Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Three disparate things

Apathy Jack writes:

During School

“Okay, so we have Aeneas and Dido sheltering in the cave together, huddling for warmth. Can you guess what might have happened then?”
“Wagga-chicka wagga-chicka wagga-chicka!”
“Dido’s a sluttypants!”
“Pretty much, yes.”
“Sir, have you forgotten there’s a third former in the room?”
“Hey, he shouldn’t have been kicked out of his own class then. Anyway, I just asked you all a rhetorical question, you’re the ones going ‘bam’ and making distortion-pedal noises and saying, what was it, Cady?”
“Sluttypants! Sluttypants! Sluttypants!”
“Yes. So where were we? ‘The sky connived at their union; the lightning flared on the mountain-peak; nymphs...’”
“You mean the Sex-Fairies?”
“Yes, ‘...the lightning flared on the mountain-peak; the Sex-Fairies raised their cry’. So the nymphs are singing their song, which goes, Cady?”
“Sluttypants! Sluttypants! Sluttypants!”
“Thank you.”
“So, Sir, of we write in the exam that the nymphs’ song went, ‘Sluttypants! Sluttypants! Sluttypants!’ would we get the mark?”
“I’m pretty sure they won’t be asking about lyrics.”
“But if they do, can we say you told us it was that?”
“Ah, but I didn’t tell you; Cady did.”
“Can we say that Cady told us?”
“Sure, why not? I can just see the NZQA bigwig marking the papers and saying ‘Well if Cady says so...’”

After School

“Mister, can I have my bag back?”
“Nope. I told you, you get it back tomorrow.”
“It’s not fair!”
“You walked into my room, loudly announced you were going to stay here and wag Tourism, refused to leave even after I asked you five or six times, then sat in the middle of the floor for the entire period during a class that wasn’t your own.”
“Yeah, so?”
“So when I took your bag and told you that I’d keep it overnight unless you left, you stayed on the floor and said ‘Yeah okay”. I gave you a choice, and you made it in full possession of all the facts.”
“But I need my bag!”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have made the choice that you did, but you did, so you get your bag back tomorrow.”
“Oh my god! This is stealing!”
“Yep. Go ahead and report me to the Principal for misconduct. You can begin your report with ‘I was wagging Tourism and wouldn’t leave despite being told to several times...’”
“But... But... It’s stealing! It’s wrong!”
“So is wagging and disobeying direct instructions from teachers.”
“I don’t care!”
“Exactly. You don’t care that you wagged and were disobedient; and I don’t care that I stole.”
“Oh my god! I have soccer training now, and my uniform’s in my bag!”
“I believe you. But you’re not getting it back.”
“My wallet’s in there, with my bus fare. It will take me an hour to walk home. Oh my god! My house key is in my bag! I need it!”
“I genuinely do believe you. But I’m really, honestly and truly not giving your bag back to you.”
“But I’ll get into trouble from Mum!”
“Again, I believe you. You seem to think that if you come up with new and better arguments, I’ll realise I’m wrong, however, I believe all of your arguments, but I’m not going to change my mind.”
“I’ll tell my Mum you stole it!”
“Be my guest. Remember to mention the part about the wagging and the refusal to follow instructions.”
“Oh my god! You can’t just take my bag!”
“And you can’t wag and refuse to follow instructions and expect that nothing will come of it.”
“I promise I’ll never wag or not listen to you again!”
“I do believe you’ve learned a lesson. I also believe that the lesson will stick longer if you have to walk home and explain to your mother where your bag has gone.”
“Oh my god! You can’t just steal!”
“And you can’t just wag and disobey direct instructions.”
“It’s not the same thing!”
“Why not?”
“It’s just not!”
“See, I think we’ve struck upon the nature of the problem. You realise that what you did was wrong, but you think you should be allowed to do it anyway, and suffer no consequences. You don’t want the rules – scarce though mine may be – to apply to you.”
“I didn’t think you’d mind if I wagged in your class.”
“I asked you five times to leave, and you knew I was serious.”
“It’s not like you picked me up and threw me out.”
“I tried! If you’ll recall, I did attempt to physically hoist you off the floor, and remove you from the room.”
“But I put up a good fight, ay?”
“You did.”
“And I won.”
“For certain values of ‘won’, yes. Congratulations. You’re a winner.”

Later After School

Sitting at the bus stop, trying to write something about the physical confrontation between a Maths teacher one of the students. It doesn’t really flow unless I use the phrase “fist fight”, but it wasn’t one of those; it was just a vigorous shoving match that would have turned into something far worse had the HOD of Maths not turned up and separated them.

Temporarily giving up, I chat with some passing students. One of them mentions “You know the Graphics teacher ran Billy over with his car this afternoon, ay?”

Sod the flow of “fist fight”, do you people have any idea how hard it is to make “vehicular assault” scan in what’s meant to be a casual and pithy blog post?

1 comment:

Paul said...

So the student wagged Tourism and took a holiday in Classics. I am not surprised if you are telling them about casual sex in a cave. I am surprised that Tourism is a subject. Perhaps we can hope that the student learned something about education, rather than training.