A TEACHER'S NIGHTMARE | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: A TEACHER'S NIGHTMARE | Previous Challenge Entry
By simon davis
01/25/18
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I entered the laboratory with a heavy heart. Year 9 last period on Monday were the absolute pits. I had just spent the previous minutes clearing numerous pieces of paper, four pens, an eraser, a power pack, a voltmeter, two lengths of insulated wire, various cardboard folders, three crocodile clips and Jill’s half-filled teacup off the benches. Never before had I shared a lab with somebody who was so untidy. Half of the students were in the lab, standing around in small groups exchanging social chitchat. The rest were nowhere to be seen, even though the bell had gone over five minutes ago. I stuck my head out of the door. A few students were lounging around outside, others were fooling around on the staircase, playing with one another’s bags. “Come along, you lot,” I joked, “it’ll soon be Tuesday”. I had long since given up ranting and raving at them. It accomplished nothing except wear me out. One or two heads deigned to turn in my direction. “Yes, it’s you I’m talking to.” I nodded, “Will you please come into class so that we can start the lesson?” You must use the polite, non-confrontational approach these days, all the experts tell you, so I had resorted to doing this. In the good old days, it would have been “GET INTO CLASS OR I’LL KEEP THE LOT OF YOU IN AFTER SCHOOL!!!”

Five minutes later everyone was inside and sitting down, more or less in the correct places. Several bags were still on benches and the chitchat was continuing. “Please can we all get our things out ready to start?” I pleaded. It was necessary to be vague about this request as these kids didn’t have books. No textbooks, another result of modern, enlightened educational thinking. No exercise books, either. Give them out countless handouts and pieces of paper for writing on and watch half of them lose it all within a week. Still the chat continued. I decided to use the individual approach and walked up to two of the chatterers.

“Alan and Chris, what are you going to write your work on?”

“Do we have to work today?” The response came out from a mouth full of chewing gum.

“How many times have I told you not to chew gum in class?” I countered, my frustration growing by the second. “Please spit it out in the bin.”

“Where’s the bin?” came the predictable response.

I looked round frantically. No bin to be seen. Perhaps that explained Jill’s using the bench tops for all the rubbish. “Oh, give it to me, then,” I sighed, holding out my hand, eyes moving in all directions to locate something to keep the gooey mess off my skin. Ah, Jill’s teacup. Just the job.

“Now, is everybody listening?” (Some hope, I groaned inwardly). “Can anyone remember what we were talking about yesterday?”

“We didn’t have Physics yesterday,” piped up a voice from the back of the room.

I thought rapidly. “OK, can anyone remember what we were talking about last lesson?” Silence. Eight heads were still not even looking in my direction. One boy was miming a rock-and-roll tune, swaying from side to side on his stool.

I seized the opportunity.

“Jonny, what can you remember about the lever?”

“Isn’t it the largest organ in the body or something?”

“Ha-ha, very funny, but this is Physics, not Biology.” I was starting to sweat profusely. “Can we all remember the experiment with the weights and the metre rules?” I was now getting desperate, resorting to leading questions. A hand shot up. A response at last!

“Please can I go to the bathroom?”

“No, you’ve only just come in after a fifty-minute break.

“But I need to go”

“Then you’ll just have to cross your legs for the rest of the lesson”

I decided to try a change of tack.

“Right, we’ll continue with your presentations. David, please will you come out to the front? You did your project on Einstein, didn’t you?”

... Thirty minutes later I slammed the classroom door behind me in fury.

“These Year 9’s are unteachable! They just won’t shut up and listen. Whatever am I supposed to do with them?”

“Oh, they’re only kids,” piped up Veronica, a teaching colleague. “I came across much worse when I was working in London”.

I just stared back at her, lost for words.

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