Friday 31 January 2014

My Burning Sense of Injustice Part 2

When I was eleven, I had a teacher I really didn’t like.  I was just at the right age to not like teachers (slightly too old to be sincerely deferent, not old enough to let on), and she was just the right kind of teacher to dislike.
My parents’ generation, having suffered corporal punishment (ie, institutionalised violent child abuse) might be incredulous at my burning sense of injustice.  After all, it’s not like I was ever hit by my teacher.  She was just an arsehole, of the kind I would simply avoid as far as possible these days.
Being children in her class, however, we had no recourse against her being a bit of a dick to us.  Which she most definitely was.
At secondary school, I detested most of my teachers, mostly on the grounds of a general problem with authority.  But I trace it back to the top class at primary, where I learned how to seethe silently in revenge fantasies….
I was having a clear out of all the old boxes under the bed, and I came across an A4 sheet of paper.  Just in case you wanted to know where all my self-righteous anger comes from, I’ve copied it below.  Clock the third person reportage style.  (what a precociously annoying little scamp I must have been….)
Here’s what it said – verbatim except that the names have been changed to protect the guilty:

TIMEWASTING CHART

Mrs C.W. is teacher of the top class (Years 5 and 6) at CTK School.  She is also controversial, and, according to many of her pupils – past and present – down-right nasty.  She carries on prattling about homework or whatever well into breaktimes, lunchtimes and after the end of school.  Clayton Blzzard was part of Mrs. W’s class for 2 years.  He rebelled by counting up the minutes.  For Mrs. W started a system of adding up minutes her pupils allegedly wasted, of her lesson time.  She would add it all up and put it into a detention on Friday lunchtime.  But Clayton did the same.  He added up time Mrs. W wasted, going into breaktimes and lunchtimes.  He made this decision in January 1992.  He kept recording until he was uncovered to Mrs. W by one of his trusted friends.  Here, for the first time we have the records he made – from January 20th to March 20th.  He had intended to carry on until 10th April, the end of the winter term, but his cover was blown.
Here are the official records:

 

Surely some action should be taken?  Perhaps a day off for all her pupils.  She took action – why not us?  A pupil strike, perhaps?  Well, maybe the next generation.  For we must only watch and teach the new class of Mrs. C W.  Because Clayton Blizzard’s reign of rebellion has ended.  He must now face new dangers.

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