please ignore the broken chair in the corner

Being such a small and cosy school, we don’t have the luxury of employing an ICT teacher.  We have many ICT-competent folk, and even a teacher with a degree in things computery-wizardry.  As well as having no ICT teacher we’re also lacking an ICT-Bod who is capable of doing the fixing of all things technical.  Oh, we have a darling admin lady, but despite doing her best to get to the root of the problem, her knowledge is woeful.

Because of this I have unofficially taken on the role of IT Girl, but only amongst the more worthy members of staff.  And those that know of my amazing self-taught computery ability, which in all truthfulness is only a select few. 

Your tables are too big?  Your margins aren’t equal?  You don’t know how to do what?!  There’s only one solution to your horrid techy problem …

The IT Girl!

Not a day goes by where someone doesn’t toddle by and request my help.  I’ve even been asked to be solely responsible for the school website (let’s hear a WooHoo!), and I am looking forward to getting my teeth into that project, once my husband has uploaded the appropriate software to the new laptop that we don’t yet have.

I feel the need to make myself some clothing to don when help is requsted.  Perhaps a cape in a shocking shade of pink, and matching stripey tights.  I’m sure there is room to spin round in the cupboard, as long as I promise not to disturb the creepy spiders, with their creepy, straggly webs which drape alluringly over the binding machine. 

My only gripe is that I currently have to teach the damn subject … Pffft.  It’s a hobby, not a career! 

*sigh*

I am a ’slag’.  As such I deserve to have a[n empty] cardboard box shoved onto my toes.  I also deserve to be treated with contempt and ignored.

I am worthless, obviously.

Thank you, Student Who Is Normally Nice.   

Although there are occasions when I would love to get back into the classroom and actually teach,  I do enjoy being a Teaching Assistant.

My Level 3 position involves me wearing a variety of Hats on any one day.  Photocopier Hat; Filing Hat; Teaching Hat; Supportive Hat; Duty Hat; Register Hat; Teller-Off-er Hat; Praise Bounteous Hat; Telephone Hat; Research Hat; Data Hat; Talk to Parental Units Hat; Update Website Hat; Stationery Cupboard Hat; Ordering Stuff Hat; Revision Study Guides Hat; Let’s Gossip Hat; Resource Maker & Compiler Hat; Listener Hat; Cheer-up Hat; Prove My Worth Hat …

Sometimes I even wear my Tea / Coffee / Hot Chocolate Hat with pride [I make a mean hot drink, plus I'm the Queen of weaning teenagers off sugar without them knowing, oh yes].  Occasionally I don’t mind stumbling into the cupboard containing my Fetch This & That, Wench Hat - simple tasks can be a pleasure when one is feeling overworked and stressed.  Hey!  Even TAs get overworked and stressed, especially in the PRU environment.

But what really, really irks me is being treated as a piece of doggy-poo.  I may not be your equal in terms of pay and job-importance, but I should always be treated as your equal in the eyes of a student. 

I don’t mind my Fetch This & That, Wench Hat when the teacher is nice and treats me professionally.  I do mind wearing it when the teacher uses my presence in the classroom to inflate her own self-importance, and to show the kids the true meaning of the word bully. 

So, to vent my annoyance and frustration at a certain young teacher where I work, I have devised some rules which would look beautiful in a fetching display on a, hmmm … pink background, with a black wavy border.

Rules for the teacher -

• If I’m standing next to the cupboard which contains the things I want for the lesson I will open the cupboard and get them myself.  This is most effective when I know where they are and the TA [who never usually works in the classroom] doesn’t.
• I will not just say to a TA, “Can you go and get such-and-such folder?” without explaining where it possibly might be.  She doesn’t normally work in the classroom and is not a mind-reader.  When it becomes apparent that she needs my key to get in the cupboard I will not grumble. 
• I will not allow my TA to interrupt another lesson looking for something which doesn’t exist, even when I desperately need it but wasn’t prepared enough to make sure I had it at the beginning of the lesson.
• As I walk past the table I shall pull it round myself.  I will not wait till all the students are in the way and then ask the TA to do it, especially when the students are also perfectly capable of doing it.
• I will not make sarcastic comments after asking the TA for input about something.   It’s not my fault she is far better at the subject I am teaching than I am myself.
• I will make sure that the web address I want the TA to type into the browser is written down, somewhere.  Again, the TA is not a mind-reader.  I might even allow the students to type the address in themselves; after all, they are teenagers and do have some ability.  They don’t need to be spoon-fed. 
• I will not act unprofessionally in the classroom.  I know that students need to know the boundaries, and me sitting there giggling with them is not the Right Thing.  I am a teacher, not a teenager. 
• I will respect my TA at all times, because she is a person too and is actually worthy of it [usually].

Sometimes, the lack of professionalism amazes me.

She stared at me. You’ve lost weight.  It was a statement, not a question. 

Hey Betty, you sexy beast! laughed the Tired Boy.

Later the Tired Boy was stroppy, lolling around on the floor in the manner of a five year old, rather than the fifteen year old he is. 

How old are you? 

I’m tired, he whinged. 

They have exams coming up.  They’re limited in what they can take (English Language, and Maths) at GCSE, but in the main they like the fact that they can achieve something, even if it’s not their full potential.  And let’s be honest - many of them left their full potential sitting crumpled in a corner when they started being all silly in mainstream school. 

They know that.  And often they want to show that they are capable, that they’re not just teenage wastes of space.

Which is why it’s so irksome when the intelligent Tired Boy prefers to idly lounge around instead of working.

Tsk.

They come from dysfunctional homes, where the norm is to hit and swear and shout.  They live for the present, not for the future.  They see their future as being devoid of choice, mapped out already, full of more dysfunction - where the norm is to hit and swear and shout.  Authority is something to be treated with distrust and kindness is something to be wary of.

If they scream loudly enough they know they’ll grab your attention.

But they are just little kids, full of fear, pain and regret.  They have dreams.  They have hopes.  But they never expect these to be fulfilled. 

They’re worthless. 

Sometimes it’s possible to make them aware that actually they can act on their dreams.  We offer them an alternative.  And then they leave us, aged sixteen, and it all goes to pot.

Sometimes.

If they’re lucky, they do succeed and achieve their potential.

And if they’re not?

Well.

These are naughty kids.  This is my job.  And I love it.