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Tuesday, 18 March 2014

TSB Bombs

At Last.

After 16 years of teaching, my finer qualities have been recognised.

16 years of suffering teenage body odours.

16 years of maintaining a cool, friendly and professional mien.

16 years of correcting students' essays with such basic errors of grammar, syntax and punctuation as to cause an acute and sobbing heartbreak in the depths of my soul.(which I don't have anyway, so it doesn't really matter, but it's a bit existentialist, so I'll keep it in)

Plus of course 3 bloody years putting up with Ringo. (See earlier posts for this tragic tale of Mancunian angst.  And a right bastard)

I had made it.

I had reached the penultimate heights of teaching.

I was now an The Assistant Principal.

My fellow members of the Senior Management Team (did I mention that I'd made Assistant Principal?) celebrated my achievement by telling me that they were ALL taking two days off next week, leaving me in sole charge.

Bugger me, where did they all go?

Now I know think believe dream that my peers recognise me as a competent person, but this was a bit too much, too soon.

Never mind.

I would cope.

What could possibly go wrong.


Monday was spent with my normal duties, teaching my 2 classes, preparing the next days lessons, checking and moderating assessments, re-labelling my office door,  (Did I mention that I'd been made Assistant Principal?) and getting ready for today. 

D Day.

The day when I was completely and solely in charge.

The day started well, with just a few brave souls about Nuova Lazio High School in the wee, dark hours of the morning.  I expected at least a genuflection from them, but they just gave the usual Kiwi greeting of "G'day Mate" and a cheery wave.

I had originally  planned to wave haughtily and ask them to kiss my ring, but I had second thoughts, as I was worried it might be wrongly construed. (Kiwis, especially those from the lower ranks can be crude on occasion)

There being no morning brief on a Tuesday (the staff all hide away from the SMT (Did I mention that I'd been promoted to the mighty rank of Assistant Principal?) doing things about the kids pastoral care or something of similar obscure and meaningless activity.

 So I sat in my office (The one with the new sign) and did some meaningless paperwork for the Ministry.

The usual suspects shuffled by my door, giving me furtive and guilty looks as they passed.  A faint miasma of poverty and despair wafted into my exclusive area, reminding me of the hardships we all faced in Nuova Lazio High School.

Then the first pupils arrived.

They had the typical morning reasons to see a person of my exalted rank.  Wrong shoes, wrong socks, wrong timetable, wrong school (I kid you not.  His Mum had dropped him off here instead of the Intermediate School on the next street.)

Each case requiring my deeply honed and exquisitely earned expertise in pedagogy and management skills.

I wrote them their excuse notes, sent them back to class (and the misplaced pupil back to Mum or his school or the main road or whatever.  He wasn't one of ours so I didn't really care) and retired to S block for my first second third coffee of the day, exhausted from all that executive strain.

S Block coffee area (Just for us)

I trudged down to class, delivered my usual scintillating and illuminating lesson on relational database in the 3rd Normal Form, and returned to S block for a refreshment.

"This was the way life should be" I thought.

Then I heard the rapid approach of our school secretary.

"TSB" "Thank God I've found you"  "The Police want to see you NOW"  (This last bit was screamed (poor excitable girl) with a note of urgent anguish.

This was the moment.

This was what I was created for.

Did I mention that I was now The Assistant Principal?

The Force is strong within me


  1. Wotchootoorpolis!

    Oh wait, you're the ASSISTANT PRINCIPAL now; what could you possibly fear?

    1. Correct.

      I fear nothing, for I am a superior being.
      (I got permission from my Beloved to use that title)

  2. Strike them down with the death force oh powerful one... I will follow you to the dark side oh lord....

    Love the kid at the wrong school - what chance does that poor sod have?

    I wish I could blog about my wife's school stuff... sexual tensions in the staff room, mothers engaging in a full blooded wrestling match in a classroom in front of 20 impressionable 11 years, a girl with a known condition having a mild fit and her teacher leaning over her in tears believing she'd died whilst my wife bellows at her to pull herself together and get the rest of the class out and for God sake CALL an AMBULANCE! But I best not people will think it all fiction... ;-)

    1. Thank you.

      Kindly get in the queue.

      It's happened before, but to be fair, they did get the right suburb.

      Love the idea of a blog from your wife's school. Just be sure to make it all mysterious and anonymous...blood stains quite lot I find..

  3. Wrong school? I had a friend who got on the wrong plane to Zurich, he was on his way to Pakistan. This of course was before they recruited airport staff straight from school. Your school? With power comes ultimate power? See I went to a kiwi public school and can never remember the ends of any quote.

    1. Yep, ever word is absolutely true...on my heart y'r honour.

      Kiwi public school? ... impressed.does that mean you actually had enough chairs for you all? and hot and cold running water?

      Were you possibly referring to :
      Power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely?


      With power comes responsibility?


      Scottish council school.... best education in the world. Allegedly.

  4. any chance, are you in line for a promotion?

    The police merely wanted to congratulate you, I'm sure. Tell you what a fine job you're doing as Assistant Principal.

    1. Promotion?

      How could you have possibly guessed.

      The police wanted something I wasn't even aware of.

      All will be told in the next thrilling instalment.

  5. No doubt this is the first step on the way to becoming the Education Minister.

    1. Sadly no.

      There seems to be an unwritten worldwide law that any Minister of Education can have absolutely no experience of education in any form.

  6. It looks like you're assisting the principal by doing his or her job! As well as assisting the police with their enquiries. If I were you, I'd appoint an Assistant Assistant Principal so I could take it easy.

    1. Good idea. But wouldn't that mean sharing power?

      I'll discuss the Police at length on my next post.


  7. So are you trying to say (gloat) that you are an AP? Now that is highly appropriate for a computer geek like you TSB.

    I know why the Police called for your assistance. Your amazing skills have been requested to help find the missing Malaysian Airlines Boeing 777 plane?

    1. Gloating Geeks are Good.

      Ah, the polis...wait for the next exciting instalment.

      And no, nothing to do with the UFO-taken Malaysian flight.

  8. With great power comes great responsibility. Or at least the shirking of great responsibility.

    1. I NEVER shirk.

      I just delegate enthusiastically.

    2. You are beginning to sound like Ringo.

    3. Bloody Hell,
      that's going a bit far.

      Anyway he didn't delegate, he hid.

  9. I was at school that day. I was not as early as usual because I had played a St Patrick's Day gig the night before. I parked my car in the usual place. It's an older red car; parked in the furtherest park from HQ. It has a broken wing mirror that I patched up. Parked close to old C Block. Sitting there, almost looking inconsequential...

    1. Oh yes I was going to mention that to you.

      Do you think it is proper, for a person of your mana, who plays the bloody karakia every Wednesday morning, to be associated with such a pile of rusting rubbish?

  10. I'm sorry, I've just got very distracted by the idea of sexual tensions n Furtheron's wife.

    's school, I mean.

  11. Furtheron?

    What tensions?

    Did miss something salaceous?

    God, I must really be tired.

  12. I was just getting into it. What happened next??

    1. I'm sorry Jenny, I'll complete it over this weekend.

      Just wanted to keep up the element of suspense.

    2. Yes you are good at doing that TSB. Just don't make it six months this time please. Thank You.

    3. Think of it as advanced and extended foreplay.

  13. I'm glad I wasn't tempted to read the more recent post - this needs to be read in the proper order. Your day seems to be going well. What could possibly go wrong?
    I'll be back in a few minutes for part two. Too much excitement to read in one go.

    1. Getting the timing right is always difficult, but I know you can do it Trish.

      PS I recommend a small nightcap before part two, but seeing as I'm answering this comment AFTER I've replied to your comment on Part Two, I fear I may be too late.

      This feels a little weird.

  14. The wrong school? LOL Now that's a new one.

    1. It's happened before, and it will happen again.

      Normally a combination of stoned parent/uncle whatever and a start at a new school.

      or as the Mum told me over the phone:
      q. He's a bloke and wouldn't ask for directions.
      2. He's a bloke and DOESN'T LISTEN PROPERLY TO WIFELY INSTRUCTIONS (That last bit was shouted down the phone)


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