TSB Bombs

At Last.

After 16 years of teaching, my finer qualities have been recognised.

16 years of suffering teenage body odours.



16 years of maintaining a cool, friendly and professional mien.

16 years of correcting students' essays with such basic errors of grammar, syntax and punctuation as to cause an acute and sobbing heartbreak in the depths of my soul.(which I don't have anyway, so it doesn't really matter, but it's a bit existentialist, so I'll keep it in)

Plus of course 3 bloody years putting up with Ringo. (See earlier posts for this tragic tale of Mancunian angst.  And a right bastard)

I had made it.

I had reached the penultimate heights of teaching.

I was now an The Assistant Principal.

My fellow members of the Senior Management Team (did I mention that I'd made Assistant Principal?) celebrated my achievement by telling me that they were ALL taking two days off next week, leaving me in sole charge.

Bugger me, where did they all go?

Now I know think believe dream that my peers recognise me as a competent person, but this was a bit too much, too soon.

Never mind.

I would cope.

What could possibly go wrong.


HA.

Monday was spent with my normal duties, teaching my 2 classes, preparing the next days lessons, checking and moderating assessments, re-labelling my office door,  (Did I mention that I'd been made Assistant Principal?) and getting ready for today. 



D Day.

The day when I was completely and solely in charge.

The day started well, with just a few brave souls about Nuova Lazio High School in the wee, dark hours of the morning.  I expected at least a genuflection from them, but they just gave the usual Kiwi greeting of "G'day Mate" and a cheery wave.

I had originally  planned to wave haughtily and ask them to kiss my ring, but I had second thoughts, as I was worried it might be wrongly construed. (Kiwis, especially those from the lower ranks can be crude on occasion)

There being no morning brief on a Tuesday (the staff all hide away from the SMT (Did I mention that I'd been promoted to the mighty rank of Assistant Principal?) doing things about the kids pastoral care or something of similar obscure and meaningless activity.

 So I sat in my office (The one with the new sign) and did some meaningless paperwork for the Ministry.

The usual suspects shuffled by my door, giving me furtive and guilty looks as they passed.  A faint miasma of poverty and despair wafted into my exclusive area, reminding me of the hardships we all faced in Nuova Lazio High School.

Then the first pupils arrived.

They had the typical morning reasons to see a person of my exalted rank.  Wrong shoes, wrong socks, wrong timetable, wrong school (I kid you not.  His Mum had dropped him off here instead of the Intermediate School on the next street.)

Each case requiring my deeply honed and exquisitely earned expertise in pedagogy and management skills.

I wrote them their excuse notes, sent them back to class (and the misplaced pupil back to Mum or his school or the main road or whatever.  He wasn't one of ours so I didn't really care) and retired to S block for my first second third coffee of the day, exhausted from all that executive strain.

S Block coffee area (Just for us)

I trudged down to class, delivered my usual scintillating and illuminating lesson on relational database in the 3rd Normal Form, and returned to S block for a refreshment.

"This was the way life should be" I thought.


Then I heard the rapid approach of our school secretary.

"TSB" "Thank God I've found you"  "The Police want to see you NOW"  (This last bit was screamed (poor excitable girl) with a note of urgent anguish.

This was the moment.

This was what I was created for.

Did I mention that I was now The Assistant Principal?

The Force is strong within me