by Teri Power
At least James can now see that this is a serious matter. If the Church can decide who is going to teach in our schools then it is about time they made some contribution to the education budget.
* * *
Saturday 30th January
Shopping at Safeways. Gavin and Gavin - who had never struck me as the choirboy type - have obviously been told that I am on a Methodist Jihad death list. They therefore assumed that I am a Muslim and likely to be offended by them yelling "Salman Rushdie".
Tea at the Vicarage. With what I can only describe at admirable self-restraint I managed to keep my own problems off the agenda and we had a highly enjoyable row about the Middle East.
* * *
Sunday 31st January
There is nothing in the Sunday papers, why do we buy them? We could probably save the rain forests single-handed if we stopped having them. There is a choice between the Sunday Sleazies which have the occasional interesting story buried in a pile of intellectual analyses of "Neighbours", the quality Sundays which fit in with Chesterton's definition of journalism - "scribbling on the back of advertisements" and then there is the Sunday Sport which is beyond a joke.
February
Monday 1st February
I have started walking to school, partly to save petrol but mainly to save my nerves from the abrasions caused by constant anxiety about the roadworthiness of the Skoda. This morning I walked in behind two first year boys.
"I can't understand French. It's a foreign language to me." said one.
"Wait until you try German. It's even more foreign." replied the other.
I had to think of a good reason to give my third years for the fact that I had not got their essays ready. I thought of falling back on the tried and tested; "I am returning these essays, which I will not even dignify with a mark, so you can have the opportunity to reconsider your ghastly spelling and grammar and resubmit them."
In the end I decided to resort to the truth - I had left them at school on Friday. I suppose this was because I was so upset about Snooks and her Methodist death squads.
At the end of the school day I was able to walk in to the staffroom and announce that I had suffered a head failure - to be precise it was one of the computers which had failed, though it was I who was suffering. Do I have to add that it was the computer with most of the pupils' work on it and that the said work is now lost forever because it had not been backed up? If there is one # rule of life I try to instill in my pupils it is "save before you print" but this is a fat lot of good if Miss hasn't backed up the hard disk on the expensive tape streamer Miss persuaded the head to buy - another of the things I should have done during my lamented free period on Friday.
I got a few sympathetic comments like "I thought your hairdo was pulling your brain too tight." but there were too many people who said absolutely nothing and turned away. Obviously Torquemada's poison has been spreading. It was a relief to go to the Year Meeting.
Or so I thought. It seems that Mrs Snooks has had time to send a circular to all heads of year which says that "taking assemblies is invaluable preparation for any teacher seeking promotion." and the whole meeting was then hijacked by Torquemada talking in a remarkably charming way about assemblies and how much he appreciated the co-operation of other teachers and so on and so forth.
In the evening I watched the Emmanuelle video over the third year marking . James said it was either that or "Massage Girls of Bangcock" (sic) according to the video catalogue.
I had a good guess at what he would have in mind after the video but I was rather amazed to find out that he expected me to be "turned on" by this film which is mainly about lesbian activities in the far east. I did point out that if I was turned on by lesbian films I would probably be turned on to women rather than to him.
In some ways the worst thing about pornography is not the degradation of women (and the degradation of men for that matter) but the quality of the videos. The grainy texture of the pictures and the strange ban on cocks by the powers that control our viewing mean that I lose interest very quickly. In fact it is mainly the contortions they have to engage in to keep the videos cockless which manage to keep me amused. In fact, come to think of it, it must be this rather unusual ban which causes the preponderance of lesbian scenes in pornographic videos.
* * *
Tuesday 2nd February
If that cat mistakes the porridge oats for cat litter again there will be serious consequences.
An interesting discussion on literature with one of my second years who thinks George Lucas is a much better writer than Jane Austen. You must admit that her Science Fiction is a bit naff and her special effects unimpressive. Actually I am glad that he has graduated to George Lucas from Enid Blyton and that he can argue a point of view.
I mentioned this discussion to Oz during break and he started to explain to me why Austen could not be regarded as a great novelist because of her preoccupation with issues which would only interest women. If you learn nothing else in this job, # at least you learn to spot when you are being wound up.
InfoTech committee meeting. We are still trying to make head or tail of the National Cur requirements. In fact the problem is not understanding them but believing them. It is not possible for any pupil to fulfil their requirements without "forbidden" assistance from the course tutor.
I would love to play chess against the Secretary of State for Education. If the National Cur is anything to go by he would spend his time insulting the pawns, moving the pieces about aimlessly and periodically renaming them, "that is not a queen it's an administrative regal executive with responsibility for queenly duties".
James brought home a female nude mud-wrestling video, I left him to watch it. Later he came to bed and I feigned sleep and then he feigned snoring and I feigned hitting him with a pillow.
* * *
Wednesday 3rd February
When I am killed and my body is opened, they will find the words "broken directory - disk fault &18" engraved on my heart. I have been tormented with variations on that message intermittently for two days now and I am sending the Archimedes to be fixed. It will cost a fortune.
Oz has received a letter of complaint from a parent. In fact it should not have come to him because it is a pastoral matter. It seems that I reprimanded a pupil in the corridor for swearing, it wasn't his fault and in any case "he wouldn't of # (sic) been told off if he wasnt outside Miss Power's room." Oz was at a loss as to how to reply to this one.
Various suggestions were made, for example that next time Mrs Power will not reprimand him but take him at his word (the word in question was "dickhead" - the suggestion was I should treat it as a verb). In the end Oz elected to "lose" the letter.
During period 8, Gregory, one of my second year pupils, started criticising Torquemada, "boring old fart" was the precise soubriquet. True to NUT guidelines, and true to some remaining sense of self-preservation, I shut him up and refused to listen to his accusations, or to notice the noises of approval he received from the rest of the class.
Criticising other teachers before pupils or adults without a legitimate "need to know" is regarded as "unprofessional conduct." This is, of course, the worst accusation which any teacher can lay against another. This is rather odd when the term "profession" is applied to doctors and lawyers - can you imagine either of those professions engaging in unpaid overtime as we so often do? To do so they would have to be amateurs.
The term "profession" is used more widely than that, one could always class teachers with professional musicians, professional gamblers, professional pickpockets and, of course, the oldest profession of them all.
But to get back to our duty not to "denigrate" other teachers (I would not suggest Torquemada was black in any circumstances), if I am to follow the guidelines, I should tell Torquemada that he is a boring old fart before following established procedures for dealing with BOF's in a sympathetic and, above all, professional manner.
If Gregory is as creepy as
he has hitherto seemed, then I can assume that his remarks were an attempt to lure me into making an unguarded judgement on the head of RE which could then be passed on to his dad who, if my memory of last year's parents' evening is anything to go by, is the sort of individual who gives bigotry a bad name.
After school I noticed that the Archimedes was still sitting in the office, the repairers have not yet collected it. I mentioned this to the receptionist and she started defending the repair company in a very sniffy tone. Perhaps she has shares in the company.
This evening James, the man who thought "Twist and shout" was a new method of masturbation, had a headache and was not in the mood for love. However, the rapidity with which he succumbed to my blandishments would suggest that the whole thing was a ploy, or that I am just plain irresistible. I incline to the latter theory.
* * *
Thursday 4th February
I noticed Archie was still gathering dust in the office this morning but I refrained from making any comment to the receptionist.
It is at times like his that I suddenly find out that I have a parents' evening, so it came as no great surprise when Oz asked me # where I wanted to sit for tonight's. It then turned out that he was joking, though not very much - we have one next week. They are the bane of my life, the poison in my chalice, the ground glass in my KY jelly. I never see the parents I want to see for as long as I want to see them. Why? Because I spend the evening talking to the ones I have precious little to say to. And the children with most problems are often the ones with parents who do not come to parents' evenings.
Then there was the drawer in my desk, which greeted me by falling into two halves. I know this is the end for that drawer because it is a) impossible to repair the MFI crap we have in lieu of furniture and b) the entire furniture replacement budget for the year would only cover the one desk. It was a case of grin, bear it and ignore the comments about Miss Power dropping her drawers.
Then there was Derek's copy of "Great Expectations" which has gone missing. This is a problem because all the copies are falling to pieces and there is not a complete replacement which I can give to him and we have officially overspent and are forbidden to spend any money until April. Sorry, Derek. It looks like the National Cur has just stopped applying to you until April Fool's day.
Then there was the fact that if one of my pupils had begun three consecutive paragraphs with "Then there was" I would have had a few words to say to her!
At lunchtime I went out to watch my form playing netball and losing hands down to 1M. The boys, whom I had dragooned into joining me for the spectacle, went off singing, "the girls lost at netball, the girls lost at netball, nanaanaana, nanaanaana." I think this kind of thing helps to bind the form closer together.
I noticed Archie looking extremely forlorn and abandoned in reception as I went home. I will ring those repair experts tomorrow.
When James arrived home he espied me through the pile of essays I was marking and announced that he was taking me out for a meal. I actually actively detest eating in public because I am what mum called a "fussy eater" - I prefer to prepare my own food because I have some idea about how I want it and a horror of waiters which prevents me from complaining when they get it wrong.
James knows all this and he has no liking for eating out either so I was a little surprised at his offer. Then I remembered that today is our anniversary (actually an engagement anniversary - this is turning into a long engagement!) so he clearly thought it would be best to celebrate by spending the evening doing something neither of us likes.
As restaurant curries go it was passable. I did not actually get much marking done when I got home, my IT group will be very scathing tomorrow. I could always claim I was keeping them for further consideration, but I wouldn't believe it, why should they?
* * *
Friday 5th February
Today the big news is that we have Inspectors coming in after half term so the spit and polish begins now.
Oz is in a state of blind panic. I reminded him of the experience of a French teacher I met many years ago on teaching practice. His name was Gilbert Cook and he was about 45 years old which seemed as old as Methuselah to me at the time. He had some clever young inspector in while he was teaching a particularly stroppy group of third years and the inspector criticised Gilbert's methods which were no doubt out-of-date. However, Gilbert responded with an air of innocence that he had not quite understood what the young man was driving at but he was about to teach a similar group and perhaps the inspector would care to demonstrate by teaching them?
As far as we know, the inspector is still running, and that was ten years ago. Gilbert's aside to me at the time - he knew I was having trouble with my course tutor - was "Never forget, when you've been teaching a few years, you can do that too."
Unfortunately this put Oz into an even greater panic than before because he now imagines that I will cheek the inspectors and he will have to take the blame. He took me aside and started to give me the "heavy word" about not mentioning "Communism, Fascism, sex, drugs or religion" while the men from the ministry are here. Bang go my lesson plans for the next term!
James had fished the handcuffs out the wastepaper basket and covered them with material to make them more comfortable. I got him put them on to demonstrate exactly how comfortable they were then dropped the key down the back of the radiator.
* * *
Saturday 6th February
I was rather surprised to receive a phone call from George saying that he wanted to have a chat; less surprised that he suggested The Ship at lunchtime as a suitable venue and very surprised indeed when he told me what it was about.
I arrived at The Ship - a fairly pleasantly appointed local hostelry which is not frequented by too many of my pupils - meeting pupils in pubs can be rather embarrassing for all concerned.
I was prepared for George to suggest practically anything and inclined to remind him of his engagement but he seemed embarrassed in a distinctly un-Georgelike fashion. This was because he was on a distinctly un-Georgelike mission. It came out - in between a few loud salacious remarks about some of his pupils and equally loud protestations of feminism and the usual George sentiments - that Oz had instructed George to tell me to lay off "Communism, Fascism etc." in my teaching. What does the boring old Liberal Democrat think I am going to do?
* * *
Sunday 7th February
Went to Judo for the first time in ages. The warming-up exercises more-or-less put paid to me and by the time we had got to breakfalls I was having a job getting back up off the mat.
I went home wearing my judoji, which turns James on. This is not surprising because he watched Goldfinger at an impressionable age and thinks judo is sexy. So the result was that we tried a few osoto gari of our own on the mat at home and then after he had got my ji off and we were sweating and naked on the mat we tried some kata karuma which is definitely not in the handbook.
* * *
Monday 8th February
My back was killing me this morning. I blame the judo, but one of my IT group put it down to "too much bed and not enough sleep." RSA have sent through another mass of incomprehensible and contradictory forms for me to fill in and I am not happy about it.
The department meeting was dominated by arrangements for the Men from the Ministry coming and Oz's various subterfuges to do down the Maths department while they are here. What has he got against Maths - apart from his pathological inability to count or work out a timetable?
Clair revealed that she had caught one of her third year boys wanking at the back of the class while she was showing them "Gregory's Girl" - I must say I didn't think the film was that arousing - I suggested that he was just bored or found football a turn-on. There were various ribald suggestions about what she should do with him if she kept him behind - most of these from George with other members of the department chipping in.
Then I looked at Oswald. He had decidedly gone a funny colour
I expect he was imagining what the Inspectors would have to say about this state of affairs, if such an incident occurred during their visit.
* * *
Tuesday 9th February
I taught my usual lesson on stereotypes and used my usual example - a joke about two queers who are locked out of their flat. They have to climb up a ladder and Cecil says to Rodney, "I feel like a fireman ." and Rodney says, "So do I, where can we find one at this time of night?_"
This is, I still maintain, a very good example of the stereotypes of homosexuals - "Cecil and Rodney," public school queer names and the idea that no man is safe from their attentions. However, I don't think it would do Oswald's blood pressure any good if I did this lesson while the Inspectors are here. In any case, I assume this lesson is against the law because it does not condemn homosexuality.
Year meeting after school, main item on the agenda was the Inspection - we are laying on a special year meeting for the Men from the Ministry and we all have to learn our scripts. Torquemada will be giving us a talk about assemblies. We will be making constructive points.
Oh no I won't!
* * *
Wednesday 10th February
I left a copy of a mock worksheet on the Gulf War containing questions such as "Imagine you are an arms merchant, write a letter to the widow of a soldier killed in the Gulf War justifying your sale of arms to both sides." Before Oz could find it, it was picked up by Clair
Clair is a very pleasant companion and colleague but she is also slightly to the right of Herman Goering. It took her a good three minutes to realise that she was being wound up and she didn't talk to me for the rest of the day.
Croydon NUT meeting at Ruskin House. I represent Downsbury at this august assembly - for the usual reason: I was the only mug who would do the job: all those years in the Militant tendency are a difficult heritage to disown.
