Diary of an Assistant Mistress

by Teri Power

  Sunday 20th March

  Today I had to do all the marking I didn't do yesterday. Neil had written a poem entitled "Our Teacher"

  "Our teacher is a wonder.

  Full of airs and graces,

  When we make a ruck,

  She don't give a fuck,

  But sits in her chair and makes faces."

  This is the longest, neatest and probably politest piece of writing Neil has ever done. He quite literally will not understand me when I criticise it.

  Monday 21st March

  Oz was away today. I told Clair that he was on a training course at a brewery.

  "Making pea soup" she retorted.

  After school I went to tackle Peter in his office. He was away at an SS meeting (they prefer to be called SMT - Senior Management Team) but his computer was there.

  I was sitting at his keyboard when the computer seemed to turn itself on. I was musing on what password he used when I happened to notice a seven digit number on a piece of paper in the bottom of his drawer. Oddly enough it was the codeword in reverse.

  I once had a friend who worked for the BBC. He claimed to have put a logic bomb into their computer system which would start deleting random data files if his name were ever removed from the payroll.

  Tuesday 22nd March

  Today I started negotiations with some of the less computer-minded members of the maths department about moving their computers back into the computer room. They were mystified by the original decision to put them in their classrooms.

  Auberon - who is listed as a teacher of computer studies in the staff guide - confessed that he didn't know anything about computers. John didn't want it but didn't like to offend Pat. Debbie thought that after ten years in the Maths department she was qualified as a psychiatric nurse. ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿ ³ Rule 1 for survival in disputes with Maths: ³ ³ Your main ally against one member of the Maths department is³ ³ any other member of the Maths department. ³ ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ

  Then there came a summons to Peter's office and the news that I was being covered for the rest of my lessons today.

  The problem was that the network had gone down. Peter tries to take an intelligent interest in computers and he knows enough to make it difficult to pull the wool over his ears.

  I started in his office, although I had a feeling I would find the solution to the problem in another office. I started printing out his autoexec.bat and config.sys files on the printer and giving him a bit of an ear-bashing about the computer room.

  Then I solemnly went off to every other member of SMT to print out their autoexec.bat files. I happened to know what these files contained - they had to be the same - but a batch file is only as good as the actual files it lists and if one of those is a rogue file some discontented employee had installed the previous night ...

  I took the opportunity to sound out opinion and by the time I had finished, I had acquired a fair list of examples of Pat's bloody-mindedness. By three I had quietly eliminated the rogue file, the network was running again and the computer room was to be reinstated.

  I was able to recruit the services of my tenth years to move the computers back - I knew Pat could find reasons to stall the move if I left it to him. No more teaching InfoTec without computers - until the next crisis.

  Wednesday 23rd March

  I felt emboldened to ring up the CRE and speak to the man who answers the phone but doesn't know anything about computers. He said that the man who did know about computers had been unable to find anything wrong with ours and they were sending it back.

  Thursday 24th March

  Unscheduled shopping trip to Safeways. Met John who inquired why I didn't go to the Co-op and I enquired why he didn't. He then told me that his curate had committed the ultimate, but unfortunately unpunishable sin of defecting to the Methodists.

  He then delivered some remarks about Methodists which would have made the reverend Ian Paisley's views on Catholics seem positively ecumenical. I listened in rising bewilderment until I saw the expression in his eyes and we both burst out laughing.

  We looked round to see that practically everyone in Safeways wanted to see what the vicar was giggling about - and who the strange woman with him was. I took his arm and led him in the general direction of the condom counter but he wasn't having any. He "made an excuse and left" as NoW journalists once said.

  I don't know what the curate's defection actually means but I am sure that John was not unhappy to see the back of him.

  I have just remembered that the curate's name was Victor and that a "curate" is a small poker. I don't think I will be able to explain that joke to John.

  Friday 25th March

  One of the current "buzz words in Education" (apart from "buzz words in education" that is) is "cascades". The idea is that some hapless individual - usually Oz - goes off on a course and then comes back and tells us all about it.

  Oz came in to one of my tenth year lessons to tell me about such a "cascading" session and Mandy (who is called Mandy Lifeboats so frequently I call her that myself) and her friends had a fit of the giggles.

  It transpires that a "cascading session" means something QUITE different in Mandy's little circle. It sounds perfectly unhealthy.

  Saturday 26th March

  I told James about Mandy's "cascading sessions." Fortunately he didn't express any interest. You never know with him.

  Sunday 27th March

  Ninth year marking.

  Monday 28th March

  As far as I'm concerned, the holiday hasn't begun until James goes to work and I don't. I am being virtuous and spending at least an hour a day marking. Well today anyway. This way those wretched projects which I got my eighth and ninth years to do will eventually get marked.

  Tuesday 29th March

  Edie had what was referred to as a "hen party." I honestly didn't know anybody did things like that these days. It was a very dreary affair consisting mainly of PE teachers with about half a brain cell between them.

  They dutifully squealed when the male strip-o-gram indecently assaulted their colleague in public.

  I tried to be bright and amusing without mentioning religion or politics. It was rather like attending a convention of Klanswomen - except they were less interestingly dressed.

  Wednesday 30th March

  I have the father and mother of all hangovers this morning.. and for what?

  Thursday 31st March

  Tried to make up for the marking I didn't do yesterday and succeeded. Only the SAT forms to go now.

  April

  There are many advantages in not being in school on this day. One is the infantile and repetitive practical jokes. Then there are the ones the children do.

  * * *

  The great day arrived. One morning spent cutting sandwiches, twenty minutes in the registry office and then the sort of overextended bacchanal that George would have enjoyed if he and Edie hadn't been slipping off early to an undisclosed destination.

  The PE hearties were there of course, trying to see how many pints they could sink and boasting about the size of their equipment.

  The Maths department were spread around the room in warring cliques. The English department were huddled in one clique. Oz got tired and emotional very early in the proceedings and started to reminisce about his days in the SDP. Clair told a very funny story about Joan Collins and an elephant. Frances told us about her holiday in France. I told them all about waiting for Monarch airlines at Alicante airport. Jill and Tessa said very little and Alistair told us all about his vasectomy. Twice.

  James always feels a bit out of it on these occasions. When we got home and fell into bed he insisted on blindfolding me with a folded black stocking and I cannot describe what happened next.

  Saturday 2nd April supplemental />
  Oh yes I can. I felt his hands and his tongue going everywhere you can imagine and several places you probably can't. Then I heard Victor, who seemed to buzz for an awfully long time before he got to me, so I can only speculate. When Victor got to me I found out soon enough that James had smeared Algipan all along his length. If I had any drowsiness left, it vanished at this point.

  Sunday 3rd April

  Got up around ten. Orange juice is the only hangover cure I know. WE were out of orange juice. Went for a walk in the fresh air. Passed the local pond, saw the same two girls as last time ostensibly feeding the ducks. They saw me and stopped throwing anything until I was past them. Then they shouted out "Paki Bitch!" and some nearby boys started laughing.

  I walked back to the girls and this time I really let them have it verbally, I can be fairly scathing when I get going and when I have a hangover to boot.

  I wonder what, if anything, this has achieved. I imagine they will yell their racist abuse from a greater distance next time.

  Monday 4th April

  God is dead, Karl Marx is dead and I don't feel too good myself.

  Tuesday 5th April

  I made an appointment with the doctor and told him all about my symptoms. For example I have had a sore throat for a long time. He suggested that this was chronic pharyngitis. Since pharyngitis is a sore throat and chronic means "for a long time" I was in no position to fault his diagnosis.

  He also said that I probably had a bug of some sort and there was a lot of it about.

  Wednesday 6th April

  Went in to work to count the computers. I also took the opportunity to ring the computer experts. No reply. Started on tenth year profiles. Got fed up and started ninth year reports.

  Thursday 7th April

  Started on ninth year reports, got fed up and started on tenth year profiles. James had one of his imported videos from Denmark - Dirty Dens as they are called (at least by me). He wanted to run it. I wanted to watch Coriolanus. For a fleeting moment I thought about videoing Coriolanus, then realised the obvious.

  Instead we had a row. I said that I was fed up with films that treated human beings like animals ... and vice versa!

  Friday 8th April

  James went off, still in a huff about "Teenage Sex Rompers Reveal All Their Dangly Bits" and I settled down to polish off the ninth year reports. Now I have only the tenth year profiles to finish off for the weekend.

  There is something seriously wrong with the pipery in this house. Every time I empty the sink, the shower starts filling up.

  Saturday 9th April

  Tea at the vicarage. John entertained us with hair-raising tales about the state of the plumbing at the vicarage. He thinks the C of E could put some of its millions into improving the lot of the clergy - though he concedes there are better causes.

  Sunday 10th April

  Another sleepless night. James is getting used to the fact that I can't sleep the night before going back to work, the trouble is I don't really feel like his suggestion for passing the time either.

  Monday 11th April

  The honeymooners returned to work. Edie is already beginning to look more tired than I remember her.

  Today I overheard Pat and Frank having a heated discussion about a re-entrant triangle. It struck me that I very seldom hear Maths teachers talking about their subject in the staffroom.

  English department meeting. Again I cannot remember what was discussed so I will make something up for the minutes.

  I had to bring the Skoda to work to bring in all the paperwork. Naturally I could not persuade it to take me home. Torquemada's attempt to jump-start it only had the effect of partially frying his leads. Then Brad turned up and between them they succeeded in pushing it so I could start it. A PE teacher and an RE teacher - I thought the job needed brute force and ignorance! However, I refrained from mentioning this and I was truly thankful.

  Tuesday 12th April

  At the year meeting we learnt that our registers have to be filled in differently. All pupils born before 12th April have to be marked in blue ink and all pupils born after 12th April have to be marked in red ink, whereas all those who have reached their sixteenth birthday should be marked in green ink willy nilly.

  We have all been issued with new registers and given until Friday to fill in this year's attendances in the correct colours. The lunatics have taken over the asylum.

  I raised the matter at the NUT meeting at Ruskin House but no helpful suggestions were forthcoming. We will hold a school meeting tomorrow.

  Ruskin House bar is not a sexist male preserve though it was jam packed with male trade unionists. I noticed a lot of heads were turning in our direction but I think Amanda's extremely tight-fitting trouser suit may have been something to do with it.

  All through our discussion - which was mainly about administration in schools - she kept absent-mindedly scratching and itch in the vicinity of her left breast. I found it distracting, some of the other customers did too judging from their eyebrows.

  Wednesday 13th April

  Everybody turned up to the NUT meeting today to register their protests about the workload. It is the register fiasco which has sparked this off. Some hapless soul from regional office turned up expecting a round-up of the usual suspects About sixty extremely vexed teachers was a bit of a shock for him.

  For the time being we will return lists of absentees to the office and keep the registers pristine while the issue is taken to a higher level. Olive is going to be cross tomorrow.

  Thursday 14th April

  Day one of the great register revolt. I noticed Torquemada's register was the only one in the box. Scab.

  Olive called a meeting for after school and everyone who could attend did so.

  When we came in, the hierarchy was arranged impressively along the top table; Olive in the centre, bristling like Margaret Thatcher in one of her less charming moods. Peter on her right hand, imagining he was at a court-martial; Simon on her left, looking, for some inexplicable reason, like an ineffectual wanker who shouldn't be let within half a mile of a class of children.

  In between Olive's fumes, Peter's drones and Simon's whimpering, I happened to notice some graffiti on the desk in front of me: "Forget the pain, forget the passion, Get down and do it doggy-fashion." This caused me to giggle, which did not go down at all well with the powers that be.

  The final result of the meeting is that there will be another meeting tomorrow at which we will have the hapless regional NUT official back for a grilling.

  And we were trying to save ourselves work!

  FRIDAY 16th APRIL

  The regional official had a case of diplomatic earache so we ended up postponing the meeting but the general feeling of the ranks is that there will be no surrender.

  The local press have got hold of the story and today's headline was "A TICKING OFF FOR SIR."

  SATURDAY 16th APRIL

  Took home a portable computer for the weekend. The Z88 is very cheap and unreliable but I understand that they are used by the Royal Marines, though I don't know what they use them for.

  This one is dead. Even when I unbent a paperclip and shoved it in the appropriate orifice (in the computer) it had no effect.

  Sunday 17th April

  The Z88 has come back to life. From what I can tell, we could complete all the required elements of the RSA course with this machine. The only trouble with having anything portable in school is that it tends to get ported.

  The battery is already running low however, which suggests that I am going to need a power supply for every Z88, which rather removes the advantage of portability because I can't use it in an average classroom with its one plug socket.

  I fiddled with the Pipedream program while James was drooling his way through a video pipedream of his own involving a blonde, a negress and a man in a mask. When the final credits rolled, telling us who the wardrobe mistress was (a rather underworked individual by the looks of things) I coyly informed James tha
t he really should have consulted his calendar. And so to bed.

  I was kept awake by the sound of grinding teeth for a bit - at least I assume that was what it was.

  Monday 18th April

  We shall not be moved. Torquemada's register was joined by a few others in the bin, including Clair's, but not one NUT member has crossed the psychological picket line.

  I asked Torquemada what the Bible said about strikebreaking. He said he wasn't aware there was a strike.

  The regional official announced that the NUT was advising us not to take this action. If he expected us all to cave in, he was in for a disappointment. Oz got as hot under the collar as a retired SDP member can reasonably get and he had a lot of support.

  I had a brief chat with George. He thinks that our failure standard is about forty. If forty members of staff cave in we will have a job holding the line. He does not want to tell anyone this.

  Tuesday 19th April

  Naturally Olive made the most of the invertebrate character of the NUT leadership and this morning we had a note in our pigeon holes saying that we would be suspended from duty unless we completed the registers in the prescribed fashion by Friday of this week and that the NUT would not support us.

  Wednesday 20th April

  Thirteen registers in the bin this morning.

  Thursday 21st April

  Fifteen registers in the bin this morning.

  Friday 22nd April

  Twenty registers in the bin this morning. We have won! At a meeting after work, the hierarchy again assembled in solemn conclave and anathematised 80 percent of the staff. They then praised the twenty who had filled in the registers properly and informed them that they would now have to fill in their registers all over again because we were reverting to the previous method.

  Saturday 23rd April

  Snow. In April. It reminds me of an Evening Standard headline: "Flaming June - It's Snowing." Possibly the most unnecessary piece of 'news' ever, I could hardly see the headline for the swirling snow flurries.

  When it starts snowing at school, it does not matter what year I am teaching, they will cluster around the windows and start asking if the school is going to be closed. One legendary winter the school actually was closed for one day and the folk-memory of the pupils has never forgotten it.