I, not unlike many others I’m sure, was slightly dubious of my first day. What would the staff think of me, what would the kids think of me. Anyone else who went to a school will know what I mean.
I also turned up twenty minutes early, which rubbed salt in the wound big-time. The uncomfortable silence with the teacher made the classroom seem like a ghost town and the unsettling looks from the early children made me feel like a lion, marching in on their territory.
As soon as the day began I was introduced to the children which took away several of the sour looks and added a few smiles to boot. I know it seems a bit sad now but at the time it was like winning the world cup. I thought that if I got the children on my side, the week would be a doodle.
Throughout the week I was given supervision jobs where I sat with a certain table and helped them with any problems. I worked mainly with the less intellectually gifted members of the class and I’m glad of that as I felt that if I had worked with some of the cleverer ones I might have got a little bored.
I only did small jobs like helping out with spellings, which are not my strong point and lead to some embarrassing moments in the week. I also helped with some of the math problems. The children were counting in tens and hundreds, which to them seemed near impossible.
At times I found it quite hard to understand the relative simplicity of the children, I can’t ever remember being quite like that but I’m sure I was. There was also a huge difference in ability between some of the children. Some could add up three figure sums while others could hardly tell me what came after thirty-five.
As a child I always wondered what became of the teachers at lunch and break times, where did they go what did they do? I would ponder to myself while daydreaming in the infants. Well now I know, for sure at least. They sit in the staff room drinking coffee and greedily munching biscuits.
One of the teachers was a particularly memorable glutton as every time I entered the staff room she would be there, in the same old chair gobbling down tonnes of chocolate biscuits. I made a little task of trying to acquire some chocolate biscuits but every time I went into the staff room they were mysteriously gone. I would hope the same sort of procedure is not present at Beaumont but one can never be sure.
The head teacher, Mrs Paula Holden seemed to me like some sort of time bomb, she was quite pleasant at some times yet she could turn vicious as a terrier the next minute. She also clung onto her principals like a war veteran.
Although some of those principals were a little strange yet I am sure there was some method behind her madness. She wouldn’t let pupils onto the grass purely because the summer term hadn’t started even though the pasture was bone dry, this I thought was a little strange. Although she might have been like one of my old Spanish teachers who went on power surges, if only to prove she was still in charge.
I went home on the last day of that week feeling absolutely deadbeat yet I also felt happy, not only that the week was over but also because the whole experience had been quite satisfying. I had grown quite accustomed to the routine of my work placement.
I went to sleep that night feeling glad of my achievements throughout the week.
.The End
