After becoming increasingly frustrated with the other, young (stupid, insensitive) teacher last week, I decided that I. Was. Done. helping her out.
This came after she brought her class down to our (enormous) oval about 20 minutes after us and set up within 10 m of my class for her fitness session.
I was winding up our science experiment which involved an unfair relay (easiest way to show kids that we need to be fair when we test in science is to make a game unfair).
She starts shouting instructions to her class WHILE I am talking to mine. THEN she told some boys in my class to move because they were in the way.
FUCK it love – you have an entire oval to do your shit on and you bring your class within a few metres of mine and THEN complain???
…when I went over to ask her to give us some space to finish up (quietly so the kids couldn’t hear) she said “it doesn’t really matter what you get done because you are only the supply teacher”.
Rioght. It’s on Biatch.
I was civil to her for the rest of the week, but also supremely unhelpful.
“So sorry, we are still using that equipment (that I brought from home), you’ll have to find something else to use”.
“Oh darn it, we finished up the remaining (resource I brought from home), you’ll have to find your own”.
“So sorry, I didn’t realise you wanted that – I only photocopied enough copies for my class”.
All done in my patented passive-aggressive style.
While I hate having to work like that, I felt so much freer and better. I wasn’t frustrated. I wasn’t feeling angry. I wasn’t feeling upset. I was feeling on top of everything and I was flying!
… meanwhile, my class shone like the diamonds that they are.
….meanwhile, my kids begged me to stay until the end of the year.
….meanwhile, we got on with the business of teaching and learning.
…..and meanwhile, the special ed teacher who works with some students in my class casually mentioned that the spec. ed unit was really happy with the work I’ve been doing with their kids.
….and meanwhile the spec ed aide that works in my class mentioned my work with the head of spec ed.
…. and meanwhile, the head of spec ed has passed on his recommendation that I be given my own class next year to the principal.
Nothing is set in stone.
I still might not get the job I want.
I still might get stupid, nasty, bullshit crap pulled on me from young idiots who think they know it all.
But that doesn’t matter to me, because it feels like my work has been noticed.
It feels like I have come out shining despite what seemed to be two deliberate attempts to disrupt my teaching*.
…and it feels like you had a hand in this.
…. it feels like you did some whispering for me.
I miss you.
I love you.
*There was another incident earlier in the week involving a photocopier, me trying to be helpful, and a wild goose chase that could have put me in the wrong place at the wrong time were it not for a fabulous aide).