Wednesday, 5 November 2008

Miss Bitch

Teaching makes me become such a bitch.

It's Wednesday, so I have my lesson (yay!), but today I also had a couple of other mini-lessons with smaller groups making 'Slime' (Cornflour + Water + Food Dye... try it, it's ace). I know my "I'm the teacher" time with the kids is short and sporadic, but when they're with me they genuinely behave impeccably. It makes me go warm and fuzzy inside to think about my little darlings sat there in near-silence, beavering away at their work. I felt myself physically ooze with pride when a teacher commented in the staff room today (in front of half the staff), saying that she'd popped her head into the classroom to say something and decided not to disturb me because she was so "wowed" by how well I was handling the class. It's things like this that just make my life.

As I said, my teaching times are short and sporadic, so it's probably relatively easy to control behaviour. I can spoil them with short-term rewards, or lay the discipline on thick without needing to follow it up in later lessons. That's what makes me feel like a bitch... I usually draw a chart on the whiteboard and tally good behaviour points. It's so easy to give them and take them away. "Oh look, I think I'm going to have to wipe another point off your tally! Oh dear." and with one quick swish of my finger their hopes of being House Champion (or whatever it is) are swished away.

The ultimate bitch moment of today however, was when I was with Foundation this afternoon. I was working on the drawing table with groups of children. Yasmin had already drawn her picture, and others needed her place at the table to do theirs, so I asked her to leave. She asked for more paper to do another. I said no, told her to go away. She came and asked again. I repeated no. On the third time of asking I got mad and told her that if Miss C says no, she means it so do not ask again. She stopped and stared dumbstruck at me for a good, long minute, before absolutely bawling her eyes out and crying that she wanted Mummy. Fuck. So, of course, I couldn't back down, and got stuck in one of those internal arguements over whether or not I should hug the little thing... as her cries got louder and louder...


Rains/Pours Update: Guy With The Girlf called me at midnight and left me a voicemail telling me he'd broken up with Girlf. It happened at the weekend, and he was planning on telling me when he saw me... He sent a few txts after, saying he genuinely missed me etc etc and might visit me in France.
I still think I made the right decision. Girlf or not, I didn't trust him. It's just a bitch that he's so hot.

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