This happened back in the early 2000s, during my junior year of high school. Our district had just opened a third high school, so most of the teachers were brand new. One of those hires was our band director. On paper, he was highly qualified – university-level training, experience teaching at a college but none of that mattered when it came to teaching actual high school students.
From day one, his approach was abrasive and absurd. He expected us to operate at a university level, berating students for failing to grasp concepts none of us had ever learned. Class often devolved into long tangents unrelated to music, leaving at least 2–3 students in tears daily. Complaints to the administration did nothing – at best, they’d remind him to “be kinder,” which was ignored.

Here’s The Original Post:

















































The breaking point came in his “intro to music theory” class. This was supposed to be a beginner-level course covering things like chords, key signatures, and notation. Instead, he handed out a quiz on day one that no one could answer.
Imagine signing up for pre-algebra and being handed an advanced calculus test – except the teacher yelled at you for failing it. By the second class, enrollment dropped from 25 to 15, and within two weeks only six of us remained.
For those of us who stayed, he softened slightly, treating us as though we were the elite few who “deserved” to be there. We didn’t buy into it – we just had enough background to understand a fraction of what he taught. But the bigger problem was the administration: repeated complaints, tears, and frustration were filed away, yet nothing changed.
Then came the final exam. Instead of holding it in class, he wanted to give it early so that on the last day we could have a class party at a nearby IHOP.
We immediately recognized the problem: school policy prohibited leaving campus without permission, and we would miss second-period finals if we went. When we tried to explain this to him, his solution was to say, “I’ll go, you can come if you want, but otherwise stay silent in the classroom.”
We saw an opportunity. Without coordinating in advance, all six of us decided to follow the literal instructions. We informed our AP English teacher about the plan, giving full details of where we’d be, who we’d be with, and the timing. The teacher reluctantly agreed we’d have to make up any missed time, but she appreciated the honesty.
On the day of the exam, getting to IHOP took forever due to traffic and the new restaurant’s chaos. By the time we returned, we were halfway through second-period. The administration had noticed, security was involved, and our English teacher was fuming.
Attendance was checked; the teacher’s plan had left students missing and unaccounted for. At that point, there was no ambiguity – the band director had violated multiple school policies and endangered students.
He received what he called a “private reprimand,” but the whole school heard it. His response? Confusion and anger, blaming the administration for being “incompetent” and insisting we were old enough to drive.
By the end of the day, he was fired. Students were gleeful but quiet, partly because we had technically followed his instructions. Most didn’t know why he was gone, but we smiled knowingly.
Experts in education emphasize that credentials alone do not make an effective teacher. Emotional intelligence, empathy, and the ability to adjust lessons to student readiness are critical (Goleman, 2006).
This teacher had none of those. Research also shows that negative classroom environments – especially those with public shaming – can cause students anxiety and disengagement, reducing learning outcomes (Hattie, 2009).
Let’s dive into the reactions from Reddit:
Many shared experiences with teachers who tried to teach at their idealized level instead of the students’ actual level, creating frustration and fear.











Others emphasized how the students’ collective action was a textbook case of “malicious compliance”, following instructions to the letter to reveal their absurdity (Bennett & Robinson, 2000).







Some users shared similar experiences with music and choir teachers who made learning miserable or impossible, resulting in mass student dropouts or the teachers’ eventual firing.































At the end of the day, we weren’t out to get the teacher fired but by exposing his incompetence and disregard for rules, we did what the administration had failed to do for months: protect students and hold a teacher accountable.
It’s a story I still tell because it reminds me that even in rigid hierarchies, collective action and ethical courage matter.
TL;DR: Jerk teacher ignored policies and students, tried to take us off-campus for a party, we complied literally, and the administration finally fired him.







