Over the years, this old teacher has developed quite a sense of humour. Do your grandchildren ever say or write things that amuse you? Children can certainly keep a smile on your face.
Correcting homework as a classroom teacher, and now as a private tutor, has brought some chuckles on my journey. Teachers learn from every student.
Maybe the children do not mean to write nonsense, or perhaps they do it to test their teacher’s observation, tolerance and patience. One schoolboy howler I read with my spectacles was, “An octopus has eight testicles!” Trying not to overreact, I wrote the correct word above that one, with my bright red pen, not to make a fuss.
“Mozart sailed to Vietnam!” Well, really, I do learn from my students. I immediately visualised young Wolfgang sailing through the mangroves and mists arising from the Mekong Delta, on a dhow with his clavichord. Straight from Salzburg. I realised a geography lesson with some map reading was necessary here. So maps were forthcoming. Perhaps this student wrote it to test me, his tutor. Whatever.
“Rome is in Africa!” Big Julius Caesar had a long trip from Gaul on that project, nice little excursion. More map reading of various localities on the globe.
One homework book was a delight, full of these little gems. The homework topic was, ‘My family’. This junior Einstein wrote, “My mum and dad’s favourite place is bed!” I wondered if his parents really wanted that read, by anyone. I must say it was hard to look his mum in the eye, when the loving couple presented at Parent-Teacher interviews, with the next baby brother in utero. As a young teacher, I thought, “Thanks for sharing.”
In those olden days, back in my classroom teaching days, our chalkies’ sense of humour was tested by one student I missed teaching, as he was in the other grade, next door. He was a dark, moody lad, very bright, totally uncooperative, named Simon.
His parents began their offspring with a dutiful, sweetly well-behaved, devout daughter. Deciding parenting was easy, they proceeded to produce nine sons, all less than a year apart, finishing with twin boys. They were all holy terrors.
Anyway, the dark and brooding Simon did not like participating in schoolwork. After many tantrums with my co-teacher, one day he appeared with a project. “Wonderful,” decided his teacher. She read the front cover, beautifully decorated, and the first page. She gave Simon a ‘B’. Feeling victorious that he had finally achieved, she showed this project to one of the nuns, who gave Simon’s project a gold star and lovely comments.
When Simon received his project, he quickly turned to his page eight, where he had written on every line, one sentence. “This is bull****!” Line after line. No, this was not a schoolboy howler.
He displayed this to his mother after school. She promptly gave him a backhander across the ears, for being such a smart alec. (Or words to that effect.) Then mum marched off in high dudgeon to barbecue Simon’s teacher and the nun, for not reading her son’s project. Simon, by this stage, had informed the whole school that he had got a ‘B’ for writing, “This is bull****!”
Somehow, we all had to move on, along our journey of learning from every student. I sometimes, even now years later, wonder if Simon was a prophet. Had this young lad, all of 11 years old, decoded the education system, indeed, all of society, by deciding it was all a load of bull****? It did not seem that hilarious at the time, but nowadays we can look back on the little popes we taught and still laugh.
Try reading your grandchildren’s homework and essays. Kids can bring new meaning to ‘Creative Writing’. I still have not found that octopus with eight testicles, but that is another whole chapter in my journey. Yes, teachers develop a sense of humour. Tales from my past, such nostalgic memories.