremely large woman, with medium-length dark red hair. When I say
extremely large, Im referring to width, not height- she actually waddled into the classroom
under the stress of her own weight. Although she always walked in such a precarious manner, I
never actually witnessed her stumble or fall throughout the entire semester she taught me. She
made her way over to her desk and plopped down into a large leather chair, which was where she
remained for the rest of the period.
What Ms. Stark considered learning differed drastically from the opinions of other
teachers Ive had in the past. With the exception of test days, every period consisted of her
reading a PowerPoint, which was pre-made for the curriculum. As she stared at the board,
reading from the comfort of her chair, we took notes, making sure each slide was copied word

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for word. No definition was left out, no words were abbreviated, that is, if you didnt want to fail
the entire course. A handwritten carbon-copy of the PowerPoint was required to receive any
credit at all. Every two weeks, Ms. Stark would walk across each row, flipping through each
students notebook, her beady eagle-like eyes scanning the pages of notes with the precision of a
laser, looking for any wrong wording or abbreviations. As soon as the notes were graded, the
same two week process repeated, until we received the occasional online quiz or test.
Throughout the semester, we were never assigned any projects or activities to help apply any
concepts we were supposedly learning. It was the most useless, boring, and worthless class I took
in high school. Its actually left such a huge scar in my memory to the point that I still get
frustrated thinking about it five years later.
Besides never assigning anything, Ms. Stark exhibited many other differences from any
of my other teachers I had in the past. One of the differences that stood out most to me was the
fact she could not accept being wrong. Often, when she would explain things during the lectures
she would present completely irrelevant examples on topics she didnt understand herself. If
anyone tried correcting her, she would instantly shoot down whatever idea you stated, and
moved on with the lecture. She would also get infuriated over the smallest things. For instance,
at the beginning of class one day there was a student standing by the window in the back of the
classroom. As he was talking to another classmate, he was fiddling with the rod that adjusts the
blinds, not even really paying attention to it. When Ms. Stark entered the room, she turned and
stared at the boy. The class went silent, as they knew what was coming simply from the look of
utter disgust on her face. It was as if she had never seen anything quite so horrible in all her life.
She raised her finger slowly, and pointed at the poor fellow beside the window. DO NOT,
EVER, TOUCH THE BLINDS AGAIN. It was the loudest I had heard a teacher talk in my

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entire education. SIT DOWN, NOW. Her face had now turned a hue resembling that of a
tomato. She turned, without a word, and plopped down in her usual leather chair. The student,
who was still frozen with shock, slowly made his way over to his desk and sat down, humiliated.
Although I tried my best to stay on Ms. Starks good side throughout the semester, a
situation arose one day where I was forced to push her limits. At the time I was a member of the
cross country team, so naturally I would occasionally have to leave early to travel to away meets.
Ms. Stark was a very careful woman about these sorts of things. She didnt want students making
excuses to miss valuable class time. This being the case, she would always check her email to
make sure students were truthful and actually had to leave early for sports. On one of the days I
had an away meet, I raised my hand and asked to leave. She told me to wait as she checked her
email for my coachs message. As it turned out, my coach had forgotten to send one out that day.
I told her that was probably the case, but she wouldnt hear any of it. She flat out refused for me
to go, even after I told her I would miss the bus if I couldnt leave. After she refused again, I was
absolutely done dealing with her. Ignoring her yells of protest, I stood up and got out of the
classroom as fast as I could. My freshman mind was terrified of facing her the next day, but I
was able to explain the situation to my coach who later sent a message to help me out of the hole
I had dug.
Experiences such as those quickly taught the class there wasnt much we could do about
the situation we were going to be in for the semester. We tried our best just to stay on her good
side, but it was difficult at times. Besides the frustration of dealing with her, we still had the
ridiculous curriculum and note-taking requirements to worry about. It was as if time was
stretched out while you were in that classroom. One semester turned into a year, a year into a
century, and a century millennium. Youd think I was exaggerating, but that was exactly what it

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felt like to experience that class. While other classrooms from the past are but a blur in my
memory, this seemingly bland and forgettable computer lab remains imprinted vividly in my
mind. When the bell would sound to indicate the end of the day, a wave of relief would wash
over me, knowing that I had made it through another day in hell.
In retrospect, the whole idea of that class seemed so ridiculous to me for the longest time.
I just didnt understand what Ms. Starks intentions were, other than to create the most miserable
learning environment possible. Then I realized again just how lazy the woman was. With the way
she set up her teaching structure, she would only have to spend 15 minutes grading every two
weeks. Everything else she had to do just consisted of reading off of slides, and online tests,
which were scored and inputted automatically. Thinking back on it, she was surprisingly
brilliant. The way she designed her classroom enabled students to pass the exam, with very little
effort on her end. I dont believe it was morally right by any means, simply because it didnt
teach anything useful to the students, but at least she was still technically qualified to keep her
job.
In conclusion, Ms. Stark was absolutely the worst teacher Ive had out of my entire
education. I simply cant emphasize it enough, she was the embodiment of laziness, and she was
the definition of whats wrong with the high school education system in the United States.
Everything she did was optimized to make things easier on her, without any regard to what the
students would have to go through as a result. I look back on this teacher not as a human being,
but as a symbol- a symbol representing what a teacher should try to avoid at all costs.