Teaching Vocation

I knew I wanted to teach. Saw visions of those shining faces, looking up at me with awe. I saw their twinkling eyes and avid expressions , hungry for inspiration and creative regeneration; hands flying in the air, keen to share their new found insight on the freshly open doors to the world of emotionally literate education.
I stand in my new year 11 classroom, a student shouting 'You're pathetic!' from the back of the room, to congratualtory jeers and sniggers. I am articualutely communicating my mobile rules of the classroom, continually, batting away the incessant 'Are you new Miss?', 'Are you a new teacher?', 'What's your first name?', 'Is it Miss or Mrs, Miss?' from towering sixteen year olds, behaving like a night on the town after a rugby triumph. 'Did you used to teach at public school?', 'I think you'd be better at primary, Miss - did you used to teach at primary?' I am told I am covering things they've 'done before' and 'already know' ; plus they aren't doing P.E.E but P.Q.A and refuse to accept it's the same thing.

The battle has begun. Again.

After a hideous qualifying year two years ago, I have changed schools, hopefully, for the last time. Not dissatisfied with classes that didn't hold up to my rose-tinted spectacled idyll - or with the changing attitude of today's youth : challenging, afraid of change, defensive and often verablly aggressive - but because in coping with the present classroom environment I've been wondering where the essential backbone of the department is, or of the school - in asserting its staff and teaching brigade so they are equipped and prepared for the frontline when the bell tolls.
After filling out my ten referrals for continual disruption, rudeness to staff and for uncooperative behaviour, despite a clear warning system, my head of department patted me on the back, told me I was doing the right thing and took the worst offenders off me to ring their parents immediately, saying " If they try and front up to you they are fronting up to the whole department - and they'll never win." No, the reason for most movement these days is the sometimes elusive search for department and school cohesion, approachable management, a friendly smile in the hallway inbetween lessons, someone asking you if everything is okay and 'how did it go?'
In 'progressing' to a 'business-like' attitude to school we seem to have forgotten that we're in an emotional and hugely hormonal environment, with children from all walks of life, with their lives often in a constant state of flux themselves; we're not in an automative, hierarchial office pigeon hole where emotions can be left at the receptionists desk with the days agenda - to be picked up again on the way out hte door. School is where teachers need to make a thousand and one spur-of-the-moment decisions, have responsibility of 10-32 highly charged children each hour, all at once, each with their own agenda and still have the capacity to play 'professional' for all sundry and purposes. We need to feel our backs are covered, that we are not only in control of our classroom, but that the children know it too, so we can deal with anything they throw at us with every scenario thought out in advance and facilities to deal with it; especially in our 'inclusive' climate.
I calmly let the 'pathetic' remark wash over me, ironic smile intact; how many times have I been here, and will I be here in the future?
Cool as a cliche cucumber I wait patiently for silence. Nothing to see here, no cracks, no performance - no visual and available buttons to press for future use. though they are trying very hard to find them. I remind myself of the two thirds of the class who are writing in their books, working silently, following the instructions and task, however reluctantly for some. I am, today, armed with knowledge of support beyond the classroom and action immediately after the lesson, i have secret ammunition that they won't feel the heat of until later, when they are detached from the group, more vulnerable, perhaps at home. I even leave the lesson, smiling, calm, patient that things will improve gradually. And ironic because as the prime candidates sneer at me on the way out the door, though they don't know it yet, I have won this battle today - and the classroom will be mine, not theirs - not this time.