In the Staff Room today, there was concern for a teacher who appeared close to breaking point. “Could anyone that sees anyone from my class wondering around School…just…I don’t know…stop them…if you can…try to…and tell them to come back…please?”. Everyone nodded supportively.
The playground was no place for the faint-hearted. I had to ask two children to put a punch up they were having ‘on hold’ while I sorted out another fight. Luckily, they were agreeable lads and by the time I’d separated the other fight, they’d forgotten what they were fighting about in the first place. Kids eh?.
I was hoping Zak would show more of a Friday feeling. He was certainly accepting of his first exclusion from class, even though he was holed up next to an amateur violinist. Thankfully, we had a trip to the Royal Albert Hall to see the London Philarmonic Orchestra, to show us how it should be done.
We each had our responsibilities provided by Caroline, the Head Teacher, “…Kate, you look after (5 children), Adam you look after (5 children), Tim, just look after Zak”. It sounded simple enough and the coach journey there was very straightforward. Zak spent most of it with his fingers in his ears, it’s a common Autistic trait to find excessive noise troublesome.
Unfortunately it all kicked off during ‘The Nutcracker Suite’. “I’m going to the toilet on my own!” he suddenly raged. As instructed, I followed him down the stairs and he flipped, “I need to do a poo and I’m not going to force it back!”. What the teachers, children and assorted Royal Albert Hall staff must have thought is anyone’s guess. I’m just glad I wasn’t carrying a stick at the time.
It was fortunate Zak did go to the toilet, as the cannon fire during the ‘1812 Overture’ would have evacuated anything that might have been there. He thought we were under attack and buried himself in my arms. Speaking to the Head Teacher later, we agreed it was all too much for him.
The scatological theme continued on the way home. I was disappointed to find cussing between kids is as unimaginative as it was during my School years. I mean, “You eat poo for breakfast”?, come on…