It’s Bonfire night. 5th November 2020
Lockdown Version two begins in the UK today.
And it’s my six year anniversary. Today I celebrate my new beginning.
Wednesday 5th November 2014.
I wake up. Thoughts rush in. I pad downstairs to my kitchen. Harsh light flickers on. I boil the kettle and wait. More thoughts. I make myself some green tea, sit down at my kitchen table and open my work emails. Tutors informing of their students misdeeds. Teachers wanting take their pupils in hand. Brevity from a line manager wanting to know the whereabouts of my level assessments. Middle managers wanting to schedule meetings. More meetings. That one child who found my email address and wants clarification on an issue he could easily have asked his classmates.
It’s still dark. Fridge humming. Eerily quiet during pauses. I pull up my hood and replenish my tea with freshly boiled water. Deep breath. More emails. I make a mental note of all the things I need to do before I start teaching. I write some of it in my planner. My words spill on to the next day. So many things.
It’s not my House assembly day. It’s a Wednesday so its Whole school assembly. It’s my deputies turn on late detention duty this morning so I stride purposefully into the arena. Glancing downwards to check feet for trainers as our boys file into the hall to sit down. Enquiring after missing ties. Gesturing with a smile for shirts to be tucked in. Urging the younger, but not necessarily smaller, pupils to scoot up on the floor so that we can fit the thousand-strong cohort (sans late comers and absentees) Into the vast space. With all the teachers, teaching assistants and a few suited visitors. Reminding one tiny maverick to take his coat and hat off for the umpteenth time. Coaxing a growing pubescent boy to fold himself unnaturally. Stunted. It’s just for 10 minutes. You’ll be fine. And then back to patrol the room. Scanning. Admiring my boys fully uniformed backs as our head teacher speaks Noting with barely disguised pride that my House are all wearing their blazers. An impressive sight. All those growing minds and bodies.
These things were important then.
The day disappeared. There was too much to do as always. I managed to get out of the building at lunchtime. 45 minutes cut to 35 because trying to get from my office to the Foyer always turned out to be a mission. Like an agile player in a surreal video game.
Leaving for my lunch was my non-negotiable. That tiny radical act – daring to break free during the school day to eat a nutritious meal – or most often sit in silence in my own home – kept a lid on my simmering but as yet unacknowledged feelings. It stopped the lidded pan from boiling over. I thought it kept me sane.
I don't remember if I ate or what it was if I did. I made a hot drink and put my face close to the steam. My thawing hands enjoying the heat. The house was cold so I stayed in one room and undid my coat. Perfectly manicured Loose women gesticulating wildly on mute. The boiler had broken weeks ago. I decided I couldn’t afford to fix it. Plus it was fine. It was only me at home now the girls were at university. I could hold on a bit longer. Maybe another months pay packet. A little cold never hurt anyone.
Back to work. A blur of an afternoon. Then detentions. Then a department meeting. We had a visitor with a plan. No discussion. No choice. The decision had been made. All we, the teachers, had to do was implement it. Half a term in the run up to Christams. Six lessons over six weeks. Then a big reveal. We’d navigate group dynamics and various personalities. Different abilities, attitudes, mindsets, backgrounds, up-bringing and languages. We’d encounter apathy, excitement, boredom, stubbornness, curiosity and questioning. All racing around the classroom with puberty in tow. Culminating in group presentations with assorted results. From unfinished to lackluster to deliberately comical to didactic to occasionally inspired. Six weeks. That’s all we had to do. Teach the children.
I was only half listening I was busy working out how much work I could fit in after the meeting. I had one hour before the premises manager would tannoy for me to leave the building. I could tackle more at home.
Then the fire alarm sounded…
To be continued.