I have been stymied by my own housekeeping!
My briefcase was ludicrously overweight,
especially considering I had no school textbooks or marking in it! The OU course books are solid things and with
the bits and with the electronic bits and pieces that go with study it was full
before I had the inconvenience of actual school stuff to contend with.
Having got up at some absurd time this
morning for an 8.15 am start with Year 9 I found that I had time to rationalize
my briefcase and exclude those items which I would have no opportunity to use during
this period crowded morning.
As it turns out, of course, not only do I
have spare time, but I have also carefully forgotten the marking which I should
have been able to get completed this morning and left it on the coffee table in
the front room together with all the other stuff which would now be useful for
me to have.
One class has turned into a study period
and I am left typing because everything else, including the marking that I have
to do for another year I did not pick up yesterday and is somewhere else – lost
between buildings! It is yet another
case of the best laid plans etc etc.
Today however will be a test day in my new
approach to the Draconian plans which this place has towards teacher
attendance. According to my timetable my
afternoon is free and I intend to put to the test the conversation that I had
with the head of department when I agreed to work in the school until
Christmas. If I am not teaching then I
am not here. Accordingly I should have
at least two afternoons when I can get on with the work that I actually want to
do and two other afternoons when I can leave early to avoid the ridiculous
amount of traffic that clogs up the inadequate streets around the school when
the kids are let out.
I noticed with some degree of consternation
that one small vertiginous street which was a major route of egress, which
admittedly caused chaos when pushy parents used it in their over-the-top
4-by-4s to steal a march on other equally pushy parents, has now been blocked
off and all the traffic has been diverted so as to create one cataclysmic
traffic jam rather than two merely major ones at the end of school. I do not intend to find out just how finger
gnawingly frustrating these jams are and will softly and silently vanish away
whenever I can.
Yesterday was the first full day that I was
in school and it is depressingly easy to forget that I have ever been away from
the place. There are a few new faces in
the older classes but everyone, obviously, is the same as when I left them back
in the balmy days of last June. Some
people have indeed not really taken in the fact that I am back as I sit in my
usual place and walk around as if I have never left.
One new face among the teachers is a man
who I last saw in the School That Sacked Me.
At that time he was presented with a camera which was going to record
his impending marriage and honeymoon.
Given the awful nature of the School That Sacked Me there was much speculation
about whether the guy was going to be allowed to take his legal entitlement of
a number of days off to get married.
But, off to get married he went and, as was usual in The School That
Sacked Me, we never saw him again. At
least he has a fairly secure and reasonable berth now!
Seeing his face was one of those unsettling
moments, common to teachers, where you recognize it but have a vague feeling
that it is out of place. If a teacher
stays in one school for longer than a certain critical amount of time then
pupils, teachers, parents and pupils who eventually become parents all become
confused in the memory and this leads to a considerable amount of social
embarrassment. It took me a couple of
seconds (and hearing his New Zealand accent) before I placed him. I spoke to him with interest and sympathy
until I remembered that, given the recent form of the Welsh rugby team, he more
than represented the enemy!
I have now seen two teachers from The
School That Sacked Me in other schools in the area and I suppose that I should
be happy that they have escaped too. I
am sure that if I made a tour of the other English language schools around us I
would find other survivors!
How that damn school continues to survive
is beyond comprehension – though I am disturbingly informed that it is not
untypical of the horrendous conditions that obtain in schools that are owned by
a single, unsympathetic, unprofessional owner.
God rot her and all her works!
I suppose that finding out whether my
slimmed down week (which still has 24 periods in it) has worked will only
become apparent tomorrow when I will be able to see if my absence this
afternoon went by unnoticed – officially that is, because nothing goes
unnoticed in that place!
Tomorrow I have to be there all day because
I have a lesson last thing in the afternoon.
And my day doesn’t end there because after school I am meeting Suzanne
for the opening of an exhibition in Barcelona and then on to a life drawing
class. With naked people to be humiliated
by my erratic pencil!
And talking of humiliation it is time for
me to check into the website for the OU to find out what new developments there
have been in the developing soap opera which is my course!
Never a dull moment!
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