Gimme Back My Bunnies!

I couldn't imagine working somewhere where fun was not a part of my day.  Working with kids is a constant flux of control and freedom, discipline and praise, success and failure, seriousness and yes, fun as well.  The same can be said about co-workers (not the flux part, but the fun part).  I have been lucky to have taught my whole career in two schools within the same small community.  With very few exceptions, I've taught alongside talented, professional, and fun characters... I mean colleagues.

Doug Jeffrey, fellow teacher, friend, and a character, was constantly hitting us up for Lions Club charity activities.  After many years in a row, it was once again time for "The Lions Club Chocolate Bunnies Pre-Easter Sales Push", and Doug was quite the high pressure salesman.  After weeks of his bunny pushing, Neil MacTavish and I decided to end it all; so after school we stole all his chocolate bunnies from the staff room and hid them in the VP's office.   

We had barely exited the office when we heard a bellow from the staff room.  "Where are my bunnies?!"

Neil and I bolted in different directions.  I looked back, and there was Doug barrelling down the hall after me!  "Gimme back my bunnies!"

Heading down the hallway, I quickly decided that my best bet was to not get cornered in my room but to double back somehow.  Turning left through the common entrance that my class shared with Carol Parkin's grade 6 class, I cut left and dashed through her room.  Halfway through, I spotted Carol looking at me from her desk, and also a shocked parent, turned around in her chair, watching me careen through the aisle of desks.  "Sorry," I blurted out.

Just then, Doug, hot on my heels entered the room.  "Where are they?! Farrer, gimme back my bunnies!  I want them now!" he roared as he raced after the departing me.

Later, returning to my room I saw Carol was alone.  "Sorry, I didn't know you had a parent.   Hope we didn't throw off your interview."

"It was fine,"  Carol explained.  "After you two left, I just answered her questioning look with, 'We have a lot of fun here at AV Graham'.'"

And, yes, so we did.

Influential Teacher

A retired teacher friend of mine called me the other day.  He and his wife had purchased a car and were talking to the credit manager.  Small talk had led to the discovery that my friend's wife had taught the manager's children.  Further discussion revealed that the manager had gone to AV Graham years ago.  He enquired about who was still teaching at AV Graham and that conversation is what prompted my friend to call me to relate the following:

"Mr. Farrer is still there?  He taught me in grade 5.  He was the teacher who had the most influence on me.  I was a real handful back then."  The ex-student went on to describe situations that illustrated why he held me in such high esteem.

    After thanking my friend for calling, I reflected on the conversation:  I do remember the student.  I do remember him being a pill.  I do not remember any of the anecdotes he told.  But it doesn't matter.  I had made an impact on him.  It's through rare glimpses like this that I am reminded of why teachers do what they do - to make a difference - even though most of the influences that we have had on our students, we will never know.

Thank you, Ian, for the phone call.  You made my day.

Quiet Room

   The heating/air-conditioning fan blowers are always on in the school.  This means that there is a perpetual background drone of air movement noise.  The school was originally built to be "open concept" with minimal walls between teaching areas.  To enter my grade 5 classroom one had to go into the grade 6 room and make a quick right through a doorless opening five feet wide, from floor to ceiling.

     This one day I was teaching my class when suddenly the blowers quit.  I stopped mid-sentence and whispered excitedly, "Listen!  It's quiet.  Isn't it wonderful?"  Through the door opening I could hear grade 6 teacher, Carol Parkin, continuing with her lesson.  I bounded through the opening and in a loud stage whisper exclaimed, "Listen!  Listen!  Listen!  It's quiet in here.  It's actually quiet in here, finally!"

     I looked towards the front of the room.  There was Carol, with her right arm extended, frozen mid-word, the chalk in her hand still in contact with the chalkboard.  She was looking over her shoulder at me and almost imperceptibly she gave me the head nod and eye glance signalling, "Uh, look beside you."

     I turned slowly and there sitting at a desk in the very front row was the Principal.  I had burst in on Carol in the midst of her inspection.  It was now my turn to be surprised.  I very slowly finger-waved 'Hi' to the Principal, turned, and in my best William Shatner, I addressed Carol, "Carry on, Mrs. Parkin.  You're doing a fine job," and then left.