Thursday, January 13, 2005

While flicking through my computer files, in an attempt to solve my exponentially-increasing administration problem, I came across this little gem, written during my PGCE. I can't remember why I wrote it, but I thought it might amuse:

It was a Tuesday evening, about 10 o’clock; to be precise, it was the second day of being a teacher, as opposed to being a person with a notebook at the back of the class. My PGCE house-mates had collapsed in front of the TV, whilst I was on hands and knees cleaning the floor. Now, this may be an everyday activity for some, but firstly, I’m a student, and secondly, this was the floor of the school hall. What was more, the Head was looking on approvingly.

Before you become unduly worried, this was not the result of an uncontrollable Year 10 class, or a punishment for being too cheery in the mornings, (although I have been accused of the latter crime!). It’s simply one of those extra-curricular activities that strikes fear into those who hear its name...the school production.

Teachers from all departments had been coerced into helping: front-of-house; back-stage; dressing room crowd control. My part in all this was as a tree shifter and splurge cleaner...oh, and creating the odd custard pie! In true school production style, trying to co-ordinate 80-plus pupils was a continuous battle (“Where is Leroy the Boxer? He’s missing again!”) However, the first night was fantastic: the cast sparkled; the audience loved it; and even thought Leroy missed his cue again no-one seemed to notice. Post-production analysis (over pints and curry) was very favourable; none of us could believe what had happened, and how smoothly it had happened!

So it continued: by day I’d impart pearls of wisdom to classes I’d never met before; by night, I was deputy tree shifter with a cameo appearance as a comedy policeman - how I ended up with a walk-on part is beyond me, but it was fun anyway! By the end of the week I was running on nervous exhaustion, and on the last night nearly fell asleep in my curry. However, the struggle to get up each morning was worth it: even though I couldn’t recognise the pupils without their makeup and costumes, they all knew me. I became one of the staff, not just some student that lurked in the staffroom. I was there, I survived, and I have the dodgy photos to prove it!!

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Come on then; share the photos. Tom

Mad said...

I had the photos then, but not now. After all, it was written seven years ago!