We made the move, I think, to this particular location because it was the most sensible thing to do at the time. I could get to Brisbane quite quickly so wouldn't be away from home too much. We were close to family, which was new to us, helpful, and comforting, whilst it was still far enough away from the rest of the Gold Coast that we weren't infected by the desire to build something ridiculously large on land that couldn't support it, or bend over at the first sign of incoming tourists. We thought about what this particular part of Queensland was turning into, and where we'd find ourselves amongst that in ten or fifteen years time, and more importantly than anything else, we were seeking a place we were happy to raise our family in. Finding that combination of things, plus a backyard you could actually take a full step in without running over the fence and being in the neighbours living room, is a hard task, and most people have already made these decisions before they get to our state of affairs. But as you know, we're not really the family that does things in order. I think, really we wanted to keep a lifestyle we had become so familiar without giving up anything. And as I've said before, and with my memory will most likely say again, everything you want in life comes at a price.
So in making this move, we have taken the leap and chosen a school we had heard very little about (that more than anything else means that there hasn't been any fatal beatings or bomb threats there in the last year). We chose it because it resembled his last school – it was built in among the bushland and canvassed an area that was still quite underdeveloped (this on the Gold Coast means there was only half of the flood plain to the east that had been made into housing estates). It seemed quite regional, which we were used to and liked, so we were hoping that counted for something. And as the only alternatives private school-wise were Christian schools (is there another type of private school in Australia?) at least this way we knew he'd be learning facts, rather than fairy tales about bearded magicians and flying spaghetti monsters. That particular topic can be covered another time, I will just note that my little mangos will have a great ability to argue by the time they fall off the tree. We took the plunge, made a choice – rolled the dice and waited for the ball to drop in the little slot. So it then became a little bit a let down that our fears were realised and that Little Mango 1 was not liking his school.
It started with a conversation about his lunch time. Apart from informing us that he had the uncanny ability to take an entire hour to eat his lunch, he always came back with the response that he played with nobody, and did nothing. This is pretty common with boys from what I've heard so I didn't really put it down to much. Then the stories changed to how he played with a friend that day, and the next.
Promising. Then he didn't play with his friend because he had another friend who said Little Mango 1 was not allowed to play. Despite having the desire the dangle the child that rejected my son out of a high window until he changed his mind... and apologised.... and paid him five dollars, I put it down to the fact that relationships between children are just... well... weird. Maybe existential is a good word
for it – their friendships exist at that very moment, and only in that moment - they could be mortal enemies the moment later. If adults went on like this, sure we'd meet a lot of people, but damn would the world be a volatile place. Wars could literally break out because one country went and played with someone else, or because they wanted what another one had, even though there was no real need for it. Oh, wait that already happens.. Regardless, I figured he would sort it out.
One of the ways he sorted it out was then moving into his dobbing stage – if you looked the wrong way at a teacher, or stood on a patch of grass he thought was out of bounds, off he went to find the nearest authority figure. A small lecture about the difference between seeking help when someone was really in trouble, and narking on your friends ensued. Now whenever he starts a story with, “I went and told the teacher....”, I say 'NARK!' Ah, morals are the best.
Then he was crying. Everyday he said he had been sad at school and so he cried. He cried about someone else getting a mark against their name. He cried about forgetting his library book. He cried about the entire class having to stay in at lunch...., wait what was that one? That's right, the whole class in at lunch – wow, they must have been bad – every single last one of them! Now I can't be sure that he wasn't being naughty in class along with the other 28 of them, although I'm pretty damn confident he wasn't, but I can still question the punishment can't I? I thought back to when I went to school and I remembered having to do the same thing when I was in school – oh well, fair enough then. But hang on, that was twenty plus years ago – surely behaviour management had developed at least a little in the past two decades?? Then I heard another story. They have a reward system in the class – great – a reward system is a great way to encourage good behaviour by rewarding it, which has been proven, to those people that forward on the “Remember when?” emails. They have a reward system in class – you get a ticket when you're displaying good behaviour, it goes into a draw which, at the end of the week, a winner is picked from and a prize issued. Great – behaviourally speaking, the attentive kids are always being rewarded, so the borderline kids get sick of everyone else getting prizes and try harder. The bottom of the barrel just stay where they are, gluing their heads to the desk or dreaming of their future careers as parking inspectors. As long as most of the kids coming out of school have at least satisfactory social skills then all is well. But the point is, in all aspects, it encourages good behaviour in a positive way. The problem last week was the teacher decided, in one foul moment when she let her anger get the better of her, to abandon the drawing of the prize.... on Friday. The WHOLE class was so bad that her entire behaviour management system had to be abandoned completely on the very day that the pay-off happens. In one move, she took all the hard work that well-behaved kids had made all week, along with her own integrity as a teacher, and speared it through the eye. What belief will the kids have in her next time she offers them a game like that? What's the reason to try if it could all be stripped of you anyway? What's more, in doing so, she's basically reversed the entire game. Now the bad kids are being rewarded by bringing the whole damn system down and taking the rewards off their
more well-behaved classmates. Now this strategy may work when kids are older and teachers can rely on the students themselves using peer pressure to enforce good behaviour, but that's because they know the difference. Grade 1 is not the time for it – they have to be taught on an individual level what is expected in class. The techniques should be long term, and the effect gradual – it's in moments of “monkey-brain” like this, where you can't concentrate because of how angry you are, that you fail.
And from what I've heard, Little Mango 1's teacher fails quite a bit – that's right, she's a screamer.
Now I can't be certain that she yells as much as Little Mango 1 says she does because he can be quite precious sometimes (as illustrated by the crying stories above – he gets a bit caught up in emotion, the
weight of the world is on his shoulders a fair bit), but I can be pretty certain that though she might be a good teacher, perhaps she's just in the wrong age-group. And that got me thinking about why people choose teaching.
Now I know Mrs Mango chose teaching because, obviously she loves kids, she is fascinated with the way they operate, and generally gets great gain from seeing them succeed. And that should be a common reason amongst most teachers, shouldn't it? Wouldn't we expect that the person we leave our kids with is going to be reinforcing the same values we pass on at home (unless those values are the rubbish goes on top of the pile out the window and that Coke being on the food triangle means that
it is an essential food group), and the techniques used are even better than ours because they have been trained in the ways of children by the best in the country? I don't necessarily think that's always the case. Let's take a moment to consider the point of view of a person going into university towards their future. They've got no other ideas on what they want to do – they don't mind kids, there's pretty normal office hours (from the outside, I think the reality is a bit different if you want to be a good teacher), decent money for someone coming straight out of uni (although in the long run, I don't think quite enough for public school teachers) and around eleven weeks of holidays a year. All you've got to do is get up and talk, mark some papers, reassure parents, and pick up your paycheck while considering a nice, easy future family life. Yep, sounds sweet. Sounds simple. Sounds like the sensible thing to do.
I suppose there's sometimes a difference then between the most sensible thing to do, and the right thing. It's all just a matter of how you look at it.
PS. If you were personally offended by anything contained within this post, or any other post past or future, please take the time to check out the groovy new disclaimer I've added to the bottom of this blog. Take that and stay classy!
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