Insignificant Others

Anyone reading this would think I have an inherent hatred for all beings under five and half feet. Except midgets. I like the way they run. Like penguins. But this is simply not true. I also have significant misanthropic tendancies towards taller (supposedly) more enlightened individuals and I think it’s time we had a look at rubbish teachers. There are plenty of ‘types’ under this umbrella and here are my top five, with examples, to let you all in on it.

1. The Drill Sergeant: A teacher who relies entirely on fear to educate the poisonous shrimps. This individual makes behaviour management a nightmare for all the other quivering and fearful members of staff, among whom I timidly count myself, and can occasionally lead to woefully misjudged attempts to replicate the style to try and maintain order. They achieve the double whammy of pissing off teachers and pupils alike, while living a ‘perfect storm’-type existence, oblivious to the negative impact they have on the school. Don’t try to speak to them about it though as they’re likely to stick a Smart Board up your arse – creating a Smart Arse Board.

2. The Mummy: This teacher constructs a wholly inappropriate relationship with pupils and is likely to give out their Facebook details quicker than you can say sex offenders register. One such example concocted such a powerfully strong relationship with their class that when I was to take the group and, during a fact and opinion lesson where they had to state whether certain statements were ‘fact’ or ‘opinion’, I stopped the lesson because of disruption to announce I was to be her replacement, one member growled, ‘opinion’. Hugging and fawning are also conventions of this form as well as perpetual use of the phrase, ‘bless’.

3. The Smug Fuck: Just when the day couldn’t get any worse, this supercilious cum bag is happy to let you know you’re entirely to blame. ‘7.2? But they’re perfect for me? Only last week they all bought me flowers and asked me to adopt them. Silly little things! You just haven’t created a relationship with them – they’re really lovely kids.’ Yeah, thanks. That you’ve spent the best part of a year bobbing and weaving from their tongues and fists makes it even better when someone lets you know how angelic they are for them. Smug fuck.

4. PE and Art ‘Teachers’: It’s not fair! It’s not fair! It’s not fair! Long, mark-free holidays, 1 minute lesson planning, kayaking and street dance on the syllabus – this isn’t a job, it’s Butlins! How I seethe with rage as you leave at 4pm every day, content in the knowledge that tomorrow’s trampolining and potato printing lessons are in the bag and I settle in for another evening of trying to decipher whatever banal ramblings 8.3 have punched into their books.

5. The Mentalist: There’s one in every school. An individual so far removed from reality you get the feeling they only became a teacher because they failed the harmony singing stages of oompa-lompa training. Everything about this person is inappropriate and, as such, like catnip to the monsters. Styled by Playschool with X Men hair, they cry their way around school perplexed by the constant harassment they suffer as day-by-day the taunting just gets worse and worse. I’ve sat with The Mentalist at lunch once, about 5 feet from the kids, as they relived the horror of a particularly bad episode. ‘Then he called me a FUCKING CUNT!’, they nashed, frothing at the mouth while a forkful of jellof rice froze at my open mouth and then splattered incredulously back onto the plate.

So there it is; a summary of how the adults can be just as bad as the kids in education. But which category would I put myself in and where do I fit into this whole sorry mess? Well, I suppose I don’t fit in at all really and that’s why I’m giving it up. The teaching aspect, standing at the front of the class and showing off for a little while, is fine, but it’s the red tape that kills me. That the profession has become a series of box ticking exercises is infuriating – not just for me, but for thousands of teachers out there – and I just can’t see myself coming to terms with that. Plus the kids are dicks.

A very quick turnover from the last post this week because I obviously have to maintain my ‘four a month’ target I plucked out of inconsequentiality. One comment from Olly from a previous post should be noted though, as it was very complimentary and does result in him having a free pass to my bottom at his will. The joke’s on him though, it’s rarely a clean bottom. Peace. Unless there’s any work in it for me. In which case war’s fine too.