Teaching practicum, day eleven: creepy-emo-girl.

Hmm, so many grammar and spelling mistakes in that last post. Frustration, exhaustion, et cetera.

Practicum has been good the last few days, relatively. I really quite like all the people I'm working with and learning from - people that I hope to end up teaching alongside at some point in my teaching career, as unlikely as that may be. I like the sense of community, even just within the walls of our faculty staffroom.

I think the thing that has gotten me through teaching prac has been the discussions/bitch sessions I've had on the couches with one science teacher or another; a bit of a debrief after a class helped a lot with coping. It has been a tough few weeks and it's just been so draining. I think I can say that teaching is harder than I thought it was, but it's something I still very much want to do. My uni supervisor said to me that teaching isn't easy, but a good teacher is one that makes it look so.

Anyway, today things with that creepy girl got worse. I was headed back to the staffroom from the canteen at lunch when the creepy-emo-girl from year eight came up to me brandishing an eight-by-ten of that Big Brother tosser she's obsessed with. She held it beside me face and remarked on how much I look like him, which I DON'T. So I did a polite version of a whatever, and just as I turned she put her arms around me. I was all, FUCKING GET AWAY FROM ME FUCKING CREEPY-EMO-GIRL. Well, I didn't quite say that, but I was thinking it. And I couldn't push her away because I couldn't move my arms - that's how she held me - so I did my best to wriggle out, and I pretty much scarpered. One of my year eleven chemistry students saw what happend and asked me if I was okay or if I needed any help, which was nice of him.

When I got back, I told my cooperating teacher about it. Apparently I was meant to say to creepy-emo-girl that it was inappropriate et cetera, which I would have said if I wasn't so CREEPED OUT.

It didn't end there. At the end of day, creepy-emo-girl cornered me by the front gate. I tried to cross the road to get away from her, but she followed. And get this: she told me she loved me, several times over. LIKE, OHMIGOD WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, BITCH? Once someone had picked her up, I called the other science prackie on my mobile from the bus stop. I was freaking out a little at this stage, and she told me I should probably tell someone about it. I ended up going back to the staffroom and telling my head and my cooperating teachers. Actually I think at that moment, I was more worried about covering my arse. You know, being male teacher, child protection laws and all that jazz. If somehow I pissed creepy-emo-girl off or if her parents got the shits and a complaint was made, it'd forever be on my record - it'd stick to me - despite it all being absolutley INSANE. And that'd kill my teaching career before it began.

I got some support from the other teachers, and some accompanying jokes at my expense too. My cooperating teacher asked if I wanted at escort off the school grounds. Har-di-har. She also couldn't help but say I-told-you-so, too. See, she picked it on the first day when creepy-emo-girl initially approached me. Apparently, she sensed something strange afoot. Then again, it was suggested that creepy-emo-girl might just be a normal teenager, but just trying to rile me up. If that was her motive, well then it worked.

In suppose that in my own ego-fuelled way, I was kind of hoping I'd get a few girls crushing on me. But not like this. It was flattering at first but now it's just, you know, shudders. Luckily I won't have year eight again in any great measure. I don't think many of them will turn up on Thursday afternoon.


Listening to:
Title: Silence
Artist: Gomez
Album/station: Split The Difference (2004)
Length: 2.55