The Night Tolkien Died

Yr 9 Maths, T2

They have a worksheet on Index Laws, whatever they are – something about simplifying algebra equations (I was never a good maths student!). I start off by reminding the students that, contrary to popular opinion, when I show up that does not mean there’s no work. I hold up the worksheets they are to do as evidence, and say “I have it here”. I then say “But it looks like it’s pretty easy, so if you finish quickly then you can have a bludge.” This seems to satisfy them and they settle down to work.

Before long a couple of boys have finished. One requests to go to his locker to get a book to read. The other wants to go to the library to get a book he has had on order for two months. He’s champing at the bit to go, but I say no, telling him he can surely wait a couple of hours. He pleads, so I make a deal with him: if I’ve read it or I know the book I’ll let him go. It turns out it is a book I know, if haven’t read – Soldier Boy, by Anthony Hill. He goes.

I receive the pink roll sheet that the students have been passing around and writing their names on. Some wag has included as part of the class Osama Bin Laden, Saddam Hussain, Hitler, plus George W Bush and Tony Blair. I remark that it’s all correct – they’re all bad guys. Some kids question this, but I stand my ground.

The other boy comes back from his locker with a book, The Night Tolkien Died. I’m intrigued, so I ask to look at it. I tell the boy to go away so I can read the title story. He seems a bit indignant, but complies. I happily pass the time browsing through the book till the bell.

Cinema Show

Yr 7 PE, C7

This is kinda interesting: I have a tag-team situation with Kate, a scrumptiously gorgeous substitute (unfortunately, married) who I’ve known for a while on the rounds. We’re instructed to show a video (Harry Potter) to our respective groups. I go down the gym to round them up while Kate sets the video up in the designated classroom. When I finally get them to the room Kate has set it out beautifully, with chairs all arranged in order like a cinema. I make a quip about popcorn being for sale in the foyer, and Kate joins in, saying something about programmes being available.

We encounter our first glitch when the video machine doesn’t seem to play the tape properly – it keeps stopping. I volunteer to get the other machine in a room nearby. It’s locked up in a cupboard, but I quickly gain the keys. Problem is, once I’ve opened the padlock I still can’t open the door – the latch has been bent by some hoon. I go off to the tech department in search of a hammer. Eventually, after some hammering, I get the door open and roll the new machine into the waiting class, where Kate has been keeping the kids occupied with a few rounds of Celebrity Heads.

Kate tries the tape again and it turns out the problem is with the tape – it doesn’t play properly! I volunteer again to go off in search of a different tape – any tape – amidst sundry, mostly unrealistic suggestions from the students about what to get. I go to the staffroom next door and find Back To The Future. Good enough! I’m back before Kate has got her game of Celebrity Heads well under way, and we finally settle down to watch the film. It’s nearly fifteen minutes before the end of the first period when the movie starts. Luckily, it’s a double period for us. The kids complain predictably about my choice of movie, but it keeps them occupied until the end of the second period.

What a lot of mucking around just to show one bloody video!

Jelly Lick Aerobics

Yr 8 Aerobics, Room 11

It’s a class of young aerobics girls. They have to write up a report about their recent trip to an aerobics presentation at Melbourne College. They seem like a nice bunch of friendly girls and most set to the task, albeit noisily. I chat amiably with the girls sitting in front of me.

To my surprise, one girl up the back gets out a packet of jelly crystals and starts licking up a handful like sugar. Before long other girls are grabbing handfuls and doing the same. So I’m sitting here watching a bunch of young girls sticking out their long tongues lapping up jelly crystals like thirsty kittens. Just hold that picture for a second…

I make some brief notes for this afternoon while they work and/or lick: ‘Buy cereal, cash check, scan more photos, listen to girlsongs, watch Brides of Christ and Jamie’s Kitchen tape.’ Jeez, how mundane! Anyway, the girlsongs thing is in aid of a sixties girl group compilation I’m compiling. I’ve got the best of the Shangri-Las, the Chiffons, the Shirelles, the Angels, the Ronettes, the Crystals, the Dixie Cups and more. It’s gonna kick ass!

The licking ends and most get back to work. One girl up front speculates to her friend what having this class of loud, giggling girls must be like for me. She suggests a nightmare. I think to myself, well, I think something else...

I write up some Buffy lists:

Top 5 Buffy Villians

Spike
Angelus
Glory
The Master
The Gentlemen

Top 5 Buffy Babes

Buffy
Willow
Faith
Kennedy
Dawn

I wanted to include Anya here (I liked her in the early days), but I’ve kind of gone off her lately. God, what am I gonna do when the show ends? Is there a Buffy withdrawal service somewhere?

Typing Tutor

Yr 10 Keyboarding, E3

I’ve got a Keyboarding group, they’re all – or most of them – using some fancy typing tutor. Boy, keyboarding’s come a long way from when I used to do it and we had real type writers. The typing program these kids are using has all these whizz-bang special effects and animations happening to keep the little darlings happy while they type what it tells them to type. They can choose from all kinds of funny background scenarios, like sharks and cowboys, and there’s one where a starship blows up various objects in space, depending on whether the kids get their typing right.

Even so, some kids aren’t happy, they think it’s boring. Typical. I have to keep an eye on some of them, who are trying to sneak onto the internet, while others are sneaking goes at a paint program and others are playing Mario. I speak to the Mario players, who say they’re just having a break. I let them go – I can see they have been working.

A girl on the other side of the room complains about the Mario players (ie: how come they get to play games, while we work). I tell you, it doesn’t matter what you do, someone’s always gonna be unhappy.

I walk past an unattended computer which has the screen saver on. It’s a revolving text message that loops and twists around the screen, changing colours and size as it goes. It says ‘Lesbian Muff’.

Me And The Captain

Year 11 Maths, B10

Well, this is weird: I turn up to class, but the students don’t. I check the timetable, in case I got it wrong, but no, this is where they should be. I go looking for them – the library, the gym, etc – but all the year elevens I find say they’ve got a spare. For all I know some of them were my students pretending not to be – I wouldn’t know, I haven’t even got a class list. I go back to class where it’s still empty. Suits me; makes for a nice easy class and I’m still getting paid for it. It is boring though sitting here in an empty classroom, so I write up a list.

Top 10 Captain Beefheart tunes

Moonlight On Vermont
Big-eyed Beans From Venus
Dirty Blue Gene
The Blimp
Neon Meat Dream of a Octafish
Abba Zaba
Tropical Hot Dog Night
Ashtray Heart
Sue Egypt
Old Fart At Play

Love the Captain. I’m planning on doing my own Beefheart-esque tunes soon, using lyrics taken from stuff I’ve written in class about students I know. A couple of titles so far are ‘Nickel Rose’ and ‘Nay OmiO’.

The monotony is broken by a couple of year seven girls acting as roll monitors. They stand uncertainly at the door, not sure if they should come in. I tell them my students have run away. They’re amazed. While I write down the entry in the roll one girl writes something on the blackboard. It says: “Brooke is gay, very gay.”

Lesbians

Year 10 VET (private study), T2

Pretty laidback class. About half of my twelve students are doing some study, the rest are, well, bludging. My job is basically to babysit. Shweeeet! It’s a free-dress day too. Most of the kids are wearing jeans, sneakers and sports tops. Exchanging one uniform for another really.

You should have seen the kids in my last class: years sevens, and some of them were dressed up to the nines. One little girl, Sinead, was wearing a sophisticated little gold party top with plunging neckline (plunging into very little!) and spaghetti straps. One of her friends said she was trying to impress her boyfriend. That’ll do it, I thought to myself – but said to her it wasn’t very appropriate for school. Ah well, they’re year sevens – what do you expect?

Anyway, back to this class, check it out - a couple of girls have spent most of the period in each other’s arms. They’re either lesbians or very comfortable with each other. One of the boys, Aaron, asks them if he can ‘watch’. One of them, Blair, says “Join us”. Aaron enthusiastically runs over, but he’s only pretending; he knows she doesn’t really mean it.

God, look at them: now the other, Renee, is leaning her head on Blair’s breasts, which are covered by a flimsy white low-cut top. Oh baby…I know this seems like weird behaviour for a classroom, but believe me, really it’s not. The kids don’t even expect me to say something to them about it, and I don’t. I mean, it’s only ‘private study’.

Another girl, Kristin, is starting to play around with some hard lollies she’s brought to class. They’re those little round sour-balls covered in coconut. She’s throwing them around, trying to get them in the bin, which is behind me. She knows it’s annoying me but she doesn’t care, and frankly, neither do I. She takes great delight in calling them her “hairy balls”.

Breakfast Cereal Boxes

Year 8 PE, Room 11

They’ve got theory, or something like that, so I’ve put them in a classroom. The work left by the teacher is an activity where the kids are to design their own breakfast cereal box. Weird, huh? The kids don’t seem to mind, and get to dreaming up various ideas and drawing them. One kid’s got a cereal made of worms, another one insists on a design that incorporates a picture of a certain teacher.

A couple of girls come in late and I just give them the work and leave them alone. A student later tells me they’re actually not supposed to be in this class and should be sent away. I tell him I don’t care, just as long as they’re occupied somewhere then it shouldn’t matter. When the girls realise I know they’re not supposed to be there and I don’t care, the joke they’re playing seems to lose it’s appeal, and they decide to leave. One of the girls tells me, “You’re a strange man.” I take it as a compliment.