The way it works

Well, I've made it through to the Easter Holidays. Here's a work rant, reflecting how intense work has been.

Head of maths they offered me. Ok I said, I'll do it. Let's forget that I'm not actually a maths teacher. Let's forget that everyone else in the department is either old and cynical, young and naive, or just doesn't care.

The first thing I noticed was the different way people talk to you. They are more sociable. Hey, why don't you ignore me like you did before? I think I preferred it that way. All those gen xers caught up with their mortgages and the weddings and their husbands and their kids and their kids soccer training. I don't care. Then they stopped telling me things I need to know, like fuck, it might reflect badly on them, or maybe I'm just supposed to know already. Finally I learnt about passive resistance. You suggest something, everyone nods, smiles and agrees. Then nothing happens. Do you confront them and become the ogre or do you just accept their sad excuses?

(I really am a pussy cat.)

It took a while, but now I understand. It would work - I could work with them, find a way forward to get around the impossible demands of administration, parents, students - but for one thing. They've given me one small piece of power. The power to allocate classes. No more honesty and openness. I can wreck their year so I shouldn't be trusted.

I hate power.