Occasional Tales

Can I get nothing right? I don’t like how things are going since Dr Bowman turned up. We’ve gone about four years into the past with the reappearance of adjustments to the exam marks after we (including me) recommended that such alterations be left till the very end, but now it’s all out in the open again. Madam Mao observed that we were doing something that no American university would ever see, and my preference is that we make such alterations in the background, but leave the public marks alone. I do have a formula for making such conversions, which works perfectly, but Dr Bowman insisted on reverting to conversion tables with marks of his own devising. Tables?! The reason why I devised a formula was because tables were sodding nuisances, although I also know how to circumvent the lack of a formula by using Excel to look things up for me. Bowman doesn’t listen to advice. In fact, he spends most of his time in his office, having no idea (as far as I can tell) what goes

I’m still here. With the arrival of Dr Bowman, we seem to have a much more relaxed lord-of-the-manor than we’ve had in quite some time. While Colonel Blimp had his good points, he was clearly a rather angry person who had been made to stay for an extra year. There were apparently domestic problems as well, with Mistress Blimp having an ulterior motive. The Screeching Blimpette has also gone and with two empty desks, the office is mostly quiet. After years of loud Americans, it feels as if something is missing. Oh, that’s not to say we don’t have a bit of a laugh at times and can chat freely without worrying whether the Leprechaun might be in a stroppy mood, but some life has gone out of the place. We’re on our last two years of the IB programme, which does give the place an end-of-days feel to it. It’s also certain that the Sluggard will be leaving at the end of this year, and Lincoln Green is strongly inclining to depart. I myself don’t know whether I want to try and fi

Hat in the ring… Er, no. I did think about applying to be DP co-ordinator until a massive migraine reminded me of what was likely to happen if I did get the job. Well, that and the fact that I’d be nothing more than a caretaker, seeing out the programme before I went back to being a teacher. If I was younger, I might’ve considered this as a career move, but it wouldn’t be that now and would thus serve no useful purpose in my life. There’s also a lot to learn which, I think, would take me five years to get the hang of, and I could do without having to deal with any reaccreditations. I was also relieved to know that Screeching Susan had got a job elsewhere, having decided not to apply for the post because she’d lose on the deal. The school wanted to keep the job in house, which means that as Mr Bradford decided not to bother, the Father of the House will get the job instead, which is for the best.

It is a far, far better thing I do now. We’ve already replaced Colonel Blimp with Colonel Blimp Mk. II (i.e., another AP sort with, in all likelihood, no IB experience), hence that post didn’t get advertised. The Screeching Blimpette was meant to be leaving, but with Sarasvati departing, she’s apparently decided to apply for the post of DP Co-ordinator with Colonel Blimp’s backing. (In fact, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if this encouragement was quite deliberate; the misguided favouritism of Vlad’s day is still alive and kicking.) This has caused consternation to the point that although I don’t expect to be successful (beyond applying), I’m going to apply for the job myself. Mr Bradford and I have both been talking about doing this, and I’ve had Reggaeman ask me to throw my hat in the ring. As I said, I’m not expecting to get very far, especially if (as I hope) someone with proper experience applies, but the Blimpette’s sole qualification is her belief that she’s qualifie

Is this stupidity I see before me? Our numbers are way down, but this is, it appears, because of limits on the number of morons the school is allowed to recruit. At the moment, we don’t know whether the IB programme will survive. There are other factors involved and no resolution for the moment. But even if the programme does live to fight another day, the numbers will be tiny because the days of 120+ schoolchildren have become history. In all likelihood, it won’t survive, which is when I have to decide whether it’s worth persevering with an English programme with no official exams, or whether I try to find a post in an international school where the IB programme is a proper sort of affair. (We do try to follow the principles of the IBO as best we can, but in truth, we’re up against because the DP programme only works effectively at international schools; it doesn’t really work with imperial citizens.) I do what I can with my department, but it’s like herding deranged stray cats