On Not Posting In Awhile

Geez! It's been awhile since I've posted, eh? One would assume, with the lack of posting that I've been doing, that I'm a busy little beaver (like the Canadian connotation there? I do)! Well, you'd be dead on! I've been running around like a chicken with my head cut off for the past little while. Mostly, I've been attending meeting after meeting after meeting, much to my discomfort (and physical pain, in some instances). In case you were wondering, the physical pain mostly came from wearing heels for a twelve hour day...but you could also factor in uncomfortable seating at uncomfortable meetings as well.

Anyways, I could bore you by going into detail about what I've been up to the past week and a bit, but I will spare you. I will give you a brief update, and then continue with today's issues (and yes, there are issues to discuss...it's been a rough week, and it's only Tuesday).

So....let me think back. Last week was the Open Evening. Basically, the school competes with a bunch of other secondary schools in the county/area, to get parents to send their children there. Competition is apparently pretty stiff, so they really try hard to impress. Interested parents of children currently in year 6 come out for the evening, get schmoozed by the Head Teacher, wander the building with preppy student guides, and watch entertaining presentations put on by the staff. Myself, I got tricked into helping run a giant game of scrabble. It was....interesting, to say the least. Just building the damn thing proved to be a challenge and a half. The string we were given to "map it out" was bloody awful, and the tape in which to stick it down was worse. It just would not stay. Rachel and I kept having to slap it down, as hard as we could, and it almost always bounded back. Eventually, we went to the Science department to get more string, and were magically given a much BETTER, and more co-operative, bundle of string. We ripped out the shit we had laying, and re-did the board with our new magically co-operative string. Then we went about setting out the board pieces, and arranging the letter tiles into piles of seven.

After we had the board set up, we had some time to kill. I wandered into the Orwell Office, and found a bunch of women cutting and pasting book photos and blurbs onto coloured paper. A new display was being constructed, and they asked for my help. I glady did so. I am rather glad I did, because it turned out to be quite funny! Ann, the second head of English, proved herself to be a very funny lady! She had us rolling on the floor laughing. Literally. Putting up the display proved to be a continuation of the good time. Before we knew it, however, it was time to get down to business.

Showtime (and I aptly call it that) approached, and I settled into "Game show host" mood. As children and their parents entered the room, I bombarded them with words of encouragement, trying to entice them into playing the game. A few refused, shyly hiding behind their parents, but most were quite eager to play. In fact, I quickly found that the parents were highly competitive, wanting their kids to get the best score etc. It was a bit daunting, to be honest! I felt bad for a few of the kids, whose parents really pushed them to find "better" words, or to exploit the letters they had. A bit weird to see, that's for sure.

No major problems arose. I met a few of my students parents, as they came in with their younger siblings. It was nice to put faces to names. I had a feeling some of them were rather shocked at my appearance though; I'm not sure if it's my age, or my nose ring, or what, but a few seemed a bit surprised to realize I was "the Miss Carson". "The" indeed. Legendary.

Anyways, the night went off alright. We didn't leave the building until around 9 though, which was a tad horrifying, considering I am there at ten to 8 every day. Ugh. Long long day. Rachel and I ended up joining the Geography boys (who are an hilarious and jovial bunch) for a pint in Fenstanton before going to bed. I slept well that night.

Not a whole lot worth writing about happened between then and now. Aside from the weekend, which started off slow (I went to bed early Friday night), and then ended up being probably the best weekend I've had here so far! I just had a wicked fun time, going out, seeing people, having some drinks, and sharing more than a few laughs. J ended up coming back to mine with me, and we had a pretty fun time together. In the morning, we went out for breakfast, and I waited with him for his bus to come. He was quite cute, and awkwardly affectionate (not awkward in a bad way, but awkward as in I could TELL he wanted to be MORE affectionate with me, but he was afraid of scaring me off - he would go to take my hand, then kind of hesitate and pull his hand back etc - it was quite cute). We also made plans to head to Paris together after half term. We're going to get together NEXT Wednesday, at his place after school, to plan it all out for a weekend in November. He said he'd even make me dinner, that night! How adorable is THAT?!

Coming off that weekend, I was really hoping to have a good week. In fact, I kept thinking this week was going to be GREAT, because I have a nice break in the middle (a trip to Birmingham with the Science department on Wednesday). However, it's now only Tuesday, and I already want to shoot myself in the head.

You see, last week the year 9 reports went home. As you should be aware, my year 9 class is a total terror. They constantly push me, and make me question my desire, if not my ABILITY, to teach. In an effort to "shock" them into realizing I mean business, I wasn't exactly nice when I assessed them. In fact, I was tough as nails. I gave a lot of people really crap marks. In my defence, they totally deserved them. Their attitude towards learning (ATL) was total rubbish, and they're kidding themselves if they think otherwise. So I was brutally honest in my reporting, and I think the marks were indeed "shocking" to a number of students.

Yesterday, Leslie came to me at the end of the day, to let me know that three of my year 9 girls had come to see her about the grades I'd given then. I instantly knew exactly who the girls were. When I listed the names to Leslie, she nodded.
"I'm not going to apologize for the grades," I said. "They deserved them."
"I'm not asking you to apologize. I have no doubts they deserved them. I just wanted you to be aware that there is some discontent out there," she said. She smiled at me constantly, so I could tell she was trying not to seem threatening. It was clear she didn't want to scare me, or make me feel that I had been at fault.
We had a rather frank talk about what the problem was. She told me these girls had requested a class change. My heart sunk.
"Here we go," I thought, "My teaching ability is suddenly thrown into question because three stuck up girls are pissed I called them on their own laziness and stupidity".
However, Leslie tried to explain to me that my teaching wasn't being questioned, and that she understood I had a tough "group of characters".
We decided to allow someone to come observe the class in action, this Thursday, to try and figure out strategies. We also are going to work on picking ONE person, one truly disruptive person, to move out of the class. I can think of a few I wouldn't mind giving the ol' heave ho - but that'd be a cheap solution. One I can deal with. I have an idea of who I want switched out, but that too might be TOO easy. We'll leave it up to the moderator.
With that in the process of being resolved, I rested easy Monday night.

Today, I had my year 9s first period. As the students started their slow shuffle into the room, there were murmurs of discontent. This was the first period that I'd had with them, since the reports went home.
"Miss, why did I get a lever 3?" I heard.
Not looking up to acknowledge the speaker, I said, "If you want to discuss grades with me, see me after class."
"Miss, why did I get a level TWO?!" I heard a high pitched, and extremely whiny girl ask.
I turned, looked over her head at the clock, and said, "Come see me after class, to discuss your mark."
She huffed at me, and refused to move.
"No. I don't deserve this mark. My mum is going to go bananas when she sees this..." she started.
"Sit down. This is not the appropriate place to discuss this," I said calmly to her.
She scowled at me, then marked to her seat. The entire way there she was bitching and complain about how she'd been given an "unfair" mark.
I rolled my eyes.
Instantly, comments started being hurled around the room.
"Yah, well I got a 3."
"HE got a 3?!? THATS NOT FAIR!"
"Oh yah, well I got a two as well. I've NEVER got a two before...."
I could feel myself losing them, so I shouted at them to do the Word Challenge on the board, and to stop talking about grades.
"If you want to talk about grades, do so individually after class with me," I said.
I was met with grumbles. The hatred for me was very evident, throughout the entire classroom.
Bubbles of discontent quickly surfaced again, and before I could stop it, I was being bombarded with comments about how "unfair" I was, and how "we haven't done anything to warrant these marks".
The worst, however, was when one of the girls smugly shouted, "Yah, well I'M SWITCHING ENGLISH CLASSES!"
The rest of the class turned to look at her. She smiled, smug at having won the entire class over for the moment.
Eruptions of agreement spilled forth.
Devastated at the mob mentality that was being directed at me, I felt myself wilt a little. I must admit, I started to doubt my abilities to teach very much. With 28 eyes turned to me, watching for my next move, I knew that now was not the time to collapse.
Instead, I threw my shoulders back and calmly said, "No one will be switching classes. You can't run away from your problems that easily. If you got a bad mark, it's the mark you deserved to get. I don't give good or bad marks. You earn them."
This shut them up for a moment, as they pondered the meaning of what I'd said.
A few rumbles started up at the back, but with a cold stare, I quickly quieted those.
I prompted them back to the Word Challenge, and tried to carry on with the lesson.

We headed to the PC lab for the majority of the class, and kids seemed to be working fairly well.
There was still some animosity amongst some of the girls, but I tried to brush it off with a firm but fair touch. I felt the end of the period went relatively well, and I tried very hard not to let their stinging criticism of my teaching at the start of the lesson get to me. However, at the end, I was given a rather sound slap on the face, by one of the quieter girls in my class.

All the other students had left the room in a noisy mass of swirling chaos. This last girl was slowly and deliberately putting her books into her bag. As she walked past me on her way to the door, she half turned and said, "I'm going to get out of this class."
"Excuse me? Why?" I asked, genuinely shocked.
"Because I can't work with the people in this class. We never get anything done," she said coldly.
"Yes we do," I said. "And besides, if anyone moves, it won't be you...."
"We'll see about that," she said, haughtily, as she strolled out the door.

I stared looking after her for a good thirty seconds. Maybe it was a culmination of everyone else's badgering, or maybe it was something else...whatever it was, her comments to me, seemingly out of the blue (I'd given her a decent mark), struck me harder than anyone elses.

I could understand the "bad" ones wanting out. Students like that will never take responsibility for their actions. They will always blame someone else for their shortcomings. The easiest person to blame right now is me, and so they are. I can deal wit that. I can brush that off. But to have one of the "good" ones slam me....well that was something else entirely. It really made me question my own abilities. Can I handle this class? Is it THAT bad?! Some days I think it is, and others I don't. I do take responsibility for some of the things that happen (or fail to happen) in my class...but I refuse to take responsibility for everything. If you get a bad mix of kids, it's really hard to get them to perform the way you want them to. At least, it is when you are as green a teacher as me. I will always admit to my shortcomings, and my "newbness" is a very large one. I often have no idea what I am doing, and find that usually my instincts are right. However, with this class, I feel like it's hit and miss. They don't trust me. They don't respect me. They plain don't like me. I cannot, no matter how hard I try, get them to be the class I KNOW they can be. It's very frustrating.

I can only hope that the monitoring I get on Thursday will help me figure out what to do. I'd hate to think that I'm failing at teaching....but right now, it sometimes feels that way (at least with this ONE class).

That said, it IS only one of my six classes. I don't think I am doing bad with my other classes at all. It is just my 9s that are totally out of control, and I have no idea how to rein them in. But I'm willing and able to learn.

But anyways...I really don't want to bitch and moan all the time in here. That was never my intention.

Tomorrow I am going with the year 9s (the entire year) to Birmingham, to what is called the "Think Tank". It's some sort of science museum, or something, if I understand all the e-mails right. I am mighty excited to be able to visit a new part of England "on the company dime".

More to come on that later though. Counting down the days till the weekend!! (Which should, if all predictions come true, be even better than the last). The staff Curry Club (which is really just an excuse to eat and drink together) has their first meeting of the year on Friday. J's already asked me to come stay at his after the Curry Club, so a slumber party is already in effect. Saturday night one of the Geo boys, Tom, has his birthday party in Fenstanton, which is only about 5 mins outside St. Ives. I know J is going, and I'm 100% certain he will be coming back and crashing at mine. It's only logical. :) It's going to be RIGHT FUN!

Cheers!

On Confusing Myself More Than Anything

So in my "PG" blog I wrote the following today:

I was "this" close to spilling a major can of beans in here tonight. However, I wised up, and realized it's best for me to take the high road, and let people move on with their lives. I've been grasping at straws for awhile now (or at least, it sometimes feels that way), and I've started to think that maybe it's about time I stopped. It won't be easy, if I decide to do it, but I think maybe it's the right thing to do. Then again, I don't know. I'm a bit conflicted about the whole thing. You know how sometimes people say you just "know" about certain things? How some things happen easily for a reason? It all falls into place? Part of me wants to just trust that feeling, and keep doing what I was doing. Another part of me thinks it's a bit futile, and insanely naive, and it's expecting a LOT. Not just from myself, but from other people too. Then again, I know what I'm willing to do...and it doesn't bother me. I can't really know what other people are thinking though...and there lies the rub. Maybe if I wasn't such a pussy, I could be more vocal about this. But again, I've never been one to verbalize when I need help. I'm a stubborn old soul, who refuses to let people see the weaker side of me. I've got a persona to uphold, after all! (Actually, who am I kidding? Everyone knows me as the soft, sweet, big mouthed girl from Tillsonburg...no bad ass persona here). Do you fight the feeling, or do you let yourself be caught up in it? I don't think there's an answer for that question. It's like asking what came first; the chicken or the egg. Or whatever else people say. Bah. THIS IS SO HARD! I know what I want, and I know what it takes to get it, but it takes a lot; A lot of different things, from different avenues of my being. Nothing I can't afford though...now, then, before, whenever. I know I'm talking in circles here, and being ridiculously vague. Obviously I'm doing that for a reason. I don't really want people to (mis)interpret my meaning. Or at least, certain people. Or persons. Or person. Whatever. Decipher what you will from that.

It doesn't really matter what I decide here, or anywhere else. I can say all I want that I'll try to quit this thing, but it won't happen. It's like that Rihanna song....I'd have to check into rehab for it, and it just wouldn't work. I'm irrevocably hooked, no matter how hard I try to disengage myself.

Oh, and case you were starting to get worried. It's not drugs. Unless you count alcohol, in which case, yes, it's drugs. (I'm joking).

-------

In this blog, I can run through the hidden meaning in the posting. I was trying to be evasive, because I wanted to vent, but I didn't want everyone to know what I was talking about. Obviously I could have just vented here, without venting even a little in the PG blog...however, I know a lot of people read the other blog, and I think they'd like to see a more personal post from me; something that wasn't just about teaching. So I posted it.

But here, I can be real. Obviously I'm talking about my feelings for Trevor. My sister messaged me today, and made me feel really shitty about what I'm doing to myself over Trevor. She basically pointed out that I was being completely naieve about the whole situation.
"You have to remember he's four years younger than you. He might not want what you want," she wrote.
I didn't want to believe her a the time, but as I thought more about it, it started ot kind of become true. Obviously when I go back home, my plan at the moment is to fight tooth and nail to get him. To make him mine, to be with him. I want to be with him so badly, it's ridiculous. I think about him on a daily basis. He's the last person I talk to before I go to bed, most nights. I have surprisingly strong feelings for him. I say surprising, because I haven't seen him in over a month now, and I still feel as strongly as I did the last day I spent with him. Talking to him, daily, only makes me feel more sure about my feelings. He just constantly reinforces how amazing he is, every time I talk to him. He's something else...I dunno. I can't stop thinking about how I felt when I first saw him, or when I first kissed him, or when we ... god, sorry, I hate to be an awkward asshole here ... had sex. It was all just so GOOD. There was passion, and tenderness, and everything you'd want. I dunno. Frig. It was all so good. And it all happened so fast...but it felt really natural, and right. More than anything I've experienced before.

Christine told me she thinks he wants to be with me when I return. Sheena tells me he probably won't. I'm telling myself I want it, and if I want it, I seem to think I will get it. I don't know who or what to really believe. I want SO badly for my feelings to be right, for once. I want so badly to give in, and trust my gut on this one. But I also am now afraid I'm wasting my time, my life, my love. I just don't know what to do.

In all honesty, I'm not worried about him being with other girls when I'm gone. I know I will be with other GUYS in this interlude. I'm not going to become a NUN while wait until I return home. Hell, I've already for J waiting in the wings, and he is MORE than ready to sweep me off my feet, for the time being. And I'm more than willing to let him. He's a very sweet guy. As such, I'm sure Trevor will find his "J". His girl to distract him. I just hope he doesn't find his "right girl". What I hope will be me. And maybe that's where I am being naieve. I don't even know how Trevor feels about me. I don't seem to care. I have this insane confidence about the whole situation....and perhaps that's stupid. Maybe he's not the nice guy I think he is. Maybe he is very good at playing me. Who knows. I don't think that's the case, though.

And, like I said in my PG blog, no matter how hard I try to convince myself into quitting him, reducing my conversations with him, it won't happen. I can't do it. I can't not talk to him. I look forward to it, nightly. It's hard enough for me to go one night, and purposely NOT talk to him (which I do, often, to try to show myself I'm not as hopelessly in love with him as I think I am).

But anyways, I'm rambled on long enough. I should either do some work or go to bed.

Cheers.

On the Worst Day EVER

The following was originally written October 1st:

So today was quite possibly the worst day of my entire life. I don't feel like rehashing the details right now, because it will just make me upset, but I will anyways. Long story short, I ended up being very very stern with my lower ability year 11s today, for constantly "taking the mick out of me". In other words, they've been pushing my buttons for five weeks now, and I've had enough. I've been trying SO hard with this group, and getting mediocre results back. I even changed the seating plan of my room, which affects EVERY OTHER class I have, in order to better accommodate these kids. I have a large central table, that I have the 16 students sit around. I then work with them on THEIR level, talking them through tasks, and getting them to do it as a group. If I left them to do the tasks individually, only a few of the slightly higher ability ones would complete it. The others would need constant supervision. This way, I can supervise them all, and get the work done. Well....today, I had a group of girls refuse to join the table. They wanted to work on their own. I said that was fine, as long as they stayed on top of the work, and weren't off task.

Well, I quickly noticed that they were not talking about the poetry I had assigned. Far from it. I called them on their behaviour, only to meet rolled eyes and sighs. I told them they should join the main table again, to stay on task, but they refused. Not wanting to ruin the learning the others were doing, I set back to the task at hand.

Again, their talking caught my attention, and again I chastised them. This time they started to argue back, saying that they were trying to listen to me, but the talking of some boys at my table was preventing them from hearing. They said I was being unfair, picking on them for talking, when people at my table were talking too. I told them I wasn't being unfair, and if they wanted to hear what I was saying, they should join the table.

They then launched into a tirade about how I was "alienating" them from the lesson, by not including them. I calmly stated back that they had CHOSEN to sit separately from the majority of the class, and that I had ENTRUSTED them to stay on task as a result.

"Maybe it's best if you move over here," I said.
"NO!" they shouted back at me. "We're fine here, just make everyone else stop talking, not just us."
The guys at the main table started to argue back at this point, and soon it was a shouting match between the group at the main table, and these girls off to the side. I tried to interject, but to no avail. They either couldn't hear me over their own shouting, or they chose not to. I sat there, dumbfounded for a moment, staring at the TA. She looked helplessly at me.

Then I stood up.
"THAT'S ENOUGH!" I shouted.
"I've had ENOUGH of this! I am NOT going to let this class get out of control ANYMORE! This is absolutely CHAOTIC! There is NO reason for this! I am so sick of you guys constantly talking, arguing, fighting, and NOT DOING THE WORK. I'm TRYING to help you do this! I am TRYING to make sure that you all have a solid grasp over this content! You CANNOT hope to get a passing mark on the coursework, if you constantly talk over me, and shout at each other!"
One of the girls opened her mouth, to say something back at me. Her eyes flashed angrily at me.
"NO! Don't say anything. I don't want to hear you say ANYTHING right now. I'm talking, and I'm sick of you all trying to talk over me. This is MY classroom, not yours."
One of the boys at my table snickered. This caused the three girls to the side to snicker as well.
I stared at them, steely eyed.
"I fail to see what is so funny. This is your future. If you want to sabatoge it, that's pretty damn pathetic," I said, the anger dripping heavily from my voice.

The boys at my table stared at me, their mouths hanging open. They'd never seen me angry before. I think they thought I was a bit of a pushover. Part of the problem, I suppose.

The girls, however, were not impressed. They saw my anger as a call to arms. They started to shout back, saying I was "unfairly" picking on them, and that I was alienating them from learning by allowing others to talk, but not them. Again they tried to say that I forced them away from the main group. I rolled my eyes at them, ready to defend myself, but deciding against it.
"I'm not going to argue with you. I don't have to," I said.

At this point, the TA piped in, saying that I had, in fact, invited them repeatedly to join us, but that they'd refused. She said I couldn't drag them to the table. She was right. I couldn't...though next lesson I will.

Again, I had to strongly reiterate the fact that THEY had chosen to exclude THEMSELVES, and that I couldn't be expected to MAKE them want to learn. I took all the blame they were placing on me, and put it squarely on their shoulders, where it rightfully belonged. My voice remained calm and cold, collected to a T. Inside, I was shaking though. Shaking with anger and pent up resentment, not just at the girls in particular,but at everyone in the class. Everyone who was constantly pushing my buttons, seeing how far they could go.

At this point one of the girls, the most vocal one, stood up.
"I WON'T work in here with YOU," she spat at me.
I stared at her, not saying a word. I don't know how I looked, but I felt utterly and totally bad ass; I hope my face projected my own apathy back at her. She stormed out, saying she was going to her House Office.

The TA looked at me, and I sat, unmoving. Every head in the classroom was turned to me, expectantly. I simply sat there, staring at the remaining two girls, daring them to get up and do the same.
"Do you want me to go after her?" she asked.
"Yes please," I said, calmly.
"You can't use this as an excuse to get out of a lesson..." the TA mumbled under her breath as she walked out of the room.
No one watched her go. Everyone remained fixated on me.
I picked up the poem we were working on, and continued on with it. I've never heard my voice sound so hollow and cold before. It was eerie even to me.
The students were quiet, not saying a word. I asked a question. Repeated it. Finally one of the girls at the main table answered, and some sort of normalcy returned.
When the TA returned, she shrugged at me, and went over to talk to the remaining two girls off to the side. I plowed on with my poem.
I didn't notice until the end of class that one of the girls had started to cry, while talking to the TA. When everyone had cleared the room, I approached her, and asked her what had happened.
"I think they weren't used to you pushing back. I think it shocked them. You put them in their place, and ruined their argument, and the only thing they had left to do was cry," she said.
"I don't think I did anything wrong..." I said, rather sheepishly.
"Oh no, you didn't," she said. "In fact, I don't know HOW you managed to stay so calm and collected. I mean, you were angry, that was obvious, but... it wasn't out of control. It was poised..."
"I don't know what to do to make these kids do the work..." I said.
"Honestly, you're doing more than I've seen anyone else do with them. I think the seating arrangement is ingenious. It works. These kids need someone on them, all the time."
She suggested that I re-arrange the boys in the class, to break up their ability to talk. I agreed.
Tomorrow I have the class again, and I'm going to try out the new arrangement. We'll see if it helps. I'm also going to demand that everyone sit at the main tables with me and the TA. We're going to get through this together, or not at all.

Still, once the TA left the room, I felt everything from the period rush back at me. The raw emotion of the girls, the awkwardness from the rest of the class, my own frustration and anger, everything. I sat in my desk, put my head in my hands, and cried for a good 5 minutes. I am so glad no one walked in. I had my door wide open, and it was entirely possible. If anyone had seen me looking like that, I don't know what I would have done. Likely they would have asked what was wrong, and I would have then broken down into a sobbing, sniffling mess. I don't want anyone in the department to see me cry....I am already afraid that they think I'm "green". Crying would only add to the pile of things that are potentially wrong with me.

I wiped my face dry with my scarf, and spent the rest of my free period trying to compose myself enough for the staff meeting that followed after school. It wasn't easy, but I think I managed it.

Regardless, I am still left feeling like shit. I can't concentrate enough tonight to plan, or do anything productive. Luckily for me, Heroes is on in twenty minutes, and I can watch that, veg out, and then go to bed.

My fingers are crossed that tomorrow brings a better day. If it's another bad one, like the last few........well.....lord help me....

On Apathetic Students

Well, I can officially say that the students have eaten my soul. Presently, I think they are digesting it, and are soon to pass it through their intestinal tract. Yes. I am going to be crapped out by my students, in due course.

That's how I feel, anyways; like absolute crap. I honestly have never, in my rather short teaching career (and this is factoring in all my practicum junk, and volunteer work I've done), experienced MULTIPLE classes of lazy, unimaginative, uninventive, uncaring students. I'm really doubting that this is JUST a coincidence either. I can't possibly have the only four classes of apathetic students. From what I've heard from other teachers, its a British phenomenon. It is appalling. I think I've explained before, briefly, about "coursework" over here. In case I haven't, I will give you a briefing; students are graded (in Years 10 and 11) based solely on coursework that they submit to an examination board, as well as a few written exams (the GCSEs). Teachers can assign the coursework, and mark drafts of it, but ultimately the final grades are not in their hands. I guess they think that students will be marked on more of a national scale if it's done by an "arbitrary" board of people, instead of "biased" teachers. There is, perhaps, SOME validity in this. However, I still remain skeptical. Anyways, Key Stage 4 (KS4) students are WELL aware of the fact that only the coursework and the exams matter. As such, any homework you assign in class is deemed as "useless", since it's not marked for anything that "matters". This is highly annoying, because I don't assign things unless they matter. Everything serves a greater purpose! I only assign work as a way to BUILD skills that they will need for the coursework or exam. When I try to explain this to the students, they shrug their shoulders, and tell me they'd rather take their chances, and not complete the homework. Of all the assignments I've given, only a select few have completed it all. These students are wonderful; I know they UNDERSTAND that it only aids them in the end. I wish them nothing but success, because they're well rounded, intelligent individuals. The majority of their classmates, however, are rude, ignorant wankers. It frustrates me to no end, that no matter HOW hard I try, they simply do not care.

While I take their indifference personally, I also think they're doing a HUGE disservice to THEMSELVES. I could honestly care less about their lack of respect for ME...it's the lack of respect that they are showing themselves and each other that REALLY gets to me. It's as if their greatest ambition in life is to get through doing the bare minimum; as if they aspire to go nowhere. Their lack of ambition is so frustrating. If I have ever spoken badly about children in Ontario, and their lack of commitment to education, I take it all back. Ontario has it right, in so many ways. Our children aren't nearly has apathetic as British children. I don't know if it's a cultural thing, or what. Frankly, I am very very surprised that more British people my age and older aren't complete assholes. The way their children act, you'd think they'd have learnt it from SOMEONE. Is laziness going to be the next big problem over here? With the current credit crunch, and layoffs, I wouldn't be surprised. At a time when people SHOULD be taking their education seriously, in order to avoid the financial pitfalls that seem apparent, it's even more heartbreaking to see the stance these children take to their education.

I've always said I've believed in lifelong learning. I fail to see how these students will ever catch the lifelong learning "bug". They can't even be bothered to learn NOW, let along on their own in the future.

It's literally crushing my desire to teach. I know. How bad is that?! Back home I had such passion for what I did. I LOVED teaching....here, I find that no matter HOW I try to switch up my lessons, they fall across closed minds. Nothing works. At least, not with my KS4 set. They stare at me with scorn in their eyes, and chatter away as if I wasn't even there. No matter how I try to pull them into the lessons, they constantly ignore me, or disrespect me. At the end of ever lesson with them, I feel drained of all my energy. They make me feel about as big as a flea, and just as effective. It's very depressing. I don't think there's been a day this week that I haven't had to fight back tears, after dealing with my 9s, 10s, and 11s. It takes everything in me to suck it up, and try again with the next class. I do it, but it's very very hard.

That said, my year 8s are everything I could have ever asked for. They get excited with my lessons, they produce excellent results, they partake in discussion.....I can only HOPE and PRAY that when they go into Year 9 they don't instantly change into the unmotivated 9s, 10s, and 11s that I have now. That would be enough to make me cry.

It helps that weekends I can unwind, and get drunk. I know that sounds really really bad, but honestly if I didn't have that vice, that break, that release, I would go insane. I'm not even ashamed to admit that every weekend I feel a VERY strong desire to get lost in the bubbly, happy feeling that accompanies booze. Don't get me wrong though. I don't drink to the point of stupidity. I just drink until everything is funny. Until I can forget how miserable my teaching life can be. I hope it gets better, because honestly, it's starting to really break me down. Maybe I need another release. Who the hell knows. Half term is coming up, that may help. A week to just unwind, in Scotland (or so goes the plan). A hug would also help. I think I've gone pretty much a full month, plus some, without any solid human contact. We could all use some affection, now and again! Just makes you feel nice!

What I wouldn't give to pick up my Gaber-baber (my kitty, Gabriel), and bury my nose in the soft fuzziness on the top of his head. Even just THAT would make me feel a million times better. Amazing how the littlest things can bring you comfort...

But anyways...I didn't really intend for this to be a bitch-fest, though that's clearly what it has become. I'm not absolutely miserable here. Please don't misinterpret what I'm saying. There are many moments, even during teaching (though mostly with my year 8s), that I truly consider myself lucky. Walking to the bank this afternoon, I was struck with the most profound sense of happiness, it it was solely because I realised I was a) in bloody England and b) I feel at home. So....things aren't all bad. I finally feel comfortable in England. I'm not as horribly home sick as I initially was (though I do miss a lot of people...some in particular more than I thought that I would....there are some I think about daily, which surprises me a LOT). Time is also flying by, which is nice...and also scary.

I should get back to work though, I've spent far too much time on this tonight.

Cheers.

On The Monday Blahs

I've got what appears to be a cold. I woke up with a sore throat and sniffles Saturday morning. At first I thought the sore throat was from....don't kill me, parents....having a few cigs Friday night, but as the day wore on, I realized it was a tad too persistent to be my body punishing me for a drunken decision. I also started to get a little sniffly. Sunday it only got worse. It felt like I'd been awake all night, when really I went to bed at a decent hour. I was so exhausted, visions of having mono all those moons ago (so many moons, BAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA) came rushing back to me. It was, and is, terribly unpleasant. I woke up this morning feeling totally knackered, and wanted desperately to go back to bed. However, I forced myself to get up, telling myself it would get better as the day wore on.

Luckily for me, it did get better. I only had to blow my nose a few times during the day. It's always rough when you're teaching, and all you want to do is blow your nose every five seconds. Despite not feeling as bad as I thought I could, I still hated the day. I was in a grumpy mood, for no particular reason, and the kids were being royal pains in the asses. Usually they're pretty subdued on Mondays, because they've just got done with the weekend, and they're all partied out, or whatever else it is they do in England.

Not today though, they couldn't stop talking. I had to use my "stern voice" in all four of my classes today. I knew it was going to be a bad day, when I had to lecture my year 10s on not talking while I was talking...I had to raise my voice within the first ten minutes of the day, and that's never a good thing. I instantly felt drained. I am not good at projecting my voice at pitches higher than a moderate talk. This doesn't fly in the classroom, when you're competing with 30 other voices, most of which have way more energy than you do. I told them that it was "far too early" for me to have to raise my voice, which only got a few snickers. Eventually I got them to settle down, but when I distributed the task, no one seemed interested in doing it. They just continued shooting the shit with each other.

Frustrated, I told them that it was a shame they weren't taking the work seriously, since the play (Twelfth Night) going to require some coursework from them later. This caught their attention slightly, so they worked for about 5 minutes, and then started chattering away again. Inside I wanted to scream at them, but outwardly I just composed myself, and hammered away at the lesson. Eventually people started to notice me talking, and they shushed each other.

Regardless, it was a rough start, and I wasn't too keen on continuing the day in the same fashion.

My lower ability 11s weren't much better. It's hard to get work out of them on a good day, and today was definitely not a good day. One of the girls started to cry while working on a handout on similes. I went over, to see what was wrong, but she wouldn't talk to me, and asked to use the toilet. I let her go, because sometimes we just like to be alone...and besides, why would a 15 year old girl want to talk to ME about her problems? When she was gone, one of the boys told me that she was "hungover". I told him I didn't want to know these things.
"It's true though," one of the other girls said.
"Regardless, that's none of my concern, and it's not yours either. Stay on task," I said.

They worked for awhile, and then the boys at the back of the room started on me again about Canada. It's endlessly amusing to them, to grill me about the differences between Canada and England. No matter how much I try to ignore them, and keep them on task, they always succeed in pulling me into the conversation. Lucky for them, I find most of them to be pleasant individuals, so I really only half-try to ignore their inquisitiveness. They asked me if I knew any British swears. I told them that was inappropriate....but added that I actually had learned about an unintentional swear this weekend....the whole "two fingers" thing, that's the equivalent of giving people the middle finger. It's just the peace sign in Canada. I've made that mistake many a time....and I'm sure offended many people in the process. I just really had no idea.

Then they tried to ask me about "American football". Unfortunately, I'm not a fan of either form of football, so they didn't get much out of me in that regard. I told them I enjoyed hockey, but they didn't seem to care about that. They don't know much about "ice" hockey here. Ugh. I hate calling it that. It seems redundant.

Anyways, they tried to ask me a few other stupid things, but I wouldn't answer them. Then they tried to get personal with me, and ask me if I had a boyfriend.
"Okay, honestly! Do you REALLY care? I mean REALLY!? Let's not talk about this!" I said, trying not to laugh.
In high school, I couldn't have cared LESS what my teachers did in their private time. I certainly never asked them if they had a boyfriend/girlfriend. That wasn't my business, and I was more concerned with getting one for MYSELF. Sooo bizarre.

Eventually, that class ended, and I had my wonderfully angelic year 8s. They're just the cutest, sweetest kids in the world. They do whatever I ask them to do, and they put soooo much effort into it! It really boggles my mind, to think about how my current year 9s could have EVER been like that. I honestly wonder if they were...I can't really make the connection. I just hope that my year 8s will go into year 9 and remain as committed and polite as they are now. Somehow I have my doubts about this though. It seems to me that something "clicks" when kids go into year 9....regardless of where in the world they are. Year 9s, the world around, are hormonal, crazy, rebellious monkeys.

I ended with my higher level 11s. They're usually a pretty good bunch, but today they were a bit off the wall. I also got a LOT of attitude from a pair of them (one student who is supposed to be a Sports Captain dealy....he wears a prestigious 'black shirt'). He was so snarly to me, I thought he'd bite. The girl he was sitting beside was also quite vicious today. I assigned some group work, and split them up, and they tried to fight me on it. They questioned where I had moved them, and feigned ignorance when I confronted them on their failure to follow direction. It was a bit amusing, because the girls around them were listening, and when the snarky girl tried to question what I was asking of her they giggled and said "What's NOT to understand about what she's telling you!? Are you not LISTENING?!"
I had wanted to say the same thing to the girl, but felt it would have been slightly unprofessional for me to do so. But honestly, I wasn't really sure what she didn't understand. I had asked her to move, so she could join a different group, and she kept questioning what I expected of her.
After the other girls chastised her, she rolled her eyes and moved. The guy stalled a bit, but finally went and joined a group of guys.

The whole rest of the class, the girl and the guy averted their eyes every time I joined their group to facilitate their discussion. It was so annoying! Ah well, they're still growing young people, who have a bunch of crazy emotions rolling around in their over-stimulated hormonal heads. I don't envy them at all.

I also think one of the boys in that class got dumped, because he was sulky all class. I also found a note, at the end of the day, that said "Dear ____, You're awesome, don't be sad!"
Seems like something you'd say to someone who got dumped. Or perhaps not. Regardless, I'll keep an eye on him next lesson, just to see.

Anyways, the day's over, and I am quite happy. This week should be an easy one for me. I don't have to teach Wednesday afternoon, because I have a workshop to attend in St. Ives for new teachers. Friday is the Sponsored Walk (kind of like Canada's Terry Fox fun. The kids raise funds for charity/the school though, instead of for Cancer research). It's an all day event, so that should be pretty great! I am just happy that it's an easy day before my BIRTHDAY WEEKEND! Plans are still in the making for that, but I certainly hope it's a fun time. I bought a wicked new Ted Baker dress, and I plan to dress to impress. Who knows, maybe I'll get my flirt on. See what I have time for, ha ha ha! Jokes, jokes.

On that note, I should add that I DID get e-mailed from J today. I definitely think he's interested. If he's not, then he's overly friendly. That could be the case too. I am often wrong at these sorts of things. Who the heck knows...guess I will just have to wait and find out.

Well, I should be off now. I am deathly tired (it's 9:30), and should hit the sheets.

Cheers, darlings.

On Finally Getting a Social Life!

Well, it's finally, after a month in this country, happened for me! I finally have the beginnings of a social life! I am overjoyed at the prospect of not spending ever weekend alone now! Hurray! Friday morning I got an e-mail from the only other Canadian on staff at the school, welcoming me and hastily inviting me to join a few staff members for a drink in Cambridge that night. I welcomed the idea, and so arrangements were discussed. I ended up catching a bus into Cambridge at 8pm. I had my iPod with me, so I jammed to some tunes while on the bus, and tried to take in the nighttime scenery.

As we got closer to City Centre, I had my eyes peeled for the pub we were supposed to meet at. It was called the Baron of Beef. Sounds classy, right? Eventually I spotted it coming up on the right. Not wanting to have to try to navigate myself back to the pub, I hastily made my way to the front of the bus, and asked the driver if I could possibly get out at the next corner. He gladly stopped the bus, and let me off. Overjoyed at my luck, I walked over to the door to the bar. Before opening the door, I was hit with a few nervous flutters, but I brushed them aside, and opened the door.

Immediately to the right, filling the whole front section of the pub, was a lively group of staff members. Introductions were made, as I wasn't acquainted with many of them, and then I grabbed a pint and settled in for the evening.
I must admit, it was a very very fun evening! I had a total blast, getting to know some of the other staff members. They're all such friendly people, and we had a really good time just chatting, joking, and laughing. Hopefully I make some lasting friendships out of the bunch! I certainly had fun, and I hope more outings occur in the near future!

A few notable things happened in the evening, the funniest being when an unfortunate British fellow puked EVERYWHERE, both inside and outside the bar. I was outside with two of the lovely female teachers, when suddenly a young man stumbled out of the bar, doubled over, and vomited on the pavement. Disgusted, the three of us instantly stepped back. A little of his sick splattered on my shoe.
"SICK!" we shouted, collectively.
"Time to go home, mate," I said to the back of his head.
People walking by heckled him as well, pointing to his vomit and commenting on how gross it was. It was really quite chunky. Looked like Pad Thai, or something.

He stayed hunkered down, with his head between his legs, for a good five minutes not doing anything. I could hear our group inside laughing at the bloke. It was rather funny, I suppose. It's not often you see someone stumble out of the bar at 12:30 in Canada, retching everywhere. The British are absolute lushes. Finally, the guy righted himself, and tried to take a few steps. He was clearly hammered, and couldn't even stand straight without wobbling around, this way and that. He made to go back in the front door, but found it was locked against him.
"Guess we gotta go around the side. Do you have any mates in there?!" one of my colleagues asked him. He mumbled something, with a stupid drunken grin on his face. The three of us headed back inside, and the drunk guy stumbled after us.

We were greeted at the door by the owner, a woman in her late 40s, at least.
"Did you get sick on my floor!?" she demanded of us.
"No, it was that guy," I said, pointing to the guy who was following us in.
"You couldn't make it to the bathroom?! You had to be sick all over my pub?!" she said, angrily.
Giggling, the three of us hurried back to our seats. I had to sidestep a pile of puke on the floor. Apparently he had stumbled to the door, threw up in front of it, opened the door, threw up in the breezeway, and THEN had stumbled outside. That's when we'd seen him puke on the pavement.
Everyone at the table laughed at us, saying it had been hilarious to watch us all jump back instantly when he'd come out. I drunkenly grumbled about my shoes, though lucky for me not a lot had gotten on me.

The owner made the guy help her clean up his mess though, which was poetic justice. You rarely see that in Canada. Unless, of course, you're Mike Holcolm, and you've puked down the stairs at the Mug. Ha ha ha! Oh that story never fails to crack me up.

I also should mention that this week, during staff meetings, I'd started to kind of notice one of the other staff memebers; a younger guy, who was, I later found out, from New Zealand. I kind of developed a teeny crush on him, just talking to him briefly at the meetings.

I also found out that he was the tutor (newly appointed) of one of my "bad" students, Jimmy. I didn't have to make up an reason to e-mail him about Jimmy, since he has a serious problem NOT making fart noises with his mouth. I shot off a quick e-mail, just asking him to speak to Jimmy about proper vs. improper behaviour in class. He e-mailed me back, saying he'd talk to him for me, and then wished me a good weekend, complete with a smilie face emoticon. Solid. Good sign.

Then, when I got invited out, I secretly hoped he'd be in attendance. I was quite pleased when he WAS out, and I secretly endevoured to have a solid conversation with him. The only problem was, that as the night progressed, I got the impression that another of the young ladies on staff (she's the same age as me, actually) also had a crush on him. You know how you can read people's body language? Well, I noticed them up at the bar, ordering drinks, and she was very clearly attempting to lean into him. She was doing all the usual things, that signal to me that a woman is interested in a man. I wasn't sure how to read his response to her, but I knew this could get messy. She is SUPER nice, and we had chatted a lot earlier in the evening. I definitely think we could become pretty good friends, as we're the same age and seem to have a similar personality. I like her a lot, so I really hoped that perhaps I was misreading her interest in J.

Eventually, I did get to have a few decent conversations with him. I tried my best to show a little bit of interest in him, but not too much. I was flirty, but not over the top. I don't want to come across as THAT girl, to anyone on the staff. Slowly, as the night progressed, people started to trickle out. Eventually it was just the three of us, Laura, J and myself.

I ended up missing the bus back, because I just didn't keep track of the time well enough. I was a bit inebriated, and was going to call a cab back to St. Ives. I was convinced this wasn't a good idea though, and a place to crash for the night was offered to me. I gladly accepted. On the way back I also requested, as per usual, some food. They asked me what I wanted, and I drunkenly shouted "poutine!"
Of course, you can't get that in England, so instead I said I would settle for some chips, and perhaps a burger. We caught a cab, went to a little takeaway place, and I ordered a cheeseburger and fries. It was bloody brilliant. Really hit the spot! I can honestly say it was the best burger I've had yet in England. Maybe it was the booze, or maybe it was something else, but it was freaking great. I scarfed it down super fast, hardly pausing to breath. Food comes first! The three of us headed to Js, were he popped in a movie and we kind of vegged. Laura was sitting next to him on the couch, and was leaning on his arm, with her head on his shoulder. I decided that my initial hunch had been correct. She was very much trying to show that she was interested in him, so I decided to back off. I don't want to burn bridges.

I was pretty hammered, so I started to fall asleep on the couch. At this point, J asked me if I wanted to sleep on the couch or on a blow up mattress. I gladly opted for the blow up.
"Okay, its in my room," he said.
Ooooooo! I thought.

We headed upstairs, leaving Laura passed out on the couch, bless her. I pumped up the mattress with my foot, J got me a sleeping bag, and I settled in for the duration. It was really cold though (this is the honest truth, I was FREEZING), so J told me to bring the sleepingbag onto his bed, and then I could share his blanket. It was totally PG. I really did stay in my sleeping bag, and he just tossed his blanket over me as well. We joked around a bit, had a pillow fight, and then went to sleep. Nothing happened at all, honest. I wouldnt have let it, regardless. When people you work with are involved, you have to be SUPER careful. I don't want to have stories about me started ALREADY! I am just hoping that Laura dosen't get mad, or think something happened between us. Nothing happened, it was legit, 100%.

I don't think she's mad though, as she texted me this afternoon, and seemed fine!

Anyways, when I drink I always find I sleep terribly, so I didn't have the best sleep, but ah well! It woulda been the same regardless of where I was in the world! In the morning, I had to leave super early, as I wanted to make it to the post office in St. Ives before it closed at 11:30. I caught a bus home, and made it to the post office at around 10. I was thinking it was going to be one of the packages from my Mum, but it was the one Meaghan sent me! I was super excited to see what she'd sent, so I didn't waste time opening it. I started walking down the street, ripping the envelope open. Inside was a really adorable card, a very handy book on British slang (I will def. use it against the students, mwha) and a hilarious game called Nun Bowling. It's exactly as it sounds....its a bowling game where you have to knock down little nuns. I laughed so hard, I almost peed my pants. I'm not even joking, I thought it was so cute! People probably thought I was nuts.

Since I was downtown St. Ives, I decided to check out some of the local shops. I went into a shoe store, as I am lacking shoes, and ended up buying a cute pair of mary janes, with a bit of a heel. I figured I could wear them mostly for teaching, but they have the ability to be dressed up. I then went into a clothing store, and bought a dress to wear for next weekend (which just happens to be my BIRTHDAY). A few of the staff members had agreed to come out with me, so I want to make sure I'm dressed to kill for my special day!

It was a GORGEOUSLY sunny day, so I took my time walking home. Once there, I decided to do my laundry, since I could hang it out on the line. It was so warm! I was wearing short shorts and a tank top all day, and was perfectly comfortable. I then decided to relax and watch Hot Rod, have a nap, and mostly just enjoy not having to do anything. Like I mentioned, Laura texted me today, and might come into St. Ives tonight. I'm not sure. I am not super keen on going out, but I will! J also texted me, being very friendly, and possibly a little flirty. Yet another good sign, as it shows he had to ask SOMEONE for my number; I didn't give it to him!

All in all, it was a glorious Friday night, and a wonderful Saturday afternoon.

I am looking forward to next weekend. I hope that it's as fun, if not more fun, than last night.

Cheers!!

On Getting Out Of A Slump

If you've talked to me at all this week, prior to this exact moment, then you're likely to agree that I've been a bit of a Debbie Downer lately. I feel I must apologize for this behaviour. I really was in a sour mood, and it wasn't really over anything rational. I was just hating life in general, and blaming it entirely on the country of England. If I try to think rationally about it now, the only excuse I can come up with is that it had rained for about a week and a half straight, with little (if any) sign of the sun. I honestly am not sure if this is the sole factor behind my unseasonably terrible mood, but I have a pretty good feeling it plays a large part in it. Being from Southwestern Ontario, I've grown up in a relatively sunny environment. We do get rain, of course. Everyone needs rain to survive. The farmers are certainly hurting when we have dry summers. That said, we don't have nearly as much rain as I've seen here lately. Although, we DID have a rather wet June, didn't we!? I'm trying to remember back that far, but it's proving quite difficult. I don't think I was moody in June, but then again I can't be certain.

I do know, however, that the rain I am experiencing now is definitely having an effect on me. Not seeing the sun for days on end is probably one of the most subtly depressing things in the world. I don't think we really realize how dependent are moods are on the weather until we move somewhere where the weather is drastically different. I firmly believe that part of my problem with England, at the moment, lies simply in my needing to "acclimatize" to the weather here.

Today was the first sunny day in weeks, and I found I was immensely happy for the majority of the day. It also seemed as if things were looking up for me, on a business level as well. I've been having payroll issues since Friday (my payroll fax never made it through, despite REPEATED attempts to send it). Finally it went through yesterday, but unfortunately it was a day too late. Now I won't get paid this week. I'll have to wait until next week to get my first paycheck. The fact that I was going to miss a week of pay was really stressful to me, and definitely added to my sour mood. I am running low on cash, considering I only brought over a small wad of money to sustain myself until my first pay cheque (which was SUPPOSED to be this Friday). I'm not entirely sure if this means I will get paid twice next week, but for some reason I highly doubt it. I think it just means I will be on a two week delay now, instead of one. Bummer. The only plus side is that it will be good for me when I'm done in June, or when I am holiday (I technically don't get paid for the holidays).

Ah well. I also go things sorted with the bank. I had a prep period last today, and the department meeting was cancelled, so I skipped out of the building about ten minutes early ( I didn't tell anyone, so I hope I don't get in trouble). I felt justified though, since I've had such a rough time getting into the bank this week. If I hadn't made it today, I am pretty sure I would have started crying hysterically outside the bank, while banging my fist on the glass, totally frustrated with the world. Luckily, I made it with a half hour to spare.

I went in to the customer service rep immediately, and explained my situation. She pulled up my file, and said that I had been misinformed, and that everything was nearly complete. I had been told my Visa and Passport still needed to be verified, but bank lady told that wasn't true. She turned the screen towards me, so that I could see. Sure enough, there was a very bold "VERIFIED" next to the question about my Passport. Puzzled, I asked her what the hold up was on my bank card then.
"Ah...we just need a proof of address...for Canada," she said.
"For Canada?! But I'm not living there right now..." I said, even more puzzled.
She then explained that because I was signed up for a temporary "Passport" account, that they wanted my home information. They could get my St. Ives address for my temporary address, but it wasn't my permanent one, so they didn't need verification of it.
I pulled out my drivers licence and asked if that was sufficient.
She smiled, and told me it was perfect.
A few moments later, we had everything sorted. She helped me sign up for Internet banking, told me my debit card was in the mail, and sent me on my way.

I was immensely happy to have solved the problem so easily. Two days of frustration behind me, I walked home in much higher spirits.

Right now, I am currently in possession of two whole hours to myself. I have planned ahead enough to take some time to myself. I am quite glad to be feeling so happy now, as I really was starting to detest the grump that I had become. I still am not 100% happy with life right now, but it's a start. I think the best thing for me to do is make some more friends. That area of my life is certainly laking, and I feel I am missing companionship. I also find myself missing Gabriel a lot, and am really wishing I could get a kitten, or a rat, or mouse, or SOMETHING fluffy to love. The only problem with doing that is that I am leaving in June, and would effectively have to leave the poor animal behind. As such, getting a pet is out of the question. I still hate not having one though...I am a bit of a loser, in that I need to have something to mother in my life. It was Gabriel for two years, and now to not have him, well I definitely feel a bit of a void. I miss his grumpy bum so much! Heh heh.

School is going much better. I still am not sure if I am following the British curriculum very well, but as long as I hit the required coursework that's all that matters. Frankly, I am QUITE surprised that they've stuck me with two year 11 classes. From my limited knowledge of the system, year 11 is a very important year. If I fuck this up, I could potentially fuck up the future of 50 some-odd kids. Oye. That's a load to carry. I don't think I am doing them a disservice right now though...but we shall see. I have been trying to find the course objectives (the end products they want them to be able to produce), and have found them in bits and pieces on the shared drive on the school network. I'm slowly starting to grasp this.

I also have to have some "target grades" put in for my year 10s by next Wednesday. I have to fill a grade quota, which I find really stupid, but I think I've got it done. I will just have the head of English look it over, and then go from there.

I answered my first parent e-mails today. It was quite thrilling, to be honest. It made me feel like a real teacher, for maybe the first time since the very first day. I felt so authoritative!! I also gave my first detentions the other day, to my wild bunch of year 9s. They still are not responding to my attempts to tame them. They did, however, calm down considerably after they saw that I WOULD give detentions. Tomorrow I have them last period (and on my FULL day...5 courses in a row, with only 15 minutes for lunch). I pray I make it through the day! I hate ending the day with the 9s though, because they leave me feeling physically empty. It's amazing what an unruly class will do to you. It's like nothing I've experienced before; you're just frazzled. That's the only word I can use to describe it. Frazzled. Completely spent. Used up.

I may have to issue double digit detentions tomorrow. I need to really crack down on this class. Iknow they are testing me, and I cannot let them win. I have to appear strong. I can't worry about them liking me. At this point, I know they don't. But that's fine. They will learn to respect me. Respect means more, at this level.

I also had a horrible incident with Bobby today. The kid does not belong in my class. I have the two top set year 8 English classes. They're both absolutely lovely, with very very able kids. Bobby is such a drain on the one class though, he brings everyone else down. Today he refused to listen to me, in any capacity. I had assigned him a new seat, which he refused to sit in. When I gave the kids a task to do (silent reading, while working on their task for a Literature Circle) he refused to read, write, or do anything even remotely productive. He simply sat like a bump on a log and sang stupid, childish tunes out loud. At one point, he was singing about how Barney (the purple dinosaur) have him HIV...it was ridiculous. I kicked him out at one point, and told him to stand in the hall until I came to talk to him. He refused to leave. I was not going to argue with him, as that was clearly what he wanted. Instead, I started at him, with the door open, and my finger pointed, until he sauntered out. He didn't do this quietly though, but I didn't respond. I simply shut the door behind him, and then stood facing the class, with one eye out the window in door.

I addressed the class first, asking them to please (again) ignore Bobby's behaviour. Instantly I was met with a wave of complaining and griping. The kids all expressed severe concerns over Bobby being in the class. They felt it was unfair to them, as they could never get any work done due to his constant misbehaviour and distractions. I told them I would try to work on a solution (my solution would be to get him out. He refused to learn, and is taking away from other children's right to learn. He needs to leave. There is no helping this kid. I'm sorry, but there truly is not!). I then went out and tried to reason with Bobby. He walked away from me, turning back every few steps. It was clear he wanted me to chase him. I refused, so I simply walked back into the classroom, not finishing what I was saying to him.

It worked, and he followed me in, chattering incessantly at my backside the entire way in. Once inside, I turned on him, and in my meanest voice (I was surprised I had it in me) told him to SIT down and get to work. He sat, but he didn't work. He started singing again.
"Give me your diary," I said firmly. Their diary is their planner, in which teachers can communicate with parents.
"No," he said. He started me right in the eyes, grinning this ridiculously cocky grin.
"Give me your diary," I repeated, my hand out.
"No. You can't get it either, if you go into my bag that's invasion of privacy!"
"I've no desire to go into your bag. You either give me your diary or you get out of my classroom," I said.
He reached into his bag and handed me his diary.
"You can't give me any more detentions this week, I've got one every day," he said, almost proudly.
"I'm not going to give you a detention. I'm writing a note to your parents," I said.
A look that was almost concern came over his face.
"Fine," he said, trying to sound tough. I could tell he was a bit scared though. Clearly he gets in SOME sort of trouble for his behaviour at home. I certainly hope so, anyways.
I quickly penned a note in his diary, stating that his inappropriate behaviour and unwillingness to take any direction was going to result from his not attending my class anymore. I can only HOPE that could come true. The day he leaves my classroom, the happier I (and ALL my students) will be.

After I had written in his diary, he was silent for maybe a minute, and then he started to berate other students again, picking on anyone and everyone near him.

Fed up, I yelled at him to get out of my classroom.
"No," he said again.
"Get. Out." I said, emphasizing both words. "If you refuse to work, I CANNOT allow you to continue to distract other people from THEIR work. Get out of my classroom, NOW"
He grabbed his bag and stood.
"Fine, I'm out of here," he said.
"Wait outside the door until I can come talk to you," I said.
"Nope, I'm leaving. I'm leaving," he said.
He walked to the door, his mouth never shutting, as he lipped off every kid he saw. He went and stood by the window outside my classroom. I started to walk over, and as he saw me approach, he took off down the hall.
I hesitated a moment, debating what to do, but then decided it would be an error in judgement if I went chasing after him. For the good of my class, I had to remain with the majority. If the school had a PA system, I would have paged someone, but seeing as they don't I told no one. Not right away, anyways.

On my break, I sent a number of e-mails about the days events with Bobby. I can only hope that a meeting will result, in which we will discuss Bobby's future in my classroom. He does not belong. In fact, the situation is so bad, that I had at least 10 students in the class ask me if they could switch classes, because they could not work in a room where Bobby was present. He was too much of a deterrent to their learning. I assured them that I would find a way to fix the problem. I wanted to tell them that I was going to lobby to have him removed from my class, but I didn't think that would be professional.

At lunch, I heard Bobby on the playground brag about having "walked out" of my lesson. One of the students in the class interjected though, saying "Um, no Bobby. You were asked to leave, and then you took off. You didn't walk out of anywhere. She didn't want you there, and neither did anyone else". I couldn't help but grin.

But...that's really just one student in a sea of many. He's really the only student I can honestly say I DO NOT like. While the others are not all angels, they at least are not socially awkward, totally disruptive, and extremely unlikable people. They all have their redeeming qualities, and while they do have faults, they aren't always that bad. Everyone has a weakness, and everyone is not perfect. I know that more than anyone. I can deal with my other students, because I know that at heart they're decent people. Bobby is not a decent person. He's an extremely angry, extremely confrontational person...he's very hard to deal with.

Anyways....I don't really relish the idea of ending this on a negative note. Rest assured, my mindset right now is not at all negative. I am feeling quite well right now. For the first time, I am feeling a few seeds of contentment growing. Perhaps soon this feeling will predominate, and my days of being a Debbie Downer will be at their end. Hopefully the sun stays around long enough for this to happen. No flower can grow without the sun, and neither can my happiness in this strange and foreign country.

Another thing that is causing me "happiness conflict" has to do with Trevor. I've talked to him pretty much every day since I've gotten the internet (he doesn't have it now, but I can text his phone with MSN, so we've chatted briefly that way). I thorougly enjoy even brief snippits of conversation with him, because it just makes me feel more secure in the fact that I can go back and woo him. However, it's also a bad thing, because if really keeps me attached to him. This is bad, because it makes it hard for me to rationalize meeting men here. Like I said last post, any men I meet here will be "distractions". That is to say, I won't take them very seriously. I may consider taking them seriously for a few months (dating until I leave, as a maximum), but I don't think any man could win me over enough to make me want to stay past my year. However, because I am so hung up on Trevor, I am seriously doubting even my ability to have casual-ish relationships here! This is an entirely new thing for me, I assure you. If you know me at all, I think you will agree that usually I am kind of a bad girl, when it comes to relationships. I've made a lot of mistakes, gone for a lot of the wrong types of guys...but right now, I'm not interested in making mistakes. This makes me sound like I was a huge whore, which isn't the case at all. I just couldn't really make it past two months with someone. Suddenly, it seems that each week that I spend away from Canada, I grow more and more determined to make some serious moves on Trevor when I return....and not make any mistakes in the meantime. What is this? Is this maturity? Is this growing up? Does this suck? YAH IT DOES!

Ha ha ha! I have needs, dammit! The only problem is, my newly mature mind is fighting my body, in allowing me to fulfill those needs. Oh brain, why must you torture me so.

I'm conflicted on whether or not I will see Jake this weekend. A part of me is saying I should give him a chance. His extreme hotness definitely is swaying me towards letting a meeting take place. Whether or not my brain allows my body to take over, once said meeting happens, is unknown to me. If my friend booze is involved, then the body will almost certainly win. It's a tough situation. Tough indeed. Should anything actually happen, it would have to remain totally secret though...if stupid flings resulted in my never getting a solid chance with Trevor, I'd be thoroughly devestated.

But anyways, I've rambled on enough.

Cheers!!