29.12.2006
The Communionology-Lesson
The Communionology-Lesson
http://www.netsaga.is/media/files/doorsrofkafkaaeel.mp3
l For a couple of minutes we just stare open-mouthed with expectation;
I on them and they on me in a peculiar, but wonderful silence.
Suddenly peace is broken.
I turn my head towards the peace-disturber in the corner, both being pleased and annoyed at the same time.
-What are we supposed to do now, Mr. Teacher? We haven't any books.
I do my best keeping my dignity in this sarcastic situation that I felt had developed, so I replied the kid in a wise looking manner after I'd swallowed all saliva that had heaped up in my mouth.
-Ya, I was thinking of you telling me in a short essay what you did last summer, how you spent your vacation; where did you travel or did you do anything amusing that you'd want to tell me about?
-No, not again, shrieks the disturber. We did that last fall.
I had not expected this reply and look awkward for a while. -In that case wouldn't you like to show me your best in drawing throughout this lesson, I ask already having doubts on whether I will be able to maintain discipline any longer.
-Oh, no, a miserable voice can be heard from the other corner, the window-row. There a thin girl with short dark hair is sitting, but she had been quiet until that moment.
Wouldn't it be super to go outside for a game of brenno?
She looks at me begging with her big, sky-blue eyes.
-Brenno?
She has really disrupted my confidence.
-Ye, let's play brenno!
The pupils' voices clash on me one higher than another, in a way that isn't to my liking so I raise my hands in despair.
-Silence!
I shout with my weak voice forgetting to swallow, despite greater product, before I ask.
What do you think the principal'll say if he sees me outside playing at the same time I should be keeping you occupied in learning, like a proper teacher...
To my peril these last words reach out into the air in such a weak way, that the kids obviously can't understand anything of what I'm saying.
I must make a sudden decision, so that I won't have to re-peat myself.
Would it really be a sin if I'd take them outside when the weather is so beautiful I think to myself noticing the clear blue sky looking through the big windows.
I've made a decision, but before I inform the kids who suddenly have become silent as lambs I swallow properly, preparing myself and I try to sound quite merry, even though I'd really had wished for the perverse.
I've been beaten by those who I was supposed to control until the end of this day that began in such a promising way.
-Well, kids!
I address the class, at the same time keeping the damned saliva away, so that my pupils will be able to grasp what decision I would like to think they will believe I'd taken on my own accord.
Let's go outside! Enjoy the nice weather and play brenno, until the bell rings for the next lesson which is geography.
The applause doesn't stop until I raise my hands again, but not in any desperation as formerly, my illusion has reached its peak and I've started to believe that I'm having my pupils in full control.
Kolbrun, won't you go to the gymnasium to get a ball for us, I ask the girl in the corner remembering her name.
-Yes no problem she replies instantly as she runs along.
ll
Obviously a teacher with my physical ability should've stood by allowing his pupils to be alone in their game, but because I want them to know that I'm their friend I decide to be the leader in one of the two teams, the king.
Rigoristic with my woodenlike legs I'm really to blame for losing the first round in a humiliating way.
I refuse to surrender, despite numerous heavy falls.
I try my best to keep up my chin forcing out laughter, despite not really being in the mood for laughing.
I'm really ashamed of myself, but hide my true feeling.
After some thinking I decide we should change our tactics, so that my team will be able to keep their heads up high.
I call for a meeting before the second round.
-Kids, I begin with a bone-dry mouth. We have come here to beat the hell out of them, or what?
But avoid mentioning the reason for our losing, myself.
-Yes, of course, they repeat one after another.
-Then we must reform the way we play our game, our tactic, says I and swallow before I presume my case.
The kids all agree with nicking their heads.
Instead of shooting in hopeless opportunities we should concentrade on a single opponant at a time;
throwing the ball between us until he gets tired and becomes an easy prey. In that way we can chop them down, I conclude my case and finish by swallowing my saliva. This goes on almost faultlessly, not mentioning the number of times when I don't catch the ball.
We beat them every time and I'm catching almost all
the time. When the bell chimes for the next lesson I happen to notice my namesake, the principal in one window where he's watching our game with a mocking face, then I raise my hand as a friendly gesture.
He returns my greeting, before he returns to his office.
Obviously he's pleased with my enterprise I reckon and subsequently being so sure of myself I decide to keep on playing also in the next lesson.
And on we go, the teacher and his pupils play-ing Brenno at the same time when everyone else is sitting over their books, until the bell chimes the second time, but this time for a break.
When other pupils come streaming out of the school, I come around, give my greetings to my play-mates and hurry to the teachers' lounge, tired and sweatty but quite pleased with myself.
In stead of getting what I expected; congratulations, nobody seems to notice me, but the coffee- lady brings me my cup of coffee with a quick mur-mur supposedly "gersovel".
So I'll be able to break the wall of silence I turn to my seatmate asking whether he had any opinion about the importance of games in schools.
-That's why we have gymnastics, Oli, he mur-mured without turning his head towards me and that was the end of our conversation.
But my co-teacher's lack of interest doesn't discourage my newfound conviction;
that schooling doesn't have to be just inside four walls and therefore I turn to another teacher. But no dice.
Nobody seems to have any interest for a conversation with the new teacher, who reckons he's found a brave new world.
Lively conversation have begun in the teachers' lounge anyway, but apparently no issue does include teaching in any way.
What kind of teachers are they anyway, goes through my mind, don't they have any interest for their job.
If I were in their shoes, I'd use the breaks to discuss any improvements I might find for my teaching.
Try to get new ideas so that I could increase the variety in the rather dull curriculum of my clients, the children.
I really don't realize that teaching is like any
other job, where everybody gets filled with a certain boredom after a while and start yearning for their vacation. Because I can't find any common interests with my seat-mates I start wondering what the two lessons that are left might be like.
How would it seem if I took the kids on a field-trip to a fishing-factory, so that they might become aware of where the money comes from?
Yes, what a brilliant idea!
How marvellous the school would be if all teachers were as imaginative as I am, is the thought that goes through my modest mind.
Maybe I should ask for the principal's approval, feeling sure that he will approve of my new-fangled proposal.
I take a quick look at my Certina, an automatic wristwatch, a present from my parents and they had given me at a milestone in my life;
the long desired gratuation almost a year ago. In a glimpse a memory from my youth goes through my mind.
A part that had been buried somewhere in the ventricles of my brain, but has suddenly become vivid to my imagination.
I feel a loss for my junior-college-years, when the future was sunny.
I was young, healthy and promising.
Then nothing alluded anything else, than I'd become a normal happy drudge who built his house collecting children and debts.
But nobody can tell his future just as the examples have proven.
I had no idea about what would become of me.
