I'm coming home

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

I write in the uncertainty of my employment status. I informed the school and the teaching agency of my intention to return to the country of my birth on 1 December (I cannot explain the level of excitement I feel). Let's just say I did not receive a positive response. I've been given half term to re-think my decision and then will inform them next week. I may just have to tell them I am leaving for good quite frankly. Hell's teeth! It is not a pleasant job. I feel it necessary to provide some background information (see bullet points below) to substantiate my opinion:

- I work with two boys, one for the morning session and one for the afternoon session, and two girls over the lunchtime period. As per usual, the girls are delightful, relatively well-mannered and pleasant. The boys, on the other hand, as per usual, are grumpy and difficult.

- Both boys are years behind in comparison to their contemporaries in Year 4 and 5. Unfortunately, they come from bad backgrounds and have not been given the attention and love that I was lucky enough to receive (in truckloads) as a young child and throughout my life. It is with sadness more than anger that I become frustrated at their respective situations. And that frustration then turns to the education system in the United Kingdom, which in my opinion, is rotten to the core.

- According to some of the teachers at my school, at primary school level, you cannot permanently exclude/expel a pupil. If they do something severe (as in hit a teacher), you can suspend them for a few days as punishment. This means that there is no real disciplinary procedure for other offences. In my experience, there is no discipline at all. I have only worked at one school but I speak to all the supply teachers I meet and they say there is a general pattern. My school is one of the worst. (Oh well, thank goodness I cracked a good one then!) When a child is rude or disrespectful or disruptive, you either send him/her to another classroom for another poor teacher to deal with (which the naughty kids love because they get out of work) or you send them to the head teacher or head master. Head master sits them down so that they are at equal height and chats nicely to them to find out what went wrong. He then says, "That can't happen again, okay? Now go back to class and be a good boy." Wow, wouldn't you be frightened?

- What I find most interesting is the system of inclusion of special needs children into the classroom and the mixing up of the different academic levels in one classroom. I understand perfectly the theory behind integrating all children into the same classroom so that no one with a disability is left out. I do think, however, that the disadvantages outweigh the positive aspects. The lower level kids find incredibly difficult because they feel inadequate all the time and they are generally the ones who misbehave. The bright children lose out because they are constantly being disrupted. And the special needs kids, who are unable to concentrate on a good day, simply battle. The boy I work with in the afternoon is in Year 5, the equivalent of SA's Grade 5, and can hardly count to 15. He has behavioural problems due to bad home life etc. The government has paid for his learning support for five years and he still cannot count. He will never be able to learn properly in the classroom environment he is in. He needs to be taught in a different way altogether. Apparently, South Africa is due to introduce this same inclusion system next year.

Anyway, onto brighter and better topics... Went to see my first West End show a few weeks ago. Barry and I bought the cheapest tickets obviously but we could see enough from where we were sitting and the music was too beautiful. We watched a production called Wicked which has connections to the Wizard of Oz. We took turns looking through the little binoculars but there was no problem hearing the singing. Made me want to jump onto the stage...too late to be a West End star she cried?

Another of my classic UK tales is Carminator's Rollerdisco birthday party. Rollerdisco is a disco on a rollerskating floor. I thought that many years after my dismal attempts to rollerskate/rollerblade/waterski/rockclimb/abseil/slide from one rock crevice to another (anything to do with bravery or balance or heights or falling) as a young buck, I would have gotten over most of my fears. Hence, I attempted the impossible again. Most of the group had never put on a pair of rollerskates before. Oh but didn't they take to it like little ducklings to water. Ooooh my blood boils at the thought. I had the advantage of owning a second hand pair of rollerskates in my youth and I still couldn't "roll" any other way than onto the ground and around. The instructors at the event are very helpful. One of the very kind marshalls could see I was useless and came over to help me. At this point, I was hanging precariously from a pillar, my face contorted and my legs shaking. He said he'd help me round the floor. After 100 wobbles and 3 falls, he said, "Do you want to take those off for a while?" He meant, "Never try this again!" in a nice way. And I said "Hell yes!" I went to sit at the bar and drowned my sorrows whilst my contemporaries showed their many talents. Dear me.

Went to Hyde Park and to Sloane Square, beautiful part of London. White buildings, embassies all around. Sarah Braithwaite's friend, Nick Ackerman (of Pick 'n Pay acclaim) lives in Sloane Square across from the Italian embassy. I was in awe of how lovely it all was. Hyde Park was also fantastic. Funny that there were fifty people practicing their rollerskating technique along the pathways, emphasising my inadequacies from the night before.

Carminator and I went exploring the other day around Buckingham Palace and Westminster Abbey. It rained the whole time and we came home cold and looking GOOD. Glad I've seen some of the touristy places. Off to Exeter this weekend to visit my aunt. Looking forward to seeing another part of the country that is England.

Fra