Hats and handbooks
Hats are back in fashion.
Too many months have passed since I last updated this blog, but in spite of the second term being short, it dragged more than Long John Silver after he lost his wooden leg. It continued to be busy with Colonel Blimp treating us as if we were a bunch of scattered-brained children who had decided that the start of exams marked the start of the hols. even though some of us still had classes to teach.
The first obsession was hats. Everyone has to have a hat, although I already had three and they’re all important. The colonel wanted to take the EE away from me, but Sarasvati wasn’t having any of it, it’d make no sense, and my proposed heir refused the job. I’m also still the teacher-librarian for official purposes even though Mr Droopy was meant to be taking that over, but he doesn’t know what he’s doing and doesn’t understand the honorary nature of the role.
Mrs Blimp got one of the other important hats, which attributes to her efficiency, but it could also be because she’s the only person who’s had ToK training. As a side note, she’s another example of cronyism, which continues in spite of Vlad’s departure last year. In some respects, she took over from the Lone-Star Kid, who started out as the beast of burden for Colonel Blimp’s schemes. He thinks he’s a great leader, but he’s making that fundamental mistake of giving the “best” people all sorts of extra tasks without asking himself whether it’s just a bit too much.
Lincoln Green has never had any official training even though he’s been primarily teaching ToK for about three years or so. He, on the other hand, has been made an HoD, but will be wholly in my department as far as his actual teaching goes. He’s also dropped CAS, which has gone to Bob in the next office.
So as a result of all this, everyone is some sort of co-ordinator, which obviously leads to much mockery, there being a whole list of petty things that could fall under someone’s purview.
The other mania, which started last term, was handbooks for everything. I think I’ve been responsible for four or five of them, and although they’re largely copy-and-paste jobs, I do at least bother with formatting, which is more than I can say for Mr Droopy’s efforts. None of them are short, either. The new departmental handbook is over 50 pages, and various others have run to more than 20. The centre handbook will be over 130 pages long.
Colonel Blimp wants all of these to be taking up valuable desk space, but what is worse, I think, is that he’s prepared to sacrifice a tree or two for material which will have to be changed annually.
I don’t know where all this has come from, whether it’s from the Laird of the Glen or whether Colonel Blimp himself instigated this.
The Lone-Star Kid has gone and will not be missed. He basically left us holding the baby at the end of the term. I also happened to see his A-level class’s WAs recently and know that they’ll get some very bad marks because, it seems likely, he didn’t advise them properly. I wonder what else he also failed to do properly.
The Leprechaun has also gone. He went through another prolonged period of spleen earlier this term, and for the past year I’ve been wary of him because he’s been so unpredictable. I hope things are more to his satisfaction in his new job, but I suspect he won’t be any happier.
Rasputin is departing to plague another school in the Empire and be a jumped-up twerp (v. 2). It’ll suit his ego, no doubt.
Sarasvati ought to have gone, but I say this because remaining here will be detrimental to her health. It doesn’t help that Colonel Blimp treats her like a secretary at times. She does keep threatening to leave, but it all keeps coming back to the money.
The “graduation” ceremony at the end of the term was also the celebration of our 10th anniversary. Some former pupils, many of whom I have mostly forgotten, turned up along with some girls from my favourite class ever. This was an A-level HL class which averaged a 6. The following year, I had another A-level HL class. There were six girls I quite liked, and the rest of the class were either thick, arrogant or lazy, or some combination of these. The year after that, I had an A-level HL class that was almost entirely SL-grade pupils. Their successors were even more stupid, but less obnoxious, and their heirs will be the most stupid group we’ve ever had in the centre. I did at least manage to stop most of them doing HL, and will do the same next year.
Possibly we’ve academically bottomed out and may be able to rise a little after this. The new headmaster capped our numbers, which probably prevented a huge rump of complete imbeciles weighing us down in the future, but the damage has been done and we’re never likely to recover when there are so many better options.
The first obsession was hats. Everyone has to have a hat, although I already had three and they’re all important. The colonel wanted to take the EE away from me, but Sarasvati wasn’t having any of it, it’d make no sense, and my proposed heir refused the job. I’m also still the teacher-librarian for official purposes even though Mr Droopy was meant to be taking that over, but he doesn’t know what he’s doing and doesn’t understand the honorary nature of the role.
Mrs Blimp got one of the other important hats, which attributes to her efficiency, but it could also be because she’s the only person who’s had ToK training. As a side note, she’s another example of cronyism, which continues in spite of Vlad’s departure last year. In some respects, she took over from the Lone-Star Kid, who started out as the beast of burden for Colonel Blimp’s schemes. He thinks he’s a great leader, but he’s making that fundamental mistake of giving the “best” people all sorts of extra tasks without asking himself whether it’s just a bit too much.
Lincoln Green has never had any official training even though he’s been primarily teaching ToK for about three years or so. He, on the other hand, has been made an HoD, but will be wholly in my department as far as his actual teaching goes. He’s also dropped CAS, which has gone to Bob in the next office.
So as a result of all this, everyone is some sort of co-ordinator, which obviously leads to much mockery, there being a whole list of petty things that could fall under someone’s purview.
The other mania, which started last term, was handbooks for everything. I think I’ve been responsible for four or five of them, and although they’re largely copy-and-paste jobs, I do at least bother with formatting, which is more than I can say for Mr Droopy’s efforts. None of them are short, either. The new departmental handbook is over 50 pages, and various others have run to more than 20. The centre handbook will be over 130 pages long.
Colonel Blimp wants all of these to be taking up valuable desk space, but what is worse, I think, is that he’s prepared to sacrifice a tree or two for material which will have to be changed annually.
I don’t know where all this has come from, whether it’s from the Laird of the Glen or whether Colonel Blimp himself instigated this.
The Lone-Star Kid has gone and will not be missed. He basically left us holding the baby at the end of the term. I also happened to see his A-level class’s WAs recently and know that they’ll get some very bad marks because, it seems likely, he didn’t advise them properly. I wonder what else he also failed to do properly.
The Leprechaun has also gone. He went through another prolonged period of spleen earlier this term, and for the past year I’ve been wary of him because he’s been so unpredictable. I hope things are more to his satisfaction in his new job, but I suspect he won’t be any happier.
Rasputin is departing to plague another school in the Empire and be a jumped-up twerp (v. 2). It’ll suit his ego, no doubt.
Sarasvati ought to have gone, but I say this because remaining here will be detrimental to her health. It doesn’t help that Colonel Blimp treats her like a secretary at times. She does keep threatening to leave, but it all keeps coming back to the money.
The “graduation” ceremony at the end of the term was also the celebration of our 10th anniversary. Some former pupils, many of whom I have mostly forgotten, turned up along with some girls from my favourite class ever. This was an A-level HL class which averaged a 6. The following year, I had another A-level HL class. There were six girls I quite liked, and the rest of the class were either thick, arrogant or lazy, or some combination of these. The year after that, I had an A-level HL class that was almost entirely SL-grade pupils. Their successors were even more stupid, but less obnoxious, and their heirs will be the most stupid group we’ve ever had in the centre. I did at least manage to stop most of them doing HL, and will do the same next year.
Possibly we’ve academically bottomed out and may be able to rise a little after this. The new headmaster capped our numbers, which probably prevented a huge rump of complete imbeciles weighing us down in the future, but the damage has been done and we’re never likely to recover when there are so many better options.
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