My career in teaching - 08
posted by sooyup
on
Mr Chips
Teachers have their favourites, let know-one tell you differently. Mostly it's the bright pupils, well-behaved and diligent. My choice being more limited, I preferred the company of the street-wise. Mark deserves a mention. Amongst his most obvious identifying marks were the words love and hate crudely tattooed on the fingers of his right and left hand respectively. A couple of facial battle-scars and a chipped tooth made him look far more menacing than he was. Whenever I visited him, on the several occasion he was locked away for short spells, his appreciation always reduced him to tears - something no amount of punishment could do. One morning, I was a few minutes late getting to my classroom. My lads were lined up outside the room looking uncomfortably well-behaved. The Headmaster stood with his arms folded and glared at me. "I was unable to let them into your room," he said. "I didn't have my pass-key." "Pass-key, Headmaster?" I countered. "We don't need pass-keys. Mark could get us into any room in the school with a piece of wet cotton. Couldn't you, Mark?" Mark shrugged his eloquent shrug. "Well, " he replied. "I could with a hair-pin."
Teachers have their favourites, let know-one tell you differently. Mostly it's the bright pupils, well-behaved and diligent. My choice being more limited, I preferred the company of the street-wise. Mark deserves a mention. Amongst his most obvious identifying marks were the words love and hate crudely tattooed on the fingers of his right and left hand respectively. A couple of facial battle-scars and a chipped tooth made him look far more menacing than he was. Whenever I visited him, on the several occasion he was locked away for short spells, his appreciation always reduced him to tears - something no amount of punishment could do. One morning, I was a few minutes late getting to my classroom. My lads were lined up outside the room looking uncomfortably well-behaved. The Headmaster stood with his arms folded and glared at me. "I was unable to let them into your room," he said. "I didn't have my pass-key." "Pass-key, Headmaster?" I countered. "We don't need pass-keys. Mark could get us into any room in the school with a piece of wet cotton. Couldn't you, Mark?" Mark shrugged his eloquent shrug. "Well, " he replied. "I could with a hair-pin."
