Apathy Jack writes:
So, yesterday, two students came to visit me after school. One of them fainted in her computer class last week, and she had heard I was concerned about her, so she came to see me. Through the course of the discussion she revealed to me that she had gone through a period of cutting herself (which I had already gotten out of my informants) but that the fainting spell was caused by malnutrition (which was news to me).
We chatted about their hopes for the future, about politics and world events, God and cartoons. It was three hours before I turfed them out – daylight savings meant they were about to be walking home in the dark.
...
Today I had a Classics class of six – happens every time there’s a Geography field trip. Chatting idly about race politics in the upcoming movie “300”, one of my Tongans gets a text telling her that some girls from the rich school a couple of suburbs over are roaming the grounds of Hoodrat looking for her. My girl explains that this beef has grown out of a misunderstanding involving the church choir she and the leader of the rich girls sing for. She assures me she can resolve the situation peacefully, and shows me the new text giving her the latest location of the Outsiders.
Telling the others to stay put, I go with my girl to the back of the school. It is empty, the Outsiders seemingly having moved on, much to the chagrin of the other five students, who have snuck out of my classroom and followed us in case we needed backup.
Exasperated, I march them back to class.
“Do you know what would be happening now in a normal school with normal teachers?” I ask them. “You’d be writing essays, dammit!”
“Good thing this isn’t a normal school an’ you’re not a normal teacher, then.” One of them called from behind me.
...
The timeline is as follows:
Thursday of last week: find out there is another applicant being considered for Head of Department, despite what we have been promised.
Friday of last week: find out there’s a job going at Josh’s girlfriend’s school.
Weekend: write CV.
Yesterday: email CV to Josh’s girlfriend’s school.
This morning: receive confirmation that outside applicant has been given position as Head of Department.
This afternoon: go for interview. Am offered the job before I leave. I accept.
God alone knows how desperate they must have been – I haven’t shaved in weeks and I wore sneakers to the interview.
There are a great many positives to the new job, which I may or may not get around to writing about. Hell, I genuinely believe that in the long run I’ll be happier, and able to teach better, in the new place.
But damn the Principal of Hoodrat for forcing me into this position. I cannot ever forgive this.
8 comments:
I have to say that simultaneously Im both deeply deeply sorry for ya mate, and really happy. Im really a confused little elf.
Like Dribblor it's hard to know what exactly to say given the circumstances, but congratulations.
It's a good school, there, and a good team. I'm sure your receding hairline will thank you.
You're a bigger man than most people I know - and for once, I don't mean that facetiously.
Good luck, and congratulations Jack. I really mean it.
I want to say both 'Well done' and 'Bugger.' Instead, I will say 'Well buggered.'
My sentiments exactly, Mr. Ransome.
I have only one word to write for this occasion, although I'll use far more than one to introduce it, because I fear that actually it's a bit underwhelming.
Are you now suitably prepared?
And the word is:
Ditto.
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