Friday, 9 April 2010

Have you heard the news?

On Monday I saw the head teacher of the first school again. I gave her a copy of the letter that I had written (edited by M from my French family), that I had emailed to the Inspection Academique, quitting my job as a teacher of English in primary schools.

She told me that she had phoned someone who had told her that it was possible for me to hold the two jobs at the same time. I explained that as my working day started at 9am it would be physically impossible for me to fit the hours into the week. (The primary schools are closed all day Wednesday).

The next Headmistress was not happy at all. Being a bit sensitive, a bit psychic I pick up on such things.

That and the fact that she was turning crimson and shouting “But what am I going to do!, what am I going to do?”

She decided that she was going to telephone Someone. She wanted me to take the class right now (10 minutes early).

CM2 were as wearyingly, strength-sappingly misbehaved as per usual. I struggled onwards. This would be their last lesson with me. Yes!

Ten minutes after the official end of the class, the headmistress re-appeared.

She stomped off to the back of the class and sat down looking furious.

I finished off what I was trying to do, and the children soon forgot she was there and carried on as per usual.

I finished up. The head teacher remained seated and barked out “So this is your last English lesson here”

“Yes” I replied, keeping all trace of glee out of my voice and looking mournful.

“But if you stop teaching, I will not be able to cover for the teacher who teaches Spanish, so there will not be any Spanish lessons either” “What is going to happen?”

There are some conversations which it is redundant to get involved in. A younger me would probably have crumbled and found some way of continuing, but as the lessons had been legalised teacher abuse I had no incentive so to do.

The fact that she should have been in the classroom with me throughout the lessons was another issue, especially as they are such a difficult class to manage.

I said “Goodbye” to the children and headed off to teach my 7 year olds for the 25 minutes that remained of their lesson time.

As I walked off down the corridor, I could hear the head teacher screaming (yet again) at the class regarding their abominable behaviour.

My last lesson at the other school was the following morning. The children seemed to enjoy themselves and we ended up with Simon Says. Then the lunchtime bell rang. The teacher explained that this was their last lesson with me, because I was going to work at another school.

Some of the boys came up to me and solemnly shook my hand. Two of the girls put their arms round my legs.

Then it was time to hit the road. Ouch! Now what did I do that for?

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