Following on from our discussion of weird and wonderful incidents in her life, (perhaps this might lead to a few more stories – let's see where this take us), Jillian spoke of another school incident. A different school, different town, different teacher and a year older. The teacher Sir2 was probably only year 2 or 3 out of college as well. Jillian figured this out later when she thought about the way he went about stuff, his language, interests and things like that. Later it was fun for her to think that he was prolly only 10 or 12 years older than her, such a HUGE difference then. Since then she'd (euphemism alert) 'gone out with' blokes that were at least that much older than her.
I've just been told (again the looking over the shoulder thing) that the NEW terminology for this is 'dated'. Yuck. A horrible Americanism we would NEVER have used back then. Oh how life changes.
Back to Jillian.
She said, “This one is not really funny, but it was quite+ neat at the time. Some teachers can be horrid, but you get a few really nice ones.
I remember this chap 'Sir2” taught us to measure the height of flag poles using a method called trigameasure? or something like that. It wasn't on our curriculum, but was huge in the bragging rights area when we could tell the older kids 2 or 3 classes ahead of us stuff they didn't know. One boy even asked his father to estimate the height of the pole and his dad agreed with me. Couldn't figure out how I knew. That was really exciting.”
“But that's not the story I was going to tell you,” she said.
“It was athletics season, and we were in the inter-school sports. It was all running, hurdles, pass the baton, high jumps, long jumping and a couple of strange fun things like sack races and egg and spoon things.
We had been practising all the stuff except long jumping as we had nowhere to do it. We asked Sir2 what he could do.”
He gave a funny sort of a grin and laughed, 'Leave it to me.' he said.
“Well apparently the headmaster said 'no way'. So Sir 2 came back to us and reported the sad news. We were disappointed, and it all became a bit noisy with everyone yelling about it being unfair and all that kind of thing. It was obvious we all wanted to have a chance to compete in the long jump.
Once again, Sir2 said, 'Leave it to me.' And off we went for the day.
The next day was a Tuesday. Sir2 came in for the first class of the day and just sat at the front on his desk facing us doing nothing.
'What's the matter we all chorussed,' a bit like the baby classes say, 'Good Morning Miss Jones.' You know?
'I've got an idea', he said. 'but it has to be a very big secret. From everyone. Friends, family (especially family), and the other teachers, and really especially the Headmaster.'
'Oh a secret,' we all said. Kids love that kind of thing, especially when it is started by an adult. And a teacher as well.
'Yep,' he said. Then he went all serious and deep. 'Why don't we build one ourselves?'
“The class descended into mayhem. Immediately we broke into two groups each shouting at the other. At the same time. Kids never figure that out do they?”
I said, “Many adults don't get it either.”
An evil glare later and Jillian continued, “There was the group who said we couldn't do it; and the other who called us all some bad names and said why not?
“Sir2 just sat with that funny smile and waited for us all to quieten down.
When we stopped shouting, we realised he had been talking for a while. He used to do that. Talk very quietly, when we were all shouting, and when we stopped we had missed heaps of stuff. He had done that now.
We all listened very carefully to figure out what was going on. What was on his mind. Why it had to be a secret.
(to be continued ...)