Confessions of a teacher: Because school isn't quite what you remember it to be... (12 page)

- "They were in charge of the baby..."

- "Who is 'they'?"

- "Jake's mum and dad."

- "Who is Jake?"

- "The baby's father. And they let Amelia take the baby for a walk and..."

- "Who is Amelia?"

- "Jake's thirteen year old sister. I told them that that was not on and they went mad. They've been sending me those nasty texts and I'm fed up with it. I won't have a thirteen year old walk my baby on her own!", concludes the sixteen year old mother.

To my surprise, Jonathan stands up. The orator has turned into a counsellor, and a very wise one at that: "Well Sam, of course you're right and you're perfectly entitled to be angry about it. But you want to think about one thing: do you really want your kid to grow up being cut off from one set of grandparents?". Sam considers the point for a moment and seems to see the logic of the argument. She nods and concedes to Jonathan that he has a point. Thanks to Jonathan, the matter is temporarily put to rest. As for me, I am too flabbergasted to say anything. How did Jonathan change from humming boy to wise man? Has there been some kind of supernatural intervention? And if there was... Why did it not happen sooner, like at the beginning of the year!

Next come the first year. We've organised an outing for them to see the newly arrived Pandas at Edinburgh zoo. Places are limited so we've all been asked to select 3 kids from our class. I know which ones I won't ask but I can't decide about the ones I will. There are quite a few really nice kids in this particular class. Every time I pick three in my head, I wrestled with the idea that there's another four equally worthy of going. I eventually end up putting the names of all potential candidates on a bit of paper and pick three at random. It is my task to announce the good news to the three winners of the draw and I choose to do it outside the classroom so as not to start a revolution with the others, questioning on what basis they too haven't been chosen. I've no sooner finished explaining to my three what this is all about that Sumitra raises her big eyes towards me. "Why is French organising a trip to see the pandas? I'm just asking because I know my mum will want to know". I've met Sumitra's mum at parents night and I know she's absolutely right. A lovely lady, but Mrs Sumitra will nevertheless insist on sound educational background to everything her daughter does. I have to think on my feet there and I must confess to not doing a very good job of it. "Huh... Well, pandas come from China and... Huh, they speak Chinese in China which is a modern language. Anyway, the trip is next week so make sure you get your parents to sign the consent form tonight and return it tomorrow". I'm not sure my argument will cut it with Sumitra's mum but I hope she'll be able to see it my way: anyone who works as hard as her daughter deserves a treat and on this occasion, it takes the form of a trip to the zoo just for the hell of it! Once the three reintegrate the room, the others are restless wanting to know what that was all about. It doesn't take long for the questions to dart from all directions, except from Julia who probably doesn't know what a panda is and Dylan who is involved in his latest invention. "Why can we not go and see the pandas?". I knew this was coming and I'm prepared. "Look. There are a limited amount of places and we've been asked to nominate three from each class. I've simply put all the names in a hat and picked three names. It's the luck of the draw". Of course, it's only partly true and they can tell that the three who are going are amongst the best achievers but pointing this out would be admitting that they come much lower down in the scoring so they accept my version of events.

At long last, the chimps are away on exam leave! In theory, that frees three periods in my timetable but within the first week I've been used to cover absent colleagues' classes on that time. Why should I be surprised? It's the same every year. What is not the same is the spade of setting off the fire alarm which is reaching critical frequency. In all the years I have been teaching, there has been countless fire alarms but not one single fire, not even a small spark. Every time the fire alarm goes off we know that kids are behind it and invariably, the name of the culprits emerges before the end of the day. You'd think they realise that but, obviously, the appeal is too great to resist. This time of year is particularly bad as many of the fourth year who are on exam leave haven't grasped the concept of revision. They're left with far too much time on their hands. However, we never had this prank played three times in one week before. The fire brigade is not amused and neither is the rest of the school. The joke is wearing thin but for once, the fourth year are innocent. Air pistol owner Stuart Lambert is the well known culprit. His name was mentioned within thirty seconds of the first offence being committed. Stuart is a well known second year trouble maker and has, yet again, been suspended. It turns out that he set the first himself but mounted a full operation via mobile phones to get others to do it. Stuart is in big trouble and yet, we feel for him. The boy hasn't been dealt a fair set of cards in his life so far. Mum was beaten up by step-dad and when Stuart got big enough to retaliate he nearly got strangled by the man. Since then, the abuser has been put away but mum is too ill to look after her son. After running away from home several times, social work decided to place Stuart in a care home temporarily. What was initially a temporary decision agreed on by mum and Stuart is turning out to be far longer term that intended. We all know his background but it is made even more terrible by the fact that we are powerless to give this child the help he so desperately needs. Like many other children before him, we are forced to watch the future criminals of tomorrow knowing where and when it went wrong, what could be done to turn it around without having the means to do it. When Stuart sets off the fire alarm, it's his cry for help that resonates through the distorted and deafening siren. If there is a fire, it's the one consuming him, a wave of anger at every adult that has failed him and, so far, they all have, including us.

Hypocrisy and workmanship.

With less classes on due to exams and allegedly more time available, May brings a flurry of activity such as courses opportunities for staff and school trips. Lea is presently away to Paris with thirty kids and two other colleagues: David, who gets a welcome break from his dragon boss, and Rhona Pursley, whom I hope Lea is not teasing too much. With so many people away on a regular basis and all for good educational reason, it is up to the remaining staff to take the classes of absent colleagues on our freed time. Curriculum for excellence preparation awaits us but we have no time to do anything about it. We have now been teaching that bloody thing for two years while not having a clue what it entails. This is through no fault of our own as no one really knows the ins and outs of the program. Different parties are working on it but each interprets it their way. There seem to be no real consensus as to what should or shouldn't be on it. Of the few courses that have been ran by local authorities, teachers' questions have invariably been met by either "we don't know yet" or "Well, you tell us". More literature has come through and with the whole thing rolling into its third year, we have to take the bull by the horn and devise materials. We should be used to it. Every time a change occurs in education, it starts with a wooly document which is interpreted by so called experts who spend their time contradicting each other. When push comes to shove, teachers work through the night to produce the actual work and all the experts have to do is use the best examples to promote as good practise. They wave our own work into our faces saying: "This is what we meant" but if the truth be told, they didn't know what they meant until we placed it in front of them. There sure is a lot of hypocrisy in education.

The early spring rays of sunshine also bring forth its fair share of essential maintenance and repair jobs. Of course, our classrooms are due to be painted over the summer and all displays have to be taken down again. We've heard that promise many times before but they always fail to deliver so we take the news with a pinch of salt. What is happening for sure as we speak is part of the roof being repaired. The existing roof is in such a state that it tends to rain nearly as much inside the building as it does outside. To everyone's astonishment, kids have been warned not to go on the low roof that covers the east wing of the school. There is a low extension to the building whose roof slopes down to only a few metres off the ground. No kids had ever been seen on this roof or any other one for that matter but it turns out that the roofers need 24h access and have unveiled a small door that opens on a set of stairs leading straight to that roof. With the workers having their lunch break at the same time as the children, the KGB has foreseen a potential danger in kids discovering this door and organising roof parties. There's nothing like planting a seed where nothing was growing before. Within a few days armies of kids have decided to give the roof a try. They'd never even thought of it before but now that it's been mentioned to them... Why not? One week later, I find myself at the office talking to one of the secretary. There are around six children sheepishly awaiting to be seen by the head whose office is next door. "What have they done?" I ask with a nod in their direction. "That's today's quota of kids having been caught on the roof" she explains, raising her eyes to the ceiling. "We've had that for the last week. Give it a bit more time and just about the whole school will have had a shot at the roof!". I laugh within my head: How to create trouble and invite it right in!

The sense of an ending.

I haven't had a toilet meeting with Dora for a while. Our path never seems to cross these days as what should be a quieter time of year turns out to be more frantic than ever for everyone. I have however seen her walking on thin air with a permanent grin on her face. Things must be going well with her new man! Even the vegetable orgies have lost their edge and long dreamy pauses now adorn most of Dora's phrases, much to the dismay of the children in front of her. Love does wonders for Dora but it doesn't do much for my culinary skills. For far too long, I have relied on Dora's overheard classes to decide on exotic menus. My husband no longer gets excited at the prospect of a divine feast on a Thursday night and has to console himself with cheesy pasta or fish fingers. My source of inspiration has lost her charisma. A few days later, I run straight into a beaming Dora who, without any preamble, holds her hand to my face saying: "Look!". A beautiful engagement ring swirls around her finger and the gemstone catches the sun, nearly blinding me in the process. "Dora, you're engaged... That's wonderful! Congratulations!". Dora thanks me and tells me everything about the romantic proposal. Not that I'm complaining: a love story is far more exciting than the pile of paperwork I have to tackle today.

- "So, how did it happen Dora?"

- "That was the most romantic ever! I'd gone to visit my sister who lives in Italy and Glen was coming to pick me up from the airport on my way back. I had just collected my luggage and was proceeding to the exit when I heard an announcement on the loud speaker saying this was a message for me. I'd never had my name called out in an airport and I thought they would ask me to come to the information desk. Maybe Glen had been delayed or something like that. I didn't have much time to ponder the question. As I was scanning the airport trying to locate the information desk, Glen's voice came on and asked if I would marry him. Next thing I knew, he emerged out of a cheering crowd and dropped on one knee. The whole airport irrupted in a state of festiveness while I stood in floods of tears, repeating 'yes, yes' all over again. Some airport official even brought us a cup of Champagne to celebrate!"

- "Oh, Dora, this is the most romantic story I've ever heard. I'm so happy for you!"

And the truth is I really am, even if I feel a tinge of envy. My husband proposed to me on a Venetian bridge, at night, with no witnesses to our happy moment. An idea suddenly occurs to me: What if Dave and I were to replay the whole engagement thing again? After all, who is to know that we're already married? Besides, we've already got the ring. Even better, we could stage more than one in a whole lot of circumstances to enjoy the cheers of passers-by and whatever freebies we can gather on the way. I wonder if Dave would be up for it or if he is already too entrenched in married life... Dora brings me back to reality with more mundane affairs: "Did you know that Hilary Denver is applying for jobs elsewhere?". I'm surprised at the news. Hilary has been in this school a long time and isn't looking for promotion. I wonder what has been going on to justify such a move but I'm pretty sure it has to do with Peter.

Lea has been back from her trip to France two days ago and I still haven't had a chance to ask her how it went. I think she has a free period just now and my plan is to briefly catch up with her before handling the mountain of insane and pointless forms I have to fill in. She's busy handling those very forms as I walk in and greets me with a huge smile. Any kind of interruption offers a welcome relief. She tells me about the trip and we have a few laughs. "Did you know that Hilary is looking for a job elsewhere?" I ask her in an attempt to make her up to speed with what's been happening in her absence. To my surprise, she gratifies me with an enigmatic smile and says: "Yes, and I partly know why". How is that possible? How can she know more than any of us when she wasn't even in the country? Upon looking at my puzzled face, Lea laughs heartedly and says: "Let me tell you something about that trip I went on. On the last weekend before our return, we took the kids to the Eiffel Tower. Not all of them wanted to go to the top so David took a group of kids up the Tower and Rhona Pursley and myself took the rest for a wander. Funnily enough, Rhona and I were talking about Peter and Hilary. She was busy trying to convince me that all the rumours were just malicious gossip and I was telling her not to be so naive. What I didn't know, which came out in that exchange, is that Rhona had been somewhat of a confident for Hilary. Hilary had told her tearfully that she was so upset with all those stories about her and Peter that she was starting to look for positions in other schools. We were just rounding the corner of some side street when we heard a collective greeting from the kids: "Hi Sir! Hi Miss!". Before we had time to recover, we came face to face with Peter and Hilary. They were far too slow in releasing each other's hands, a detail that wasn't missed by Rhona, myself and the twenty kids trotting alongside us. Peter went white and just about managed a timid "Hi!". In direct contrast, Hilary turned purple and gave the best imitation I've ever seen of a goldfish out of water: Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly without anything remotely human-sounding coming out of it aside from a guttural 'gulp'. Rhona was shocked and furious at having been played, as she now realised. She looked the pair up and down a couple of times before saying curtly: "Mr Sutherland. Mrs Denver". Those two were nailed to the ground with shock. Even as we reached the end of the street, I could see them riveted to the exact same spot, unable to move in any direction". "I bet you never missed the opportunity to tease Rhona relentlessly", I added with mischief. "Actually no. Rhona needed no more proof and she was so furious at having been fooled that she's the one who shocked me. Well away from children's earshot she whispered to me: ' And to think that all the time she was crying on my shoulder, she was screwing him!'. Do you know something... I discovered on that trip that there's much more to Rhona Pursley than meet the eye". Well, I have to give it to Rhona, I never thought I would see the day she would make Lea blush at one of her comment. How prompt we are to judge and how often we are mistaken!