The Hit Squad (at least it's for a good cause...)

Another busy day in the Life of Meg.

First off, everyone is very excited about the Olympics coming to London (if you didn't read yesterday's update, scroll down--the pictures are fabulous). There is a definite feeling of, "In your face, France!" The English and the French don't have the most friendly of histories, you see. And after President Chirac's recent comment about British food, and their European contribution of...mad cow disease, well, it's safe to say that many an Englishperson is quietly gloating that Paris did not get the Olympics.

Secondly, it is so much more relaxed around her because the inspectors are gone!! A big sigh of relief and a much more relaxed atmosphere. The bad news is the school is not yet out of special measures. A lot of people were optimistic and hoping we would be, but it did not happen. Though the first comment from the inspectors was, "Nearly there!" Looks like they'll be out by Christmas, and that's a good thing.

Now, my time with Her Majesty's Inspectors (HMI) is done. And I am glad. Every time they have come, they have observed a music lesson. It's not that bad because I think I do some good lessons and I have a firm grip on my behaviour policy. I'm consistent with it 95% of the time, I'd say, and I can't control what some of the kids do. For example, a kid yelling an obscenity or telling me I'm out of order is only something I can respond to, not prevent.

The lesson they saw this time was Wednesday first lesson, and that is a top-set class with 18 great kids, 3 pretty good kids and 3 difficult kids. The three difficult kids often try to wrest the remote control from my fingers and that is a problem.

(In one of my credential classes my professor told us never to let the kids get the remote control and change the channel. The teacher should always have control. I've never forgotten that, and I love the analogy.)

I was nervous when the lady came in but my kids were great. Even Marc, who has a tendency, when my back is turned, to turn the CD player on, crank up the volume to full-blast, and run. He's a quick little shit. I've taken to making sure on Wednesday morning that I have no CDs in the player. At least for that lesson.

Enough about the kids, though...

Still no call from this bloke from last weekend, but I'm not too bothered, really. A few of the gals here at school think I should call him but I'm a firm believer in letting the guy do the work in this case. I'm backed on this by a male co-teacher and a book (written by a man) called, "He's Just Not That Into You."

Believe me, if this guy wants to talk to me, he'll phone.

And if he doesn't, well, that's fine, because even when I met him I thought, "I only have a month left in England!" Even in a drunken haze.

I'm too fabulous to sit by the phone and wait for him to call, too. This month is packed with fun stuff. Tomorrow night I'm going out with the gals in Burnham (just to the pubs, a relaxed, non-clubbing type thing), and I have many other things to look forward to in the next month.

In the mean time, however, I've got the Hit Squad coming around today, and slaves in my classroom.

This week at St. Peter's is Pete's Week, an annual fund-raising week sponsored by the Sixth Form. All proceeds go to charity. So far this week there's been a slave auction (hence the reason I have Sixth Form "slaves" coming in my room with excited year 7s who outbid everyone to get them) and penalty shoot-outs, a concert by a year 11 band called Obsidian, and many others. After school today, my fellow year 12 mentor Stuart is getting soaked in the dunking tank and I've agreed to sing in tomorrow's Talent Show.

As for the Hit Squad, kids could pay 50p to have the Hit Squad come to their class today, take a friend outside, and spray them with a couple of Super Soakers. It happened in my room during first lesson, so I had 20 children crowding the windows, not doing their lessons, chattering excitedly, and one very wet little girl at the end of it all.

It's just a little bit distracting.

One young lad I have twice today is sure to get hit a lot. Michael should be a year 6 but was moved ahead. Therefore he's a year younger than the other year 7s and way too bright for his own good. And he's a bit too full of himself with it. I think he sort of thinks he runs the school. He's a nice lad, but a bit overwhelming. For example, he's a student librarian, and he's driven poor Kathy mad telling kids he'll get them librarian jobs when there's already a waiting list. He's the type of student who walks through the corridors saying, "Good Morning, Miss Cooper! Guten tag, Frau Thake! Bon jour, Mme. Perry!"

The rest of the kids have a vendetta against him ever since he told the entire student body that Student Council had decided to change the vending machines to ones that sell only fruit. It's only half-true--there are new machines and they have healthier options, but we still have the crap options, too. And the Student Council did decide this, but it was a confidential meeting and Michael blabbed it all over the school.

He's a funny kid, is Michael.