Two days to the strike!

It seemed darker when I got up today than it did yesterday: surely a reflection of my depression at facing another six period day with a two hour meeting at the end of it all.

To be fair the meeting last night ended on time (so I only spent 11 hours in school rather than the 12 I had expected) though I had, ostentatiously, packed away my computer and was standing up ready to go when it was actually brought to an end.

In theory as the 3ESO are going out on a trip I should gain a free period, bringing my total teaching periods down to a full-day 5 – but no, of course not, I am taking a lesson for my colleague who is in Australia – an extended absence known in advance.  And people say absolutely nothing.  It’s shaming.  Our lack of action about blatantly unprofessional behaviour on the part of management merely encourages them to do what they have always done and get away with absolute murder.

I have noticed that the timetable for the projects has been rewritten and one of my colleagues has been put in my place for the afternoon when I am off.  Scab!

I will find out what happened to my classes when I was on strike and I will take some sort of action against the scabs.  And the school that employs them.  I am beginning to sound like a toned down, but equally ineffective King Lear threatening to do “such things!” but people have to realize that inaction is also a powerful form of action and they must be held accountable for their position.  As my mother once said when faced with cutting down the family budget, “No more mushrooms!”  I am sure that I can find some equally personal form of repayment for the lack of support.

It’s not as if my colleagues have to do anything; they simply have to refuse to do more – which is their legal right.  And of course their duty as colleagues.  Not as scabs.

The first lesson over I am now well into the second which is the cover for a colleague whose absence was known in advance.  I have now made it known to all members of the management that I regard his non-coverage by a supply teacher as a grotesque joke.  For whatever use that it apart from making me persona non grata to them!  I don’t particularly care.

My next lesson is one with two groups made into one class.  I have no intention of “teaching” them in any meaningful way, so they can continue with their projects.

Every so often I remember that there is another bloody meeting at the end of the day and a sharp pang of despair mixed with absolute hatred convulses me.

When is the last time that I read a book?  Given the enervating effect of this interminable semester I do not naturally reach for reading material.  Even my subscription to The Guardian has lapsed and I am too lackadaisical to renew it!

On the positive side Toni has managed to put some 80s songs on my new swimming mp3.  Ever since I bought the mp3 player that worked by passing the music through the bones of the side of the head I have like the idea of music while I swim.  Unfortunately the original device had a very limited storage capacity and it worked (it really did!) only when my head was submerged.  My original idea of getting to know “difficult” pieces of music while swimming had to jettisoned very quickly as the subtleties of string quartets did not make it through the waves and it was only the insistent beat of pop that was truly effective.

Replacement devices have been woefully inadequate with problems connected with every part of the machine.  I particularly dislike the earplugs that are provided with most headsets and their lack of comfort is only matched by their sheer inefficiency.

The present machine is untested, but the fact that you have to screw the earphone into the device is at least a cause for some hope that it will be waterproof.  The earphones also appear to be designed for swimming and fit more snugly than the earplugs that I currently wear.  It is all looking good.

An added feature is that the machine itself is not built into goggles or on a strap; it is designed to fit on the wearer’s own choice of goggles.  Another intelligent aspect.

It is pink though.

There was no choice and I welcome the opportunity to challenge sexist colour preconceptions. 

Or rather I welcome the opportunity to rationalize the ownership of an mp3 player whose colour would not have been my first choice.

And there is a light on it which sometimes flashes blue.

Just in case people had not noted the pink capsule on the back of my head the light flashes to catch their wandering attention.  It also lets me know what type of playback has been chosen.  Though, as it is at the back of my head what the hell am I supposed to know about it?  No, I have to conclude that the sole reason for its being there is there to draw attention to its inappropriate colour!

Argh!  I just remembered this evening’s meeting – be still my beating heart!

I have just been asked if I am going on strike and I replied in the affirmative.  I see no reason not to share this information with the pupils – but I will not discuss my actions as I feel that would be something beyond information and into the dangerous area of undue influence. One must tread carefully in such matters.  Not, again, that I truly give a damn.

Another lesson and babysitting again – though this one is slightly different because this is the group on whose projects I have been working.  At least all members of this class have their own computers and are therefore able to get on with “research” by themselves. 

Though I have to say that their powers of discrimination and the amount of time they devote to reading are both very limited so that, if they don’t get easily digested information on their specific search term at once, they give up.  This is an approach to learning that we are going to have to cope with soon or our pupils are going to be indulging in even more superficial learning, as they get older.

There is something very touching in seeing a colleague come to a decision about taking action.  Over the lunch table she found the strength to put her doubts to one side and join us.  I am sure that I will be blamed because she was sitting opposite me!  An accusation I would be happy to accept.  Now We Are Five!  That is something; certainly more than I expected – though I still don’t know how I am going to get to the demonstration!

The Meeting was The Meeting; tedious, useless and another confirmation of Sartre’s dictum that “Hell is other people.”  The meeting was scheduled to end at seven o’clock so I walked out at that time.  Enough time had been spent listening to teachers who should buy tape recorders if they want to listen to the sound of their own voices and not inflict their half-backed aperçus on the rest of us.

Another day done and another day nearer the end of the week.

Still counting!