drag it across the chalk board to make musical bars. But i was never assaulted by my teacher with it. So that is a good thing.

Who didn’t like kids talking during his teaching at the blackboard. I sat in the 3rd row watching him when all of a sudden he turns fast and fires the blackboard eraser into the class.
I naturally ducked, but heard an audible smack! He nailed a buddy right in the forehead above his right eye!
Stammering he apologized to the kid saying he was trying to hit the kids that had been talking to him?
My buddy, crying tells him,”But you hit me dammit!”
Nothing happened to the teacher. The buddy had an angry welt on his forehead for a couple days.
If that thing had been 2 inches lower
Right in the eye!

...until the teacher turned to face the chalk board before we threw a spit wad to make it stick on the face of the clock over the door.

We waited till a 3 day weekend and duct taped a partially opened can of sardines underneath one of his desk drawers. The following week they practically had to take apart the desk to find it.

...Midway thru first semester, we started dissecting dogfish sharks in class; these critters are about two feet long, and saturated in formaldehyde. After we cut off the tail, one student got the bright idea of putting it in the teacher's sandwich. (He kept his lunch in the lab's specimen refrigerator. Lunchtime was right in the middle of our class-time.) So while he was helping another group of students, this kid got into the fridge, opened his sandwich bag, and stuck the tail into his sandwich. Lunchtime, we're all watching the teacher when he pulls out his sandwich and bites into it, spits it out onto his lunchsack, and opens the sandwich to find this shark tail. He slams the sandwich down on the table, looks at it, shoots dirty looks at the Bio students in the group eating lunch, then carries the sandwich out of the cafeteria. Comes back with the principal, who herds us all over to one corner, and starts asking us who put the tail in the sandwich. Long story short, the guilty kid finally confesses, gets suspended from school for five days, and flunks the class. The teacher was such a brusque asshole, that my sympathies were always with the kid. If the teacher were still alive, he'd be a tRumper.

And throw whatever was at hand, sometimes one of his shoes. The worst was a heavy wooden book end. That’s back when they still paddled kids. He had a baseball bat that was split long ways and I got a couple swats from that. Aside from his anger management issue he was a pretty good science teacher. Just lucky he never injured anyone. At least my year there, I’m sure he’d get fired nowadays

She could be facing the chalk board, slip the spongy part of the eraser out of the plastic cover and toss it as she turned to hit whoever was talking. You had to marvel at both her hearing and accuracy.

She should have been evaluated for the Cy Young.

For me it was Sister Annette. I agree that they would both have done well in the big leagues.

... but none of my teachers used them.

-- Mal

on his nice clothes. He was very well-dressed, so I understood. One of the best teachers I ever had, and I'm still in touch with him.

I don't remember any of them using it as a weapon.

I've heard horror stories from older generations about how they would get hit in their left hand with rulers because they would write with their dominate hand. Apparently, it was a big no-no to be left-handed back in the day.

my teacher reminded us lefties how lucky we were that we were allowed to use our dominant hand. Over the years, I taught myself to use my right hand just because her comments were so scary. I use my left hand the most, but on desktops, I mouse with my right hand exclusively.

oppressed or punished for being a lefty. I'm a righty. I've tried to use my left hand to open lids on jars without much success.

at elementary school in an older building. There was a huge closet across the length of the wall. One time, all of the kids got back from lunch before the teacher got in the room. They all hid in the closet. My nephew had the same teacher and his class moved all of their desks into the closets while he was out of the room. I thought that was pretty funny.

My daughter also mentioned that a boy made a big show of blowing his nose and taking the used tissue to toss in the waste basket. He had secretly wrapped a rock in the tissue, and when it hit the metal trash can, it made an audible thump, which cracked all of the kids up. I thought that was pretty funny, too.

I had a cruel 3rd grade teacher. Really hard to get over bad teachers.

I had a college math prof who would have benefited from them. He would write a math problem on the board with chalk, erase mistakes with his fingers, run his hand through his hair, then put his hand in his pocket while he wrote some more. By the end of the class, he was covered with chalk: his hair, face, clothes.

He was one of the best teachers I ever had. Very nice natured, explained everything until everyone understood, never made anyone feel stupid for not getting a concept. Oddly enough, I was the only one who could read his writing - even he himself had trouble reading what he wrote!

I attended a boys boarding school in the SF Bay area for 8th and 9th grade (66-68). The school was a military academy owned by the Episcopal Church so the faculty was heavy to Episcopal churchmen and retired military plus some others. My second year the headmaster and art teacher, both married and non-Episcopal nor career military, fell in love Spring 1968 and ran off together. So we got Col. Clark and a young English woman for art for two months, cannot recall her name, but she is focus of my tale.

I had her for art and also for an all grade study hall. She was pretty, dressed fashionably, and had a distinct English accent and word usage. The classes, particularly the late afternoon study hall were filled with hormonal adolescent boys.

Miss English Art Teacher called a chalk board eraser a "rubber" and a reminder to note that the boys in the class operated on about the mental level of Jake from 2 and 1/2 Men as far as females and humor. In her world a chalk board eraser was a "rubber" and there was no other name. So a major emphasis in the classes was to get her to say "rubber" and to get her to bend over and pick up stuff (so as to better reveal her hind quarters or provide a peek down her top). She caught on well enough to get embarrassed and blush but certainly with "rubber" for eraser she never did completely figure out the great humor (but every day she would get competition for those that wanted to stay after class and use the "rubbers" to clear the chalk board). I am sure she was glad when the temporary job was over.

That was my last year at that sick place as well. I was there because the Episcopal Church had a church dating from the Gold Rush in the mountain village that was my home and had a Summer seminary that on the property adjacent to my grand parents resort (so folks from the Church and school both used dining and other services from my grandparents resort for decades). There was a local 2 room elementary school and the nearest high school was 30 miles via windy, narrow, mountain roads to an Indian Reservation School (where I ultimately did graduate HS).