Hide 'n' Seek

AV Graham was built as an Open Concept school in 1970.  The School Board never embraced the actual teaching methods of Open Concept, it just built schools with no walls.  (What's up with that?)  Anyway, when I arrived at AVG in 1984, walls had been erected between the classrooms but there were no walls separating the classrooms from the hallway.  As you walked down the hall you could look directly into each classroom.  (I guess we had progressed from Open Concept to Open Hallway methodology :-)

My cohort in crime during that era was Neil MacTavish.  I don't know exactly what prompted Neil to think of this, but he came to me shortly after a colleague had left for the day.  (It must have been the dark foreboding classroom he could see from the open hallway.)

"Hey, Rick, let's empty Mike's room."

And so we did.

We enlisted the help of some of the other teachers and spent the next half hour emptying the room of absolutely everything - file cabinets, desks, chairs, books, his desk and chair, everything from all the shelves, paper, chalk, the works - and hid them everywhere throughout the building.  The pièces de résistance was we left Mike's coat on his coat rack, with a metre stick through the sleeves resembling outstretched arms, and topped with his own hat, standing scarecrow-like behind a ribbon of police tape stretching from wall to wall with a sign that read, "Keep out!"

This is the actual room we cleaned out.  It is vacant because of reduced enrolment and not goofy teachers this time.

To say Mike was surprised and upset the next morning, would be an understatement.  He was flabbergasted and ticked!  After a short visit to the principal, and a call home to his wife, he did settle down.  By then the students had entered for the day, and we were all with our classes.

Soon after announcements, groups of Mike's students fanned through the building and entered each classroom unannounced.  They scoured the room for their teacher's belongings and whisked  them away.  In less time than it took to empty it, Mike had his class back together and up and running.

For months afterwards he got random visits from student messengers sent from other teachers bearing more of his belongings that had just resurfaced.  One teacher even found a file folder of his squirreled away in her filing cabinet two years after Mike had transferred to another school.

Now that's a successful hide 'n' seek. 

Magnifying Glass

 His name escapes me, but my memory of him never will.  

Grade 5,  A.V. Graham, circa 1986.  He was a smart, inquisitive, child - some might call him a Poindexter - and he had a relish for science and experimentation.  We had been using magnifying glasses in class for a science something-or-other and he embraced the tool wholeheartedly.

One bright and sunny Spring day I was on yard duty and just happened to catch a glimpse of him streak around the corner of the building, bolt to the door, and enter the school, without permission.  I quickly followed him into the building and caught sight of him darting into our classroom.  

As I swung into the room, I was so ready to bellow, "Just what do you think you're doing?" but I pulled up short.  There, at the emergency exit door across the room in the corner, was my student smacking away with his hands at the construction paper, taped to the window - which was on fire!  Just then the fiery window covering fell to the floor and he stamped it out.

"What the heck is going on?" I asked.  He turned around, surprised to see me there.  

"I accidentally set the paper on fire from outside.  I, uh, wanted to see if a magnifying glass could burn through glass," he stammered.  He added sheepishly, "I guess it can."

After determining that he hadn't burned himself, I proceeded to praise him; not for setting the school on fire, but for not panicking.

"Some other student might have gotten scared and run away into the school yard, but you did the right thing in trying to stop the fire."  This seemed to settle him down a bit.  "But if this ever happens again, and I'm sure it won't, but if it were to happen again, tell a teacher and don't put it out yourself.  Ok?"

"Yes, Mr. Farrer."

"Now get outside.   And let's just leave the magnifying glass inside your desk."

I Get Blamed for Everything

Barb Girard was the girls' Phys Ed teacher.  One gym class, many years ago, she was refereeing a volleyball game.  She blew her whistle, and motioned with her hands outstretched, palms down, that the ball had landed within the court lines and a point was to be awarded to the serving team.  The girl who had allowed it to hit the floor challenged her on her call.  Barb replied, in a professional referee manner, without verbal comment - she simply repeated the hand gesture: "In".  Another challenge by the student was met with yet another visual reaffirmation of her call.  The frustrated girl turned away and blurted out, "It was in, you blind bitch."  The girl was sent to the office and sent home for a day.  

Barb, recognizing the humour in the exchange, couldn't wait to tell us all about it in the staff room.  The next day she found over a dozen eyeglasses in her school mailbox with an accompanying note:  "Barb, these will fix the first part of your problem."

Of course, I was blamed for it.  But I was innocent, I tell you, innocent... well, that time at least.