I have been seeing a psychologist for the past few months. Over time suppressed memories, memories I had buried for years came out. Apparently I have been abused both physically, verbally and emotionally by one of the teaching staff in primary school. I'd like to know if anyone else has experienced the same sort of treatment as I did when I was a child of eight years old. To give you a taster of what I am talking about, here is an excerpt of what I wrote for my psychologist. Coincidently while I was in a session with her today I felt like it was a role reversal. You see, while I read out my article to her about the abuse I suffered at the hands of this teacher, instead of me shedding tears the psychologist was the one who did. As it was I who suffered this abuse you would think I would break down and shed some tears, but no, imagine my surprise when my psychologist did. She felt so sorry for the "child" who was mistreated by this bully of a teacher. The teacher she said was supposed to be there to educate the students not abuse them. Anyhow here is that excerpt for you all to see, so you can understand where I am coming from. If anyone else would like to share their story with me I would like that. You are a bas****. As a child you made my life hell. You physically abused me by slapping me on the head, punching me in the arms and kicking me in the ankles and legs. You even went as far as putting my head in one of the litter bins. To further humiliate me, you ridiculed me in both, English and Irish lessons. In English class when you asked me a question about my home work, you read my essay aloud for all the class to hear. Every two sentences, you would pause to discuss what I had written down, humiliating me further in the process. When Fuzzy Wuzzy, one of the other teachers children, asked: “How do we go about writing this essay” You simply said to the class: “use your imaginations”. Well I used my imagination. The topic for the essay was “Holidaying in the USA”. As I have never been on holidays to the states as child before, I used my imagination and described places I had seen on television. Places like the streets of San Francisco, The Golden Gate Bridge, New York and Los Angeles. You started making fun of me by reading out these places, as if they were punchlines from a joke. The whole class had a laugh at my expense, while you were mocking my essay. On top of the essay, during one English lesson, we were doing spelling and thesaurus. You asked me to explain what the word consortium meant. I said that I did not know what it meant myself, so I could not possibly explain it to the class. You asked the whole class to raise their hands if they didn’t understand what consortium meant. Well half the class raised their hands. Instead of explaining what the word meant, you came over to abuse me some more. You asked me in an aggressive tone: do I ever “pay attention at all” in your class and I said I did. “Well then how come you can’t explain what consortium means, when we have covered it in last weeks lessons”. I could not even tell you that I, along with half the classroom did not know what it meant. When I tried to explain, you told me “not to answer you back” and “speak when I was spoken to”. You then turned on me again saying: “I must be so stupid, I can’t even explain what a simple wordlike consortium means”. Have I “ever taken out my books at home and done any studying”. Not even allowing me to answer, you continued verbally abusing me. Saying: “No wonder why you are rubbish at every subject”. “You think you are better than the whole class, so much so you believe studying is beyond you”. Well you put me in a corner on my own, at the front of the class near your desk. It was so you could keep an eye on me while I was studying. Yes studying. I was crying my eyes out that day and you told me to: “Stop crying like a baby”. My punishment for not knowing what consortium meant, was to sit in the corner the rest of the day studying. In the meantime you continued to teach the rest of the class, even though half of them didn’t know the answer to the question either. It was only myself you punished, and you took great pleasure in doing it. You even had a smirk on your face, when you told me to sit in front of the classroom and do some studying. A few weeks later, during English lessons we were discussing the Easter Rising. This was not supposed to be discussed until history lessons. But as one student thought it was linked in with English you decided to spend a few minutes talking about it. Again I was in your firing line and you decided I was going to be the spokesman on the Easter Rising. When I could not give you a satisfactory answer to your question, you got me to repeat my answers for all the class to hear. You tormented me and said: “ As an Irishman, how could I not know my Irish history and more so anything about the Easter Rising”. Are you completely thick, or is it the fact that these happened way before you were even born, the past doesn’t seem to have any affect on you. Well you f****, Irish history may not have cause me any trouble, but your treatment of me did. It does so to this very day. About two months later we were being taught Irish. During the lesson you asked me (in Irish) to tell you what the word “Madra” meant in English. As I said before, I did not understand Irish. So when you spoke to me in Irish, I didn’t know what you said. You pulled me up out of the chair, by my ear and decided to bring me down to first babies. After having me stand in front of the class, you then asked the children what the word “Madra” was. When they told me the answer was “Dog” you turned to me with a big smile across your face and said: “See how easy that was. Even these children know the answer. How stupid do you feel now”. When we left first babies and headed back to our own classroom we stopped. You turned to me smiling, saying: “Well boy! You will never forget that lesson in a hurry”. I turned to you with tears streaming down my cheeks, anger burning in my eyes. Lashing out with my foot, I kicked you in between the legs. Rounding on you again, with a smile on my own face, I said: “ you won’t forget this lesson in a hurry either”.