There is a price to be paid for using examples in English grammar which are drawn from current events. While illustrating some previously abstruse point in grammar (which now, of course, is as mother’s milk to me in my reborn I-know-what-a-second-conditional-is manifestation in my present school) I made the mistake of referring to the Eurovision Song Contest.
The equivalent of my first year sixth were aghast that the Mighty Intellectual Titan who had previously been teaching them had so blatantly revealed his common feet of clay by even alluding to such a common and vulgar little programme. It was in vain that I pleaded that I only watched the thing in a Gnostic spirit of Post-Modernist angst tinged with Surrealistic irony.
One of my students, at the end of the lesson came up to me with downcast eyes and disconsolately shaking hands said, “I am sorry Stephen, but I do not think I can respect you anymore!” One is tempted to think that such histrionics would place my students firmly in the midst of the audience in the hall of the actual event!
The devil was stalking the dining hall of the teachers this afternoon as one of my colleagues was carrying one of the Forbidden Objects. This was pointed out to me by a number of my “concerned” colleagues who, knowing my weakness, wanted to see my reaction when confronted by the actuality of an i-pad within my reach. It really does seem as if circumstances are propelling me towards a purchase – but I remain firm at the moment. But visibly weakening. Visibly.
Today is the last day of the month and from tomorrow it is acceptable to start the countdown in days to the end of term.
Before that delectable event there is the small question of examinations. We have the confluence of two streams of testing the external and the internal. The external examinations are for the various levels of English that we teach and the internal ones are for the normal rash of periodic tests on which we thrive.
This spate of examination should be the last before the kids finally depart. Thank God!
The equivalent of my first year sixth were aghast that the Mighty Intellectual Titan who had previously been teaching them had so blatantly revealed his common feet of clay by even alluding to such a common and vulgar little programme. It was in vain that I pleaded that I only watched the thing in a Gnostic spirit of Post-Modernist angst tinged with Surrealistic irony.
One of my students, at the end of the lesson came up to me with downcast eyes and disconsolately shaking hands said, “I am sorry Stephen, but I do not think I can respect you anymore!” One is tempted to think that such histrionics would place my students firmly in the midst of the audience in the hall of the actual event!
The devil was stalking the dining hall of the teachers this afternoon as one of my colleagues was carrying one of the Forbidden Objects. This was pointed out to me by a number of my “concerned” colleagues who, knowing my weakness, wanted to see my reaction when confronted by the actuality of an i-pad within my reach. It really does seem as if circumstances are propelling me towards a purchase – but I remain firm at the moment. But visibly weakening. Visibly.
Today is the last day of the month and from tomorrow it is acceptable to start the countdown in days to the end of term.
Before that delectable event there is the small question of examinations. We have the confluence of two streams of testing the external and the internal. The external examinations are for the various levels of English that we teach and the internal ones are for the normal rash of periodic tests on which we thrive.
This spate of examination should be the last before the kids finally depart. Thank God!
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