A dog, a gift the dog left the school and some 7 and 8 year olds who became very avid security guards. Hmmm...what could this possibly be all about? Well it was an event that I certainly never expected to see as a teacher.
It all happened one morning. I had been a teacher for about ten years but had been teaching at that specific school for less than two. At that point I had been allowed to set up a classroom on the second floor for remedial reading and I was very enthusiastic about the possibilities that that allowed me. However, that morning, the bell rang announcing that religious instruction was about to begin for the entire school.
For those who don't know, religious instruction or R.I. is a period in most government schools where students gather in various classrooms according to their religious persuasion to be instructed in their beliefs. Some of the religious instructors were volunteers who, needless to say, often struggled if their classrooms were crammed with upwards of thirty students varying in age.
Students loved it - "freedom from my classroom!" Teachers loved it - "freedom for me!" Who doesn't need freedom?
Well, upon hearing that bell I followed my students out of my classroom with clear instructions to head straight to their respective rooms, ..."and remember, I'm watching you!" As I stood in the corridor looking over a banister that gave me a clear view of all the classrooms, including the courtyard I closely monitored each of my students as they one-by-one slid into their rooms - a few of them glancing at me regularly: "I wonder if she still looking boy!"
My students were gone and I shifted my focus. Students were running helter-skelter. Some were on a mission to arrive before their sessions began, others were trying to squeeze out as much 'stretch-your-legs' time as possible before the inevitable 'boof' by a wandering teacher but a fair number were just having the time of their lives: "I love school. We does play pitch, cricket and ketch (a.k.a. catch)."
However, before I could even begin to play the usher I heard the frantic cries of enthusiastic students just a few feet away and could see a cluster of students. "Don't come here!" "Go dat way boy!" "Miss say don't come!" My attention was diverted once again. I had no choice but to create some order to this mayhem. Little did I know what I would see.
It all happened one morning. I had been a teacher for about ten years but had been teaching at that specific school for less than two. At that point I had been allowed to set up a classroom on the second floor for remedial reading and I was very enthusiastic about the possibilities that that allowed me. However, that morning, the bell rang announcing that religious instruction was about to begin for the entire school.
For those who don't know, religious instruction or R.I. is a period in most government schools where students gather in various classrooms according to their religious persuasion to be instructed in their beliefs. Some of the religious instructors were volunteers who, needless to say, often struggled if their classrooms were crammed with upwards of thirty students varying in age.
Students loved it - "freedom from my classroom!" Teachers loved it - "freedom for me!" Who doesn't need freedom?
Well, upon hearing that bell I followed my students out of my classroom with clear instructions to head straight to their respective rooms, ..."and remember, I'm watching you!" As I stood in the corridor looking over a banister that gave me a clear view of all the classrooms, including the courtyard I closely monitored each of my students as they one-by-one slid into their rooms - a few of them glancing at me regularly: "I wonder if she still looking boy!"
My students were gone and I shifted my focus. Students were running helter-skelter. Some were on a mission to arrive before their sessions began, others were trying to squeeze out as much 'stretch-your-legs' time as possible before the inevitable 'boof' by a wandering teacher but a fair number were just having the time of their lives: "I love school. We does play pitch, cricket and ketch (a.k.a. catch)."
However, before I could even begin to play the usher I heard the frantic cries of enthusiastic students just a few feet away and could see a cluster of students. "Don't come here!" "Go dat way boy!" "Miss say don't come!" My attention was diverted once again. I had no choice but to create some order to this mayhem. Little did I know what I would see.
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