Catching up



Tuesday 14th October 2008
2pm. The headmaster from my kids’ junior school has just called me with a rather bizarre request. Their English teacher has left and he would like to know if I would do the job. It is only 3 hours a week. Can I pop in and see him at four when I pick up the kids.

4pm. Monsieur P explains he would like the children to learn from an English person so they speak with a better accent. I tell him they would all have a Yorkshire accent. The onus is on talking he says, rather than grammar. I don’t explain that this is good as I am from the “let’s not teach grammar/freedom of expression” school years as no doubt anybody with any sense of grammar will have already realised. But I do explain that I have no teaching qualifications whatsoever (unless it is something that is passed down in the genes), and no experience either. I suggest several other British mothers who would be better suited, ie ones who are actually qualified teachers or have done TEFL.

“What did he say to that?” my partner asks on my return.
“He said they didn’t speak French as well as I did and he thought I would be good because I was calm and soft.”
“He actually said calm and soft?”
“Tranquille et doué” I respond.
“Doué doesn’t mean soft,” my 11 year old pipes in laughing. “Doux means soft, doué means capable.“
“The others must speak French really badly,” suggests my encouraging partner. “So what did you say?”
“I said I didn’t know if I’d be able to do it.”
“And he said?”
“He said I could think about it and let him know on Thursday and they also need somebody at two of the other schools in the valley.”



Wednesday October 2nd 2008

No school on Wednesday for the Junior schools and High school is just the morning. Day spent driving kids to activities. 6 year old goes to climbing at 10.30am.

In car on way home decide definitely going to say ‘no’ to teaching. Don’t think I could do it.

Eldest to handball at midday.

In car on way home decide maybe I should take on the challenge and at least try it. I’d be letting the headmaster down if I say ‘No’. Guilt appeals to me.

‘Don’t you think you've done enough bending over backwards to try to fit in’ self-conscious retorts, ‘you don’t have to say yes.’
‘I know but I would be letting him down and it could be good for me, you know a challenge - see if I could do it. ‘
Self conscious: “don’t you think you’ve got enough on.”
Guilt: “It’s only 3 hours a week and I would only do our school.”

In car on the way home decide will do it.

4.30pm take Middle child to climbing.

In car on way home decide too much on. Definitely going to say ‘No’..


Thursday 16th October 2008

Tell Headmaster (Monsieur P) I’ll do it but only at this school. Would rather see how it goes first. Tells me something about my children being well brought up and therefore I’ll be okay.
“So you’ve got a job based on our behaviour?” says eldest that night.
“Well sort of, I suppose.” Think: Good job he’s not taught youngest yet.
“So don’t you think we should get a cut then?” he smiles nodding.
I explain that if I subtracted an amount for the work I’d put into bringing them up he’d be out of pocket.
I am to start next Tuesday.


Monday 20th October 2008

Spend morning working on chalet bookings, accounts and procrastinating doing prep for class. Spend rest of day prepping for an hour and a half tomorrow. Have made lots of worksheets. I have no programme, so am going to teach what I think they need to know. But thought we’d start with the usual my name is. I have back up worksheets of like and don’t like and food pictures for cutting and gluing for emergency use.


Middle child to gym after school. Go over some of my ideas with eldest and check I am saying the right things in French.


Tuesday 21st October 2008

First English lesson: Complete nightmare.

Only a small school of four classes and two year groups to each class. First class is 7 and 8 year olds. 8 year olds have already done a year of English and 7 year olds have done none. Work I have brought is way over their heads. Completely out of control. Move onto emergency gluing and sticking within 5 minutes of starting class. Madame X’s face is rather white.
Will tell headmaster mistake can’t do it.
Expect next class of 9 and 10 year olds to be worse. Middle child in this class.
Surprizingly next class goes really well. Work sheets are the right level. Children listen and put up their hand when they have a question. Actually enjoy it. Wait for feedback from Middle child.
He tells me it was okay as he passes me on his way to lunch.
Discuss first class with their teacher and decide to split the class and take each year group separately in the library.

Accompany youngest child’s class to swimming pool that afternoon and learn from her teacher that 7 year old class is a difficult group. She is glad she no longer has them. She suggests videos. Monsieur P suggests colouring.


Thursday 23rd October 2008

Find out from middle child that youngest child was in trouble at school for kicking Hugo because he wouldn’t let her in goals. Am reminded about first and only time Eldest child was in trouble. It was for letting his ruler drop on the floor. And Middle child was heart broken when he lost a point for throwing a snowball at somebody who’d thrown one at him. Youngest child is payback.
Youngest child tells me shes had a bad day. She was also in trouble for talking. I ask what happened. She tells me she was talking to Louis whilst the ‘maitress’ was reading.
“But,” she says rolling her eyes and looking exasperated. “I can listen and talk at the same time.”


Friday 24th October 2008

Come better prepared for Nightmare class. Are going to do numbers and a song. All kids talking so explain calmly they must be quiet and if they have something to ask they must raise their hand.

Start with numbers then go over the song. Simplest song I can find. 1 little 2 little 3 little Indians. Looked at lots of songs but not many of them much use. When would they ever use “buckle my shoe and pick up sticks” And of course one is often heard recounting how they caught a fish alive?! Could say the same for Indians but at least they may learn the numbers.

As soon as the music starts 3 of the kids jump up out of their chairs and start to dance. I turn off the music and get strict. They go quiet then P raises his hand.
He’s lost the top of his glue stick.
I explain this is not important right now and we start again.
Then V raises his hand. B has taken her pen lid.
E raises her hand. She has a piano at home.
Explain they must only raise their hands if it is important.
We go over the numbers and restart.
V raises his hand mid song and starts waving it furiously. Can’t risk missing desperate toilet request so ask him what’s wrong.
Tells me I sing really well.
I realise I am actually the only one singing. The children are all talking amongst themselves. Time up and the kids are all disappointed the lesson has to end, no doubt because their free time is over. They give me big smiles when they leave.

Nice canteen lady stops to say hello at the end of the lesson. She has been listening to the lesson whilst preparing the canteen for lunch. “you poor thing” she says. “They are a very difficult class.” There is some talk between the other canteen ladies about the previous English teacher and I think I hear the word nervous breakdown but I’m probably looking for it.

Things go a bit better with the 8 year olds and the 9 and 10 are noisy but we get a lot done. The Headmaster tells me there is a punishment point system that I must use. They were rather noisy but I need them to talk, maybe not all at once.
Think I must find some compromise.
Middle Child gives me a smile and a quick kiss after everybody leaves the class. Assume this means class went okay.


See Beatrice on the way out. She is the teacher of the first class and over the 10 years we have lived here we have become good friends. She had all 3 of my children for 2 years. She asks me how things are going and tells me that Coralie, a teacher who taught my eldest two but has since moved schools wants to know if I would teach her class English. I didn’t need to take on the whole school she says, just her class. Feeling egotistical I say yes.


Saturday 25th October 2008

Saturday afternoon is football matches. Last year football fanatic partner ended up helping out at matches for Eldest child’s team so I always went to watch Middle child’s games. This season occasionally swap but both got used to our teams. Eldest child is away and Middle child at home. Youngest child (tom boy) always comes with me. Normally she gets bored but this time there is a 7 year old boy to play football with.

3-3 with minutes to go and opposition get a breakaway ball (sorry I have no idea about football) and are heading for open goal. Middle child rockets down the pitch at super speed and tackles. Fantastic. Whoop with joy then remember am not allowed to shout out. Youngest child tells me off. English embarrassing, French even more so.

7 year old boy asks me if youngest child is a girl, adding, ‘she’s very good at football’.

Youngest child looks like a girl, but prefers boys’ clothes. The 12 boys in her class of 16 were divided for quite some time. Some believed she was a boy and others who had been told she was a girl, let her get away with it because “she wasn’t a real one.”


Monday 27th October 2008

Seems Monsieur’s P’s recommendations are enough to overcome qualifications even in a country where English teachers from the UK fail to become English teachers in France, (although I believe it isn't quite so strict for part-time teachers for junior schools) and I am to go to the town hall to sign a contract and attend a meeting to talk about the timetable for other schools.

I can’t get my motorbike to start and turn up 5 minutes late in jeans, pink jumper, leather jacket and helmet under my arm. The room is a wash of beige: five ladies, immaculately dressed, as most French women are, with make up and wonderful hair dos. I have helmet hair.

I say bonjour and take a seat, they are mid conversation. Nice lady next to me asks me in a whisper how things are going. Tell her I think it’s going okay. Yes, she tells me Monsieur P. thinks you’re genial. I think Madame X would not agree but don’t say anything. Nice lady turns out to be in charge of meeting and asks me if I have time to take on any other schools. I say no, but Coralie Cornell has asked me if I could take her class.

I immediately upset one of the beige ladies who says, well that’s fine by her if Madame C prefers it if I take her class rather than her. Nice lady jumps in to the rescue and says they need two teachers at the same time.

Portable goes. Eldest singing theme tune to the Simpsons. Turn it off and hope that there is no emergency anywhere. Next hour is spent working out when myself, beige English teacher and beige Italian teacher are available, in order to split two classes, to teach at the same time. Finally agree a time and first day to be December 2nd. They move on to something else so I get up and say goodbye.

Motorbike won’t start but nice partner who has dropped of Middle child at gym has waited in town to see if it would. Pushes me down the pavement and I jump start my bike outside the town hall just as the wash of beige comes out the door.


Tuesday 28th October 2008

Am doing the numbers 1, 2 and 3 with Nightmare class. We’re doing it in lots of different colours.

Spent an hour making happy family cards in colours and animals for 8 year olds.

Doing body parts and aches with Middle child’s class. Figure they could practice when they come across an injured English skier. Middle child tells me the class was too noisy and I wasn’t strict enough. One boy in particular is a problem. Middle child tells me I should send him out. Monsieur P does.



Thursday 30th October 2008

Get cross with nightmare class and send two children back to Madam X. Find them crying at break as they have to write out five times they must behave in English. Feel terribly guilty and tell them when I was a child we had to do it 100 times.

Get cross with Problem child in Middle child’s class. Figure 3 warnings is enough and send him out. Problem child starts to cry and begs me not too send him out. Don’t give in and send him out. Middle child tells me I was too strict.