New Brooms

I hate these dos.

‘Bonding’ he calls them. ‘Gives us a chance to meet socially and interact.’ He’s full of crap! Look at him, new designer suit, matching shirt and tie, shoes you could see your face in!
What does he know? More like who does he know!
What difference does he think he can make here?

He’s not the first to think he can make his mark, and he won’t be the last.

End of term. THANK GOD. Most of us want to get away early, forget the place. Try and get a bit of quality time with the family, not much chance of that during term time!

Sounds like sour grapes doesn’t it?

I’ve had my chances, went for lots of interviews. Always in the wrong place at the wrong time, or right place but wrong time. Face never seemed to fit! I suppose I’m just not that good at sucking up to others. Not like him. The ‘golden boy’.

‘Let’s have a buffet.’ He said, ‘Trish, will you organise it?’

Smile, ‘Of course. I’ll send a note round see what everyone wants to contribute.’ Always wanting to be nice. Don’t know why; wish she’d say what she really feels sometimes.

He made such a good impression with the governors. Good suit, shiny shoes, right answers.
They should have chosen Trish. She’s been here forever. Knows everyone. Knows what’s needed. Everyone likes, and respects, her. She doesn’t look the part though. Too ‘frumpy’ I suppose, too old. Hasn’t done the circuit, been on the courses.
Whereas he, well he ‘looks’ right and his face is known. He’s also got the ‘spiel’.

I hate these dos, especially since he came.

We used to just go to the pub, a few drinks and a bar snack, enough bonding for me. But no, he decided it would be better if we had our end of term dos here. Can you imagine anything worse! Constant reminders of the ‘day job’ and no chance to wash off the chalk dust. He doesn’t even bring the wine, says it’s not allowed. Mean git!
 

His first week here he did the interviews. ‘So I can get to know your strengths and weaknesses,’ he said. More like find the chinks find the levers, divide and rule was his way. ‘Your records tell me that you’ve been in charge of the maths department for six years now. And let me see, when was the last time you went on a refresher course? Lots of new initiatives have come in you know. I’ll put you down for one at the Teacher’s Centre next month. We’ll review your situation then.
Maybe you might like to take on another area of responsibility! Jake’s well up to speed with the new demands of the maths curriculum. Have you had any thoughts about applying for promotion, not that we want to lose you but it’s not good to stay in one place for too long? My longest appointment was three years.’

I knew what he meant. Didn’t think I was doing a great job and it was about time I moved on.
I’m too old for that now!

I hate these dos.

Quiche, crisps, sausage rolls, cooked meats, baguettes, wallpaper paste cheesecakes, most of it the cheapest you can get from Iceland. With not a glass of wine in sight to make it more palatable! And he’s sitting there smiling indulgently, like some great potentate.

‘I want my school to make a mark. To be held up as an example of how a good school is run,’ he’d said at my interview. I’d noticed immediately the reference to ‘his’ school. I could see which way the wind was blowing. We were just a stepping stone to his further aggrandisement.

They’re there, the sycophants, hanging onto his every word, smiling and agreeing with whatever he says. Jake’s at his feet, licking his boots almost. He knows how to get on.
In my day ability and professionalism counted, not being able to ‘talk the talk’.
I don’t really blame him, who’d want to stay here, and in this job, for thirty years. Get on and get out would be my advice.

I see Alice has filled up her plate again. I don’t know where she puts it. Must be living on her nerves I suppose. The amount she puts away she should be the size of a house! I wouldn’t like her class though, load of psychos and that Gary, if he’s not in a secure unit before he’s sixteen then there’s no justice in this world.

He’s never brought his wife or children to school. Old Mike, the last head, was a real family man. We knew all about them, what they did at school, where they went for holidays, everything. This one’s a real enigma. We know he’s got a wife and two kids but that’s it. I suspect that he’s got secrets, things he wants to hide.

I hate these dos.

I’ve just caught Trish’s eye. She is the supreme professional and would never say anything that was in any way critical of the ‘boss’. But I know that she’s had enough, that she plans to take early retirement next year. Something she let slip after that last staff meeting. I don’t think anyone else noticed, she looked as though she could have bitten out her tongue.

I like the job well enough and when I’m in the classroom with the kids I still get that ‘buzz’. It’s not a feeling of power; it’s more like a sharing of life’s experiences, of knowledge, which is quite often a two way process. I must say I’ve learnt a lot from the kids over the years.
But how do you put that on a tick sheet.
How do you assess that?

I don’t believe it its not even four thirty yet. Unless you’ve got a good excuse you’re expected to stay till about five. Can I face another sausage roll?

Bonding he calls it. There aren’t many of them I’d want to bond with, least of all him. ‘Call me Jerry’ he’d said at that first staff meeting, ‘No standing on ceremony. We are after all a team with the same goal in mind!’ He never made it completely clear what that goal was although the school’s ‘Mission Statement’ – what a ridiculous expression – has all the right words in it.

I hate these dos!

Since ‘Jerry’ came the place has changed beyond recognition. He came with a huge influx of money, failing schools apparently warrant this, we’ve been painted and cleaned and curtained and the state of the art computer suite is the envy of all other schools in the area. I must admit that I do like some of the changes, the kids just love their time in the computer room and the place does look better.
I suppose really its just him! He is such a prat, full of his own self-importance, basking in the ‘adulation’ he gets from some members of staff. You’d think educated people would see right through him.

Maybe I’m seeing too much and should give him a chance, or give him enough rope!

We’ve made a good dent in the food, although I’m not sure I should have had that last sausage roll.
A few of us are meeting up at the pub later, out of courtesy we asked him, knowing he would refuse.
I might try and get Trish on her own and find out what her plans really are.

Oh I see Jan is taking what’s left of the ham she bought, a sure sign it’s time to go.

I hate these dos!