Wednesday, October 26, 2011

School Story #1

Some teachers and I were 'talking shop' the other day and I was sharing some funny anecdotes from my somewhat illustrious career.  And it made me think that I should publish a couple of these stories on my blog.  I offer you Story #1.

'Mrs. Sotham'.  A portrait by a former student.

We bought our first house and moved to Squamish in 1993.  At the time, I was a stay-at-home mom with three very young children.

But stay-at-home moms don't generate any income and there were bills to be paid.  Many bills.  Lots of bills.  We had a huge mortgage (or so it seemed to us at the time) and we decided that after being home with the kids for 8 years, it was time for me to ease back into the work force in 1995 and bring home a little bacon.

I proudly became a teacher-on-call.  I had never been a substitute teacher before and I naively thought, "How hard can it really be?"

One day I found out.  The hard way.  The hardest way.

One of my first assignments was to teach a Grade One class in a local elementary school.  The students were unruly, they were disruptive, they were disrespectful.  My previous 7 years experience as a classroom teacher did not help me one bit with this group.

By 2:40pm I had had it up to here with their shenanigans.  I decided I would have the children gather up their jackets and backpacks and head out to the playground where we would thankfully end our long and painful day.

I stood at the front of the classroom and explained to the students what we were about to do.  I noticed 'Aurora' (not her real name) crouching on her seat in the front row.  She watched me intently.  Her knees were up by her ears like a frog.  I also noticed that she was slowly taking her socks off and balling them up.  I didn't even ask what she was doing because by this point I didn't care.  I. Did. Not. Care.

All of a sudden Aurora leaped out of her desk, crammed her damp ball of socks in my mouth and shouted, "AAAAAAAH....PUT A SOCK IN IT!"

That was it!  Without saying a word I grabbed her by the wrist and marched her down the hallway towards the principal's office.  She went boneless and slumped to the floor shouting, "Ow!  Ow!  You're hurting me!  You're hurting me!"  I just snarled at her, "Stand up and walk.  Then it won't hurt."

I stomped through the secretary's office with the six year old offender in tow and barged through the open door into the principal's office where he was writing at his desk.

I spluttered, "This, this girl, Aurora, just jumped out, out of her desk and tried to shove her socks in my, my mouth."  As the words were spilling out I knew how ridiculous it all sounded.

As the principal listened to my tale of woe (still focussing on the paperwork at his desk), a slow grin started to spread across his face.  He half-heartedly tried to muffle a chuckle.

I said, "You don't know me Mr. Smith-Jones (not his real name) but I happen to have an excellent sense of humour AND I DON'T FIND ANYTHING FUNNY ABOUT THIS!"  With that I released Aurora's wrist, turned on my heels, and stormed out of his office.

Mayhem greeted me upon my return to the Grade One classroom.  I barked for everyone to get outside and go play on the jungle gym.

The blessed school bell rang at 3 o'clock.  I dismissed the students from the playground and returned to the classroom to tidy up.  Mr. Smith-Jones was there with his arm around the sock crammer.  "Aurora has something to say to you."  I looked them both.  "Sor-ry".  It was one of the most pathetic apologies I had ever heard in my life.

I left a note for the classroom teacher saying "If I ever return to this classroom it will be against my better judgement".  The teacher, who has since become a good friend, felt terrible and called me at home that night.  We had a laugh on the phone and have shared many laughs about it since.

Several years later, I attended a Squamish event and who did I run into?  Why, Aurora, of course!  At first she looked right past me, not recognizing me.  But when she came to the realization of who I was, she appeared absolutely horrified.  Her eyes grew wide, her mouth shrank to a small 'O' and she covered her face with her hands.  Aurora gasped, "Ohhhhhh.....I am SO sorry!"  Now that was a sincere apology.  We hugged, we laughed, we were friends.

The moral of the story?  Teachers do not get paid enough.

3 comments:

  1. You got that right sister!!
    shu

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  2. either do nurses, but this story makes me damn glad I didn't switch faculties in university like someone tried to convince me to. I would be in jail now!!

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  3. Oh Nancy. These stories are still hilarious years later. There is no profession like ours. Irene

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