My life as a supply teacher (to neither be able to pick fight or weapons)

Okay, I must admitt, I’ve starting to feel a little bit comfortable in the school corridors, know my way to the lunch room and the coffee mashine and other important places. But I still freequently get asked what grade I’m in (whitch speaks on embarrasingly bad judgement from the childrens side, since it only goes up to grade 6 where I am) and the other day when I was wearing wellingtons, no makeup and a rain jacket I got properly stared at by the teachers who sat in the coffee room, before I with an hysterical smile said ”I’m a supply teacher” and they all looked relieved I wasn’t a little scally who’d sneaked in.

But this morning I was a little bit surprised by getting called in as a … music teacher! In panic I texted all music or teacher related people I know asking for ideas, and Märtha came as a rescue. With no clue what ages (except the last lesson whitch prooved to be my youngest brother’s class) Martha squeezed out some good ideas with 20 minutes to go. I ran to the school, stuffed my bag with children’s films (now in retrospect I’m no sure about why I did that), forgot my keys and phone and where almost late for class.

I decided, after improvising some warm-up exercises, to do a music game, I play a song, they sit in teams, they need to guess the song, and so on. I prepared my first song, thinking I’d have some time to think about the next whilst it was playing, I choose Hey ya with Outcast, thinking every living thing on this planet must have heard it, but no. A for once quiet class sat there staring at me with blank faces wining ”play something we know instead” and it struck me, I’ve got NO idea what children listen to today. Sweating like mad I did a mental search through my brothers spotify list and played another “lame” song whilst searching for clues ANYWHERE to what they might like. The where not too impressed, so we went on to me writing a letter, and them singing a song on that letter. Except that they got every single lyrics wrong, it went smooth.

And then I had about no idea what to say, so I started to tell them about my three legged dog in Romania and told them about my friend Paula in Romania who’d made her own song, and played it for them, passing some time trying to explain the lyrics (listen here by the way, it’s really really good!) I think that was about the only thing, except me threatening to call their parents, that kept them quiet and truly fascinated. But then they started asking why my friend didn’t let me be in the music video and it all flipped out again.

The other classes went about the same, but with some more known songs and a brutal and completely failed attempt to musical chairs. (Five kids said it was so boring they refused to participate, one I had to threw out because she was misbehaving so much, two kids asked if they would be sent out too, two boys where wrestling on the floor and about an equal amount where fighting with drum sticks.)

My day ended at 13.10 and I can honestly say I’ve got no idea how any teachers manage to work any longer than that. Just to TALK for that long, without having to amplify your voice above 26 other voices is crazy.  If I’m lucky they’ll put me in wood art tomorrow and at least I’ve got something better than drum sticks to fight back with if neccesary.

/J

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