Monday, February 25, 2008

Who's the Boss?

So I like to be the ruler of my universe. What I say goes. Even the people who are my boss people know that and within reason are happy for me to be the ruler of my own universe. I actually have a role within my school that lets me, to a very very very small extent, be the ruler of other people's universe, not just mine and that is super. The more stuff I can be the boss of the happier I am. This is perhaps the only reason I became a teacher. I get to be the boss, ruler, commander, president, king, prime minister, dictator, emperor, monarch, overlord, controller, governor, leader, choose what you will, of 25 little people all day long. Don't get me wrong, I wield my powers wisely. I treat the little people fairly, listen to their side of the story and feel guilty most of the time I send them off to order my lunch for me. They are after all not my slaves. Or so I've been told.

Anyway today I had to go to a meeting. It was all day long and it was with people from other schools who have the same role as me. I.e., like to rule other people's universes although we have no real power or authority to do so. I am a big fat bossy boots and I know it, but because I am aware of it I tone it down when I'm in someone else's universe and Behave Myself. But holy flippin snake crap, there was this other arseclown there today who beats me hands down. I was foolish enough to sit beside her and she was so full of her own self importance, being rightness and so certain that her way is the only way that I swear to god I thought she was going to explode icky green goop all over me. She argued with the boss of us, argued with all of us both individually and collectively, tried to upshow, upsmart and uparse all of us to make herself feel better. She made generalised sweeping statements about what kids can and can’t do, forgetting that she comes from an uptight rich middle class twat of a school with more money then they know what to do with while the rest of us are shit kicking down the bottom of the ladder with our small poppets who have mummies or daddies in jail, drunk, on crack or at the very least the dole who all believe that education is how you spell Free Babysitting.

I wish I could end this tale of woe with a recount of how she fell down the stairs on her way out or had a parking ticket waiting for her or choked on a peanut, but alas I can't. Some shits just cruise through life being a pain in everyone's headspace.

But some good has come of it though. I have decided that even though I know I am bossing and try and turn it down perhaps I need to boss less and listen more. Except to show and tell. I refuse to listen to that punk arse shit.

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