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Wednesday, July 10, 2013

What would happen if teachers started acting like the kids?

                                  Kyles the music teacher.

Watching the school children cavorting in the playground today started me thinking about what it would be like if we teachers began acting like kids.

Cue dream sequence music…

Kyles, our music teacher would play imaginary hop-scotch on her way to the classroom whilst Rach would gallop like a My Little Pony, whinnying and neighing with conviction. 


                                            Rach

J.B would artfully sneak up behind Greggles, slap him vigorously on the back and yell ‘Tagged ya!’ then tear off down the path with Greggles madly in pursuit, pushing all the small teachers over in the process.

Greggles

                                            J.B.

None of us would walk sanely anywhere; we’d skip, hop, walk sideways or backwards. There’d be no treading carefully around flower beds but instead we’d use every obstacle as a Jana Pittman-type challenge meant to be hurdled with great aplomb then spin around to our colleagues and shout,

“Did ya see that??? Suck it up, loser!”

In the staffroom at lunch time, Emmsie would remove the surplus tomato from her salad roll and flick it at unsuspecting colleagues.


                                   Emmsie
 Kaz would throw her empty juice popper on the ground, jump on it forcefully and create a resounding explosion startling everyone in the vicinity and causing them to scatter the contents of their chip packets all over the ground. These would be jumped on and trodden into smithereens by all of the other teachers.

                                         Kaz

Some teachers would throw entire, meticulously packed and untouched lunches in the bin and drip chocolate ice blocks all over the front of their shirts. All of us would have the outline of whatever food we’d been eating staining the outside of our lips, like Bozo the clown, for the rest of the day.

In staff meetings, after delivering crucial information regarding the new Literacy Program, our Principal would ask a question, anxiously hoping that someone…anyone… had been paying attention.

O’Reilly would be the first to raise his hand. Pleased to see such a prompt and eager response she would excitedly ask,

“Yes, O’Reilly, what question do you have about our literacy program?”

“Can I please go to the toilet, Miss?” he’d answer.

(O’Reilly would be allowed to go to the toilet but he’d become distracted and not return for half an hour; deciding it was more fun to spread toilet paper all over the floor of the boys’ dunny.)
                                         O'Reilly

Pinky would slowly raise her hand looking very self-assured.

“Yes Pinky… what do you think?” the Principal would enquire.

Pinky’s eyes would glaze over, “I forgot...” She’d say after a confused thirty seconds.


                                           Pinky
From the corner of her eye the Principal would finally spot Emmsie with both hands up in the air.

“Emmsie! What’s your answer?” she’d ask optimistically.

“I was just stretching, Miss.” Emmsie would reply scratching her head.

Kyles wouldn’t have heard any of it because she would have been braiding Kaz’s hair and Greggles would have been surreptitiously whistling under his breath just to annoy everyone.

Rach would suddenly burst in to tears. “What’s the matter, Rach?” The principal would ask in alarm.

“My chicken died last year, Miss… I just remembered,” she’d sob while Greggles sniggered at her, making her cry even louder.

O’Reilly would let off a ‘silent but deadly’ and the entire group would start groaning, covering their noses and shuffling away in feigned panic.

The principal would be trying to restore calm when JB would shout out brazenly,

“Miss! I just found a funny jumping ant in my hair.”

That’s what would happen if teachers started acting like the kids.