I'm not always a ranting type of teacher, you know. Sometimes I allow myself to forget about bureaucracy, inefficiency, and everything else that can make the whole experience crap. Usually it's when I get the giggles.
Giggling always seems to affect me at the wrong time. Take a few weeks ago, for example.
Two of the little buggers had been messing around all lesson. It's called "low-level
disturbance" but is as irritating as a rat gnawing at your ankle. I kept them behind and had my diplomatic
moan, whilst they did the usual "sorry-it-won't-happen-again (until next lesson)" thing. I asked them
to get out their homework diaries, which also double up as comments-on-behaviour books. As I
went to record my irritation in the first pupil's book, I saw what he had written down
for last week's homework. Rather than the clear explanation I had written on the board for
everyone to copy down, he'd written: "Do crappy homework by next Tuesday". I felt a
smirk play on my lips, and asked him if he thought it sufficiently described his homework task.
At this point the second pupil started to shake with mirth, setting off the first pupil,
who was really trying to keep it together as he mumbled his reply, eyes staring down at the
floor.
But giggling is infectious, and by now my own urge is overwhelming, so in the best exasperated tone I could manage in the circumstances I told them to get out. We all got off lightly there.
At other times my giggling loses me vital authority points. A difficult class was supposed to be discussing something in pairs, whilst I tried to find their register on my paper-strewn desk. But my bat-like hearing zoomed in on one particular conversation concerning what one of the kids found under his parents' bed, and the naïvity of the description that followed, which included the words "naked" and "boobs", coupled with the vision of his ruddy-faced father at parents evening, just set me off. I'm then just a short step away from being spotted, and sure enough everyone soon wants to join in and chaos ensues.
Even worse is the damage a giggling fit can do. When I first started teaching, one
lesson involved individuals coming to the front to give a presentation. I can't remember
the specifics, but one girl was so superbly bad that the rest of the class started to snigger,
which set me off too. She must have been something because if the kids lose interest they soon
start muttering amongst themselves, but she certainly held her audience captive. She persevered,
and I had to edge towards the door so that I could dash out if it got too bad.
Some say it's the kind of thing that can scar a kid for life, but I do remember one of my teachers holding up a drawing of mine to the rest of the class so that they might guffaw at it along with her, and I didn't crumple into tears - I knew it was crap so I laughed along too. I'm sure some would say that it's character building. And if I wasn't laughing with them and at them, I'd be a very miserable old ranter indeed.
added 24/7/03
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