Thursday, January 31, 2008

Faith Day


Occasionally, like most proper and professional schools (ahem), we have trainings or what they refer to as "teacher in-service," whatever the hell that means. Sometimes they are administrative meetings, a few weeks ago it was about pedophilia (don't have little girls sitting on your lap! it's possible that you have your hand secretly concealed up their skirt!). Today, the training is about Catholic faith. Whether they don't want to pay me the extra hours or they know that I'm not a practicing Catholic, I'm not sure. What I do know is that I haven't been invited, thank god.

Saturday, January 26, 2008

Machinations

ATTENTION: NEW ENFORCEMENT OF DISCIPLINE POLICY

Beginning: January 28, 2008, piloted in middle school (gr.6-8)


Dear Parents,

Since Christmas break we’ve noticed an increase in some chronic behaviors, particularly in our middle school students. Teachers and staff report having to ask students several times to be quiet, stay in their seat, and in general, correct them for not following directions. Some students try to argue or question the teachers’ authority. We’ve tried many interventions and consequences to try and correct these behaviors with little success. Many of the behaviors by themselves are not severe, but they are chronic and it makes it difficult for teachers to teach and other students to learn.

Therefore, beginning Monday, in middle school only, we will be enforcing our policies in a much stricter manner. Instead of pink slips, each teacher will have a roster with a check list. If they need to correct a child, that child will receive a check and will be told they have received one. If a student reaches three checks in one day, he/she will be immediately sent to the office and you will be called to come and pick your child up for the rest of the day. We strongly feel that if a student cannot follow the rules of the school, then they should not be here. The student will be allowed to return the next day and the three checks will start over again. This way each day is a fresh start for them. Obviously, a serious infraction will bypass the three checks and result in immediate intervention.

We believe most of our students have just developed bad habits and are not purposely being disrespectful. This method will help them correct their behavior and develop better habits for learning. It will also help us single out the students who need more guidance and help making necessary changes in their behavior.

Please sign the next page and send it back to school on Monday. Thank you very much for your support and concern.

Sincerely,

XXXXX XXXXXX, Principal

Friday, January 25, 2008

My first perk!

The students of English Teacher X give him hot Russian, vodka sex. Those of Monsieur Prof d'Anglais give him delicious, sticky Afghan hash. Those of M C Ward take him surfing? Me, my student gave me a new pair of Nikes (pictured at right). Yes, they are very sweeeet (although shamefully politically incorrect) and may, perhaps, get me laid by hot chicks at the club. I'd rather be in Samara with ETX, skipping the shoes and just going straight to the hot sex.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

chinny chin chin


I nearly escaped with my life by the hairs on my chiny chin chin.

Seconds before class was to start, I found myself in the cold, damp and dark den of the secretary. I reached the copier machine without being noticed, opened the lid, deftly inserted my master plan and then... my education failed me; I never learned how to properly operate a copier machine. I was forced to ask for help. I found myself at the mercy of Ilene, the dreaded secretary.

She seemed calm enough, surveyed the situation and then pushed print. There was a problem, one which I'm not prepared to diagnose. After 15 blank pages she pushed cancel, opened the lid, removed my page and declared me safe to proceed. Easy enough I thought, although the digital display indicated the machine was ready to print 250 copies. I moved to push "clear quantity" and that's when my life flashed before my ears. As cold as widowed snake, she hissed, "DO NOT DO THAT!" I found myself, flashed back to my childhood, defenseless, helpless, powerless; I wanted to cry. As quickly as it had started, I regained my footing, albeit in a less than commanding tone, I proclaimed, "you said 'go ahead.'" She faded in the distance. I made the copies, escaped with my life.

Monday, January 21, 2008

If looks could kill...


The first trimester has recently reached its conclusion. I've bid farewell to my beloved 3rd and 4th graders for they were a lively bunch and not entirely without a properly functioning intellect. Since, I have moved up and on to the 5th and 6th graders who should be able to handle more complex, mental exercises, commonly known in the teaching profession as explicit grammar instruction! [the screams, shrieks of children echo in the fore and aft]

One may or may not be surprised to learn that I am a relatively easy-going, mild tempered teacher who is not prone to assign homework, quizzes or tests, not entirely because I don't believe in grading but because I'd rather avoid the paperwork. I also tend to follow the communicative method, day after day. Take that and combine it with my sincere desire for the children to truly enjoy themselves in class and the result might be characterized by a casual observer as a seemingly chaotic clusterfuck: 30 children skipping about, all looking for a partner to interview, inquiring about their present taste in books, tv shows, preferred dinner entrés and the like, all in a steady, vocalized roar, loud enough to create a vigorously, roiling boil which, when untempered, will reach the point of spill-forth in any self-respecting Catholic school teacher; two of which are perched daily at their desks in the back of the room, eyes glaring with a look that, if it could kill...

I roll into 5th grade at about 2:00. The teacher has the children prepared with Spanish notebooks out and bilingual, pocket dictionaries on the desk. The teacher, well, she uses this time as preparation: the mindless grading of papers, the dull task of entering scores in her journal, the desperate watching of the clock. All of her efforts will come to no avail. Spanish class has begun and the the mayhem is not far behind. Why the teacher doesn't simply vacate the premises and seek refuge in the teacher lounge is beyond me; It would make a better situation for all involved. But no! The teacher stays and it gets hot in her kitchen.

It starts with the look in her eye and the reddening of her face that makes her look like a pissed off tomato. This should be enough to put the fear of god into the children, however and unfortunately, they are looking the opposite way, they face me. I, on the other hand, face the children and the glaring, murderous visage of the teacher. I manage, mostly, to ignore her as do the children. But when there is a will, there is a way and this way consists mostly of yelling, shouting and, in general, verbally violating the children who never see it coming. One minute, they are in an ecstatic bliss, enjoying the intellectual stimuli as is presented through the Spanish medium by yours truly, vocalizing what had been strange and foreign sounds, flashing smiles to their classmates who share in their embarrassment at uttering such obvious non-sense, when giggles begin to emerge and the rumble grows stronger; then, at the very next minute, the teacher in the back of the room is no longer the master of the demon within. She releases violent, verbal blows, vocalized slashes, hot steel of castigation, shame, and demoralization is struck, lacerated into the souls of the children. The power structure must be preserved and the children must know their role and pay the price, much to their horror and mine.

And it gets worse. Last Wednesday, after school, I was coolly making my way up the stairs trying to avoid the principal while slipping into my car for a clean escape, when, at last, I found myself confronted by the secretary. At her side, there stood one of my students, whimpering, teary eyed and confused and I wondered how she had arrived upstairs before myself. The secretary demanded that the student owe me an apology for her behavior in class and that she promise not to tap her hands on the desk again. It seems that during the class, perhaps while my back was turned, she was extraordinarily rendered from the class and sent to gitmo, the principals office. Dumbfounded, for I hadn't the slightest idea that she had been forced from the class, I accepted her apology.

the end?

Saturday, January 19, 2008

smooth sailing


Everything seems to be going rather smoothly at the school: I try to do as little work as possible and my bosses have been ignoring me for the most part. I'd call that smooth sailing.

I don't give many grammar/translation exercises, not because I don't think they're useful but because I would have to grade them all! This goes for tests and quizzes, too; I happen to think these, on the other hand, are pretty useless. I'm supposed to submit weekly lesson plans to my boss but I don't and I hardly ever see her. We had to post grades the other day. I went to the computer, opened the program, and gave full credit to about 90 students.

It kinda feels too good to be true. I'm sure that, soon enough, I'll get a phone call, a summons where I'll have to face the executioner, take responsibility, be held accountable for my shortcomings and repent for my sins.

Thursday, January 3, 2008

From Beers to Barbells



Well, since I'm at the brink of divorce largely due to my after-hours drunkenness which often leads to moodiness and I have developed a thick layer of fat that begins at my collar bones and stretches south below my navel, not to mention a ballooning buttocks and thighs; combined with the wife's high level of stress due to over-work and the long commute which is more than double the hours that I put in a week; I thought I better shape-up before she ships me out, figuratively and literally.

So, for the moment, I've left my compatriots at the ale house, to which I am currently a mug club member at the bargain price of $60 on the year and the first over-sized pint of the day is one buck, to join my other brethren at the sports club at the bargain price of $79 for the processing fee (a bunch of bullocks if you ask me) and a $24 monthly fee (for the moment, I am taking advantage of the free, 7 day trial, very nize).

Today was my first day and let me tell you, it felt good! Of course a little eye candy never hurts and there was plenty :-D

I plan on taking full liberties of the lap pool, jacuzzi (a borrowed word from Japanese for 'hot tub' :-), sauna (borrowed from Finnish), showers and all the other normal stuff. I even considered shaving me beard and plucking my uni-brow right down ze middle!

Back with Berlitz, It's hard to make money in PJs.


Since my few hours at the Catholic schools have resulted in a rather low balance in my bank account, I've decided to get back with Berlitz and work a few morning hours.

My new client is the wife of a German engineer who is working for a major auto manufacturer out in the 'burbs. I've worked with such wives before and, let me tell you, they've got it made; The whole trip is paid, the flight, housing, the salary is half in Euros and half in dollars, and they get free English classes with Berlitz, among other things. It's a great deal for them, they're being paid to go be American for a while.

I've been feeling a bit under the weather lately but have been hoping that it would subside. Nevertheless, I tossed and turned last night and was up at 7 a.m. getting ready to go to work. I ironed my one pair of work pants and a shirt, did my little morning routine and was out the door. Stopped in the café to break a twenty for bus fare and had a machiato (cortado in Spain, noisette in France, and _______ in Brasil). I passed the 15 ride reading "The Shock Doctrine" by Naomi Klein and arrived 15 min. early for work, red eyed and nose running.

A rather cute, japanese-american co-worker showed up at the door and we waited together for the running-late-because-she-overslept/missed-the-bus, cute catalan secretary to let us in. She seemed high on caffine and the starbucks cup in her hand confirmed my suspicion. She inquired as to what I was reading and proceeded to inform me that she is not much of a reader nor is her father who has, "never read a book cover to cover." Wierded out, I impatiently waited for my catalana.

At last, she arrived, looking marvelous as always, even at 8:45 a.m., let us in, and we all moved to assume our battle stations when my colleague asked, "who are you teaching this morning?"
"I'm teaching Olga...um...who are you teaching?...Olga!"

So, here I am, back at home in my PJs not earning any money.

C'est la vie.