An Explanation: the OTHER writing class.

I have had a wonderful experience here, at Marist College, so far. I have met tons of amazing people and have gotten to take place in some great classes, except for one. I owe a fair explanation for my sudden intrusion into this class, and here it is. The writing II class I was in previously drove me completely batty, and I only had three classes. I will spare the teacher's name because she's someone I may have to deal with again. She had the strangest teaching style for a writing class, although when I describe it, it will probably make total sense. Our first class was a boring nuts and bolts class, but I already had a feeling about her, and it wasn't good. I figured I would give it a shot and see what it was really about though. The second class started off with her giving us all strange postcards and instructing us to write either a short story about the picture, or a unique description or something like that. Personally, I can't just write on command about a weird postcard, and I'm not very good with that sort of creative writing, especially when it isn't explain on how it will improve my writing (I'm a political science major, and quite frankly I have a very brief to the point writing style typically, so this was a stretch for me). I could understand this as a writing task however and strained through it, it's what happened next that made me write in my "to-do" section of my agenda "drop writing II". So we all complete the task and then she picked people to read, as soon as they read she would pick out two or three things and tell them that they needed to fix it, in the most critical tones ever. Then she would ask the class if they agreed, most times we didn't. One of our assignments was to write about our parents generation and their freedom compared to ours, where we had a more supervised upbringing. One of the kids in my class wrote something to the effect "if I were to roam around for three hours with my friends without telling my parents I probably wouldn't see them again for three weeks" as in he was going to be grounded, she picked this out immediately and said it was unclear and needed rewording and all this, she then asked the class, and we all explained to her it made perfect sense, she simply blamed her misunderstanding on an "age gap". There was another student who wrote about his experience in hockey, he made a reference to the "zebra" as in the referee, no one got the reference and he explained it, she then harped on him for at least ten minutes about how to change it to make it more clear, his answer "I could just say referee" she then told him "No, I think you know how to fix it", how did she know?! No one else in the class could see a better alternative but apparently this poor kid in the depths of his mind did, and he better figure it out fast. She was one of those teachers who thought they were so well versed in what they were teaching that they missed the simple things. She tried to look at everything so in depth and critically she just wasn't getting it. Personally, I like to be instructed before I have a task to do, which never happened in my other class, we were first given a task and told to complete it, then told what we had done wrong. I have never disliked a teacher so much in my life after only having so few classes. I felt like she just expected us to immediately know everything that she wanted, to write fruity little stories about a postcard with a salsa dancer on it. I'm sure that the students in her class will do fine, but I could not bare to take 29 more classes with her (I was so desperate I counted).