I can't do any of the things that proper teachers do without laughing.
After an Easter break, where children have been allowed to talk whenever they like it is the teacher's duty to train them to put their hand up and wait their turn. A teacher must do this for their own sanity, their vocal health and to stop the quiet children being constantly drowned out by the bellowing voices. To achieve this the teacher has to adopt a hands-on-hips stance, employ the eyebrow to full withering effect and say things like, "I think you've all forgotten how to behave. You can't just talk whenever you want to." When I do this I always get the urge to snigger. I have to turn my face away from them and have a private chuckle to myself at how ridiculous I sound. Sometimes, I don't stop them. Sometimes I like to hear their enthusiasm as they all shout out answers, trying to outdo each other with their loudness, cleverness or silliness. I know that doesn't help other teachers and I'm sorry.
Walking is another thing that teachers must re-train children to do after a holiday. Children never walk anywhere in holidays. They run, skip, jog but never walk and they certainly wouldn't chose to walk in a straight line in complete silence but these are the things Ofsted look for (I know because a school I worked in was criticised for children entering assembly not in complete silence in the week before Christmas when it was snowing), so teachers must train this behaviour into their children. After play the children bundled in, chatting, laughing and fist pumping at the thought of having music and I knew it was my duty to retrain. When my dog is over-excitable around other dogs, I keep his attention by holding a treat to his nose as he walks in a straight line but you are not allowed to tease children with chocolate (or dog treats) in school. Instead, I thought I would try practise.
"That was a bit noisy," I said, hands on hips, eyebrow waggling, "You've all forgotten how to walk. Let's try it again."
With slumped shoulders they lined up again and shuffled in and out of the room. The sight of them and the image of myself as the stern teacher gave me the giggles.
Sometimes, after a holiday, there will be children who have extended their vocabulary in ways that shouldn't be spread to the whole school population. Proper teachers remind children that, "these are words we don't use in school," without even a hint of a
smile. I find rude words funny. I probably need to grow up. Children's idea of what is a rude word is often very different from mine. "Miss, he said I was silly."
"Oh Mm. Naughty. He said shut up."
This week, in one class we were naming the instruments of a symphony orchestra and putting them in the correct
sections. The class were very excited to show how much they knew.
"Didgereedoo.....woodwind"
"Great. Definitely woodwind but not in a symphony orchestra."
"What's that thing they play in heaven in the string section?...A heart."
"Harp. Yes. Well done."
"Triangle. Percussion."
"Ting!"
"The thing that E plays at orchestra. A baboon."
"Bassoon. What section?"
"Woodwind."
"Ooh, ooh, I know French Horn bras."
The class dissolved into puddles of laughter.
"Yes. Good. Brass section."
She blushed slightly but pushed her hand into the air so high she almost touched the ceiling (quite impressive for the shortest girl in the class)
"Ooh, ooh, the stretched out one...the trombone is in the bras too."
"Yes it is. The brasssssss."
She tried.
"B...b...br...braaaaaaaaa......bras."
By this time children were cupping their imaginary breasts, pouting and wiggling."
It was tricky but I resisted asking her where she kept her trumpet and I couldn't help the Gotta Have a Gimmick song from Gypsy, entering my mind.
At the end of the lesson I made the shortest girl in the class my music star of the week.
"But Miss you can't give it to her, she said a rude word."
I'll never be a proper teacher!
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