Saturday, 13 July 2013
You got parred by Sir
This snippet is about Dean, a boy who is not called Dean, but who for the purposes of this post, shall be pseudonymised as Dean.
I was explaining to the kids that this morning they would be writing a letter of introduction to their new teacher, in which they could tell a little about themselves, share some vital facts and inform her of what their targets are going to be for the coming year.
Dean starts yelling over the class, and over me, about his own personal target.
I retort back - "Maybe you're target should be to learn when it is not appropriate to speak Dean."
Something about the tone of it came out wrong, a bit triumphant, and then a fast moving ripple effect took over the class, with many of the boys pointing at Dean, shouting "OHHHHHHH!!!!" It was very London. Then, above crowd... "You got parred by Sir."
Dean sat there, staring daggers at me and refusing to pick up his reading book. I asked him to come to me. He didn't. I asked him again, he didn't. I warned him that if he didn't come to me so we could talk, I would have to put him on the traffic lights. He didn't, so I put him on traffic lights.
Then he ambled up to me, thick heavy tears shooting from his eyes. "You're mean to children, you try to make me feel bad." I really don't, and I genuinely have the patience of a saint, particularly with him.
"I'm going to get you fired by (Name of Headteacher)"
"Well Dean, that's not true and it's very sad, but off you go then. You know where his office is?"
He stood there, still looking sad.
"Dean... I'm sorry if it upset you but you can't shout out over me like that, it's disrespectful. I'm sorry if it upset you, but you do need to learn.
"You were cruel."
"Am I being cruel now Dean?"
"Yes, because you're not hugging me when I'm feeling sad."
Crying embrace, reconciliation, shared agreements for me to tell him off less publicly and for him to not shout out.
We move on, and I feel deeply deeply emotional as we start the day's lessons.