Again, I have been remiss in running my fingers over the
keyboard; but then again, it’s been damn near impossible to be creative in the
past three weeks. Here’s why, Gentle Reader:
In the first week of this past three weeks, I had FUCKING
COVID, and as the old ad went: Not happy, Jan! I don’t know from where I
caught the virus, but given my husband and eldest had symptoms before I did,
I’m guessing my son caught it at work from a customer. I woke on the Monday
feeling a bit lousy, so I carried out a home test. Lo and behold, it was
positive. I rang my work to report my result, then asked my youngest son if he
had any spare RAT kits for his dad and brother, explaining I had just tested
positive (the school supplies kits to the students). Sure ‘nuff, Mr Bingells and our oldest spawn
turned out the same.
Everyone’s experience of Covid is different. My own
experience was colossal fatigue, which when trying to finalise two university
assessments that are due, is a nightmare. I also had to produce some lesson
plans for the practicum placement I was to undergo just after my isolation
period, and it was a Kafkaesque clusterfuck trying to plan something for Year
Tens studying Journey of the Magi when my brain felt like a pile of
confused dung. It took me two hours to plan one lesson! All I wanted to do was
sleep, and I’m still feeling the exhausted after-effects. My son is still
coughing. My husband struggled greatly because he is in the vulnerable
category. We had to put off builders who were to clad our house that week. I
lost income because I am a casual and I also had to cancel my tutoring. In the miserable mire, we were very grateful
we are vaccinated; I cannot imagine how dastardly the experience would have
been otherwise – particularly for Mr Bingells. I have no sympathy for those who
choose not to get vaccinated and then come down with the damned thing. I worry
about people who cannot take a vaccine and are therefore vulnerable.
Today, I was able to go to my backyard and hang out washing
for the first time in three weeks (feeling weak and sick necessitated the use
of the dryer during my bout of ‘rona). It felt good. It also tuckered me out
somewhat, but I’m slowly getting stronger.
Moving on to my practicum placement: I loved it! I had some
‘moments’, but I learned from them and have been perfecting my classroom
management skills. I really enjoyed the classroom discussions wherein I
explained Blackstone’s principle in judicial matters when contextualised to the
breakdown of society in Lord of the Flies with Year Eight and the themes
in 12 Angry Men with Year Ten. Other highlights included:
1. . Using Shakespearean insults to teach Year Seven
the difference between ‘thee’ and ‘thou’ (the poetry we studied had archaic
language).
2. Playing Kiss to the Year Tens to demonstrate how judiciously placed trochaic words can make a piece, whether it be a song or modernist poetry, really pop.
3. . Explaining the ‘empty wine skin’ in Journey
of the Magi was the equivalent of an empty goon bag (I think ‘goon bag’ is
a funny term).
4. Explaining Piggy in The Lord of the Flies
is the deuteragonist to Ralph’s protagonist and Jack’s antagonist (I don’t get
to use ‘deuteragonist’ in a sentence often enough)
But the main highlight for me during my placement was the
realisation that not only am I capable of teaching a class, I am also really
going to enjoy it. For the most part, anyway.
Before I go, can I just say this to the people criticising
the Finnish prime minister for dancing with friends at a party: UNCLENCH A
LITTLE, ALREADY! For the love of God, the woman is thirty-six years old. I’d do
the same if I were thirty-six. Some say it’s not a good look. Our last prime
minister secretly awarded himself multiple portfolios. That look is so bad it
would offend thine eyes (I also told the Year Sevens ‘thine’ goes before a noun
starting with a vowel, a well as being the equivalent of ‘yours’).
