Twizzler Anyone?

Since starting supply teaching last September, nigh on half of my work has been at Kidbrooke School in Greenwich. Now that was, and still isn't, interesting in itself, except for the fact that Kidbrooke was the test case for Jamie's School Dinners in 2006. Which is interesting. Isn't it?



Now, I've yet to venture into the food hall, so I don't know if the kids are still chowing down on "Turkey Twizzlers" or not. Sadly, I have a feeling they might be, or at least something synonymous with a twizzler.

The many faces of Mrs Lewis

When my year seven students are undertaking a test and have finished before the other students, I allow them to draw on the back of their test paper, to keep them quiet. Sometimes they draw superheroes, sometimes they draw their pets, and one kid really likes drawing pictures of tasty snack foods such as delicious steaming fruit pies. I often am lucky enough to find pictures of me- the labels help me to recognise myself. These are a couple that I found on the last set of papers I marked.

In case anyone wants to become a supply teacher?

Timetable reads:

Period 5: 9RC/ History, Room 310

Excellent! The worst class group, in the worst grade, in one of the worst subjects to cover, in the last lesson of the day (that's the worst lesson) - all in one of the worst schools I've ever taught in.

So I steeled myself. I put on my Zen jacket, and told myself that nothing would ruffle me; nothing, not even the jibes about me looking like Owen Wilson or Shaggy from Scooby Doo. Not kids jumping out windows, hitting each other over the head with bags, drinking bottles of coke, listening to iPods, saying G'day mate over and over like it's funny. Nothing. I was going to be a calm killer.

Most of these kids behave like animals. Actually, that's unfair press for animals. But you know those animals that are just jerks. Real jerks.

Despite all this, my combination of cool threats, nihilistic stares and rewarding pats (I know that all sounds mean) seemed to have an effect on them. They were noisy and horrible, but they actually did work, which is truly amazing for them, so I agreed to let them go on time.

But of course, just as I'm letting everyone go, this one kid decides to throw a handful of coloured pencils across the room. And, of course, I tell him that he's not going anywhere until he's picked them all up. "But someone threw dem at me," is his response (as it always is).

The ensuing stand-off lasts for more than 10 minutes (enough time for me to miss my bus). Finally, the kid very resentfully agrees to pick up all the pencils, and takes them over to the pencil tray. "Can I gooooo now?" he asks. "Yes, you can go now," I say ever so foolishly. He steps out the door, then turns around with the handful of pencils still in his hand, throws them on the floor and says, "There, now you pick 'em up bruv", and runs away.

Fiddle-de-dee, I say in my head.

Fiddle...de...deeeee.