Tag Archives: fanny and mauds’s school for fine young ladies

a week in the life of a … goddess (what did you think I was going to write?)

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You’ve all missed me a little this week, haven’t you? I have been a little distant as my work at Sunnybrook College (not its real name!) becomes more demanding.

An interesting week; lots of meetings; before school, after school, and any time they can be squeezed in between. I had to break up a fight between two large senior students on Friday, outside the front doors to the library. I yelled at them to stop and to follow me to my office, where I issued them with forms to go the responsible thinking room.

Senior students are often mountain men. We have a number of South Pacific Islander and Maori students, and by the time they reach the age of 16 and 17 they are HUGE! Lots of hormones and lots of aggression. A female teacher, even when a goddess such as I, has to pray for some good luck when taking on some of those big guys – remember, the government won’t let me have my stick!

It was the first time I have sent anyone off to the Responsible Thinking Classroom, and I had to send two at once, so I was a little worried about  bluffing my way through, but though they protested that I was being unfair and they were grossly mistreated, they went off as instructed. It is not a part of the job that ever gets easier, but at least at this school the admin backs up the teachers, which is not always the case in a lot of schools, especially private schools.

I have decided to shelve some of our library books by genre first and dewey second. Literacy is our main aim, and I am less worried about the correct dewey classification number, than getting the kids reading. I have read reports that shelving books by genre increases circulation figures, and it is always my experience that students ask ‘do you have any mystery books?” or “ …fantasy books?” more than any other question. So, I want to get that book into their hand as fast as possible, and so I am shelving by genre. Melville Dewey might roll over in his grave, but then libraries today bare less and less resemblance to the libraries he knew! Get with the times, Melville!

To do so means moving all the books around. I started with bays of fantasy books today. It meant moving the entire fiction collection just to enable space for relocation, so by the end of the day my arms and back were pretty tired.

Madonna and I are the same age, and at the rate I am going I shall have more toned arms that dear Madge before she knows it.  (I am already more beautiful, naturally, without the help of surgery or air brushing, or body stockings. Poor Madonna, she just can’t compete, why does she continue to try? Why does anyone try? Mere mortals!)

I had my first study skills classes with year 10 this week too. I read them a short story to start with, then made them do individual silent reading, which made some of them act as though their lives were coming to an end. I allow them to read anything in the library – magazines, newspaper, fiction, non-fiction, even picture books, and yet some still grumble and groan. “I don’t like reading!” they say, and I reply ‘That’s only because you haven’t found what you like to read yet!” and off they trudge as though going to the gallows.

It was interesting to see how some of the students acted when I said that I was going to read to them. Their looks of surprise were memorable to say the least! Most of the girls settled in quickly, as did the Asian boys, but the indigenous students and a group of Maori kids, found it hard to sit still, even though they were sitting on bean bags, couches and even on the floor as they chose! By the end of the story, they were mostly paying attention, though.

I suspect some of those present may not have had a lot of books read to them. Others have English as their second language. I like to model reading aloud to them, stumbles and all, so that they see that it is okay to make mistakes when reading. It is weird though to look up from the page and see all these big bodies lying around you as you read. One or two closest to me, lying full length of the floor were six foot men-children.

It certainly is a change from Fanny and Maude’s School for fine Young Ladies!

Daughter2 has been on holiday in Thailand at some swanky spa resort all week. As of today she has not purchased anything for me. She may not be allowed back across the border again if she doesn’t rectify that issue pretty damn quick. An eight hour stop over in Singapore might alleviate her possible refugee statues however. No gift for Mama, no home. Simple.

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Hoses away!

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Mr FD often forgets to turn off the hose when he puts the sprinkler on the lawn. To help remind him (in addition to my “reminding” him) he usually sets the timer on the oven to ring at the required time.

This morning the oven bell rang and he turned to me and asked, “Do you have the sprinkler on?”

Strange as it may be, no, I was using the timer for its intended use – as an oven timer! I wonder where he thinks the muffins I bake come from?

We have several Filipino and South American gardeners at Fanny and Maude’s School. One is called Jose. In the end of year skits put on by the graduation class, they introduced HoseA (Jose). The student playing HoseA was one of  twins. Later in the skit the other twin appeared . Yes, she was HoseB! It got the biggest laugh of all the skits.

Please don’t think it was racist, as they lampooned most of the staff. The yard staff are all treated with great respect.

However, for the second year in a row (well, both times I have been present, it may have been more years than that) the students really lampooned the library staff as being only concerned about rules and silence and for being strange and having no value to the students. The message is there [that the library is pathetic and a waste of space as it is], and yet they allow it to continue. I have been marching up and down in front of them for two years now and  … well none as blind as though who will not see!

checking the facts

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During a pause from studying The Crucible, one student looked up and asked, somewhat concerned, “Does it matter that I don’t know very much about Hell?”

“No, of course not.”

“Hell is the bad place, right? That is where the devil is? And the devil is satan, that’s it, isn’t it?”

here we go, here we go…

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Down the yellow brick to Fanny and Maude’s School for Fine Young Ladies, today. This term I am wearing my English Teacher’s cap and teaching Senior English, and Thinking Skills. Not sure how much thinking will take place, but it is another adventure in the school of life!

It is a short term in that there is only 4 weeks of teaching time before final exams. So, I really need to be intense for the next month. The time will pass quickly I am sure.

desperately seeking Dolce Far Niente

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I have been seeking Dolce Far Niente all week, but have yet to achieve anything close.

Monday I did go for a wonderful massage, but it was punctuated by grocery shopping, picking up mending and other chores around the suburb.

Tuesday we did spend time with relatives, but it took on a cast of thousands, well, three children full of energy, and a Grandma hard of hearing, so it wasn’t exactly the relaxing occasion planned.

Wednesday, I had a meeting with the Head of Department at Fanny and Maude’s School for Fine Young Ladies. I am teaching The Crucible to year 11, and deconstructing documentaries with grade 12. We are modelling Fahrenheit 9/11 as the class example, and as I haven’t actually watched it, I needed a copy. None available at the school, and just about every other store was out of stock. I finally found a copy to hire but Fanny and Maude did take up most of the day.

Thursday, today, we are donating our blood. Making sure Mr FD and I drink and eat enough to refrain from fainting in a ditch afterwards is taking up this morning.

Tomorrow, the climate smart people are scheduled to visit. So I have to move our clutter a step to the left.

Saturday afternoon, Daughter2 arrives inhouse and so the official staycation begins. Not a minute too soon.

Desperately needing  Dolce Far Niente.

 

dis·en·gage

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dis·en·gage

transitive verb

: to release from something that engages or involves

intransitive verb

: to release or detach oneself

Tomorrow is the last day of school term, and the last day of my term contract at St Mary’s of the Middle Class Ladies, and once again I am finding myself in the process of disengaging myself from people, place and work. I am getting fairly practiced at it now.

No one has to remind me that I need to hand back my keys and name badge; log off the lap top and hand it to IT; clean out the drawer I may have been spared for my personal belongings by the regular incumbent; return any school resources I may have been given, and turn off the lights as I leave!

Sometimes the disengagement process is easier than at other times. Sometimes, I have never engaged to even need to disengage!  Their fault, not mine, of course! This time I am leaving with more than a pang of regret of if only.  If only the incumbent has enjoyed three months of leave so much that they will seek a tree change, sea change, job change. If only the incumbent was kidnapped by marauding pygmies and taken back to be their leader and so will need to surrender their day job. If only the incumbent will arrive home in a full body cast which they will need to wear for the next 9 years.  If only they would love me more…  Such stuff is what dreams are made of.

So, with two days and only one class to teach, I am already mentally through the process. I have spent the morning surfing the net. Twice I have suggested that we lock the library and head to the beach. I have the attention span of a bubble blower.  I have walked back to be car park to rescue the chocolate melting in my car to share with my co-workers. I have eaten most of it. (Why it was in my car is another blog post)

 I want to hit the road.

Next term I am returning to Fanny and Maude’s, where I taught for a semester last year and was sublimely happy. I have been even happier at St Mary’s as I have taught very few classes and those that I did required no real preparation. I have had no marking to do, or reporting to complete. No deadlines. And the most beautiful thing of all is that THE INCUMBENT is so disliked and self-involved that all I really had to do was smile, be pleasant and only slightly helpful and they have given me accolades. However, I am more than happy to returning to the hallowed halls of those great ladies, Fanny and Maude (the first names of some of the original principals, for those late comers who are now scratching their heads in bewilderment).  I made friends there.

I won’t be teaching a full load. I will not even go into school on a Tuesday. Less work means less pay, but some pay is better than no pay!

In the meantime, I will enjoy a staycation. I am also getting very practiced at staycations! Less work, no money, get the plot?

This staycation will be slightly different as Daughter2 is coming home for a few days to share time with me. This morning she emailed so say that she has booked us in for a facial. I have never had a professional facial. I am more the kind who buys a tube of peel off mask from the Avon lady. She fretted that perhaps she shouldn’t have booked the appointment early in the morning, as our hair might be messy for hitting the town afterwards. I suggested that we go to the movies and sit in the dark with messy hair, glowing skin and a beverage in hand (if we go to the Barracks cinema the beverage can be of the alcoholic kind!). Plan finalised.

Another day we will go to the art gallery to see the Henri Cartier-Bresson: The Man, The Image & The World exhibition. Daughter2 viewed it last year when in New York (as one does!), but is enthusiastic to see it again. We have a day of lying on my bed and watching movies planned as well, which will no doubt involve some form of chocolate too. Life won’t be so bad.

That will all be happening in the second vacation week. Before that, I need to reclaim our house from the refuse tip it has become over the last few week, due to work and family issues (BIL is out of ICU and making a slow, but sturdy recovery).

So, tomorrow I will drive out the gate of St Mary’s for the last time…this year. For who knows what tomorrow, next year, or the year after, will bring. It may bring me back to St Mary’s, it may not. All I ask is that tomorrow takes me somewhere I can be happy, involved and passionate. I really would have it all then.

Fanny and Maude, here I come!

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Fanny and Maude’s School for Fine Young Ladies called me today and offered me a teaching contract for term 4 (end September-end November). It is 4 days a week, so not as many hours as I would like, but it’s FANNY AND MAUDE’S! They also have a teacher librarian’s position that I am praying will be available next year, so foot back in the door. Teaching English, to Senior students, so it will be a little, a lot, more work than what I have been doing this term, but another great school.

Smiling.