Funny, that I use the American terms at all, because I deffinately don't live there. High school and secondary school just sound better than upper and lower secondary schools. Anyway, this is the ninth grade I'm ending now and if all goes well, I'll go into the school where Nogrod teaches. :)
It *is* both sad and exciting at the same time. You're saying goodbye to that familiar environment and all the people and looking forwards to an exciting future too - that's a tough thing to do! I used to write to my old English teacher, and me and my best mate Jim used to go in to see her in the holidays from Uni.
Plus, teachers love gettign cards and that from their classes! I once taught these really, really rough 15 year old lads - I was tough as hell on them at first to make them see I didn't want any messing about, and that made them behave so after a while I relaxed and we got on with some great lessons and they were nice lads with me and made me a card at the end of my term!
I never knew you were a teacher. You always come out with something new and unexpected!
I've already lost some spectacular teachers. Miss Kilbourne, my brilliant Psych teacher, moved back to Australia. Miss Tribe, GCSE English, was honestly spectacular... she introduced me to socialism and feminism. She had an affair with an ICT teacher and moved away though... I still keep in touch with email, but not at all regularly, I haven't contacted either for months.
Yep! I trained and then did temporary work and voluntary work for the local college with mature students - this was especially cool. But was lucky not to get a permanent contract (1994 - not a good time to find a teaching job under Tory cutbacks!) as the National Curriculum was diabolical to work with and it's even worse now due to all the directives (for which I am partially to blame, such is the irony!). Never had stress from the kids, no matter how rough they were, but I met some spectacularly snobby and thick teachers alas (Doncaster's best state school still makes me shudder due to the evil science technicians....and the terrible teaching of Chaucer), and the job is INTENSE. No let up if you feel off colour, no chance for a crafty move round of your workload for the day so you can happily forget your bad head ;)
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It *is* both sad and exciting at the same time. You're saying goodbye to that familiar environment and all the people and looking forwards to an exciting future too - that's a tough thing to do! I used to write to my old English teacher, and me and my best mate Jim used to go in to see her in the holidays from Uni.
Plus, teachers love gettign cards and that from their classes! I once taught these really, really rough 15 year old lads - I was tough as hell on them at first to make them see I didn't want any messing about, and that made them behave so after a while I relaxed and we got on with some great lessons and they were nice lads with me and made me a card at the end of my term!
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I've already lost some spectacular teachers. Miss Kilbourne, my brilliant Psych teacher, moved back to Australia. Miss Tribe, GCSE English, was honestly spectacular... she introduced me to socialism and feminism. She had an affair with an ICT teacher and moved away though... I still keep in touch with email, but not at all regularly, I haven't contacted either for months.
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hmmm...I'm sure you have some good times ahead, though!
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