Chapter 13 #2
Patrick Monaghan, the school’s supervisor teacher they’d met at College, finally appeared and shook their hands.
“It’s great to meet you all.” He turned to Miles.
“Now I’m afraid we’ve hit a little snag with the man who was going to be supervising you.
Bryan has come down with chickenpox, and will be out for the next few weeks so we have a replacement teacher who will help you get started. I’ll take you to see Mr. Scott soon.”
Patrick explained some more of the processes and procedures, then said they’d be introduced properly next week at a before-school all staff meeting. “But for today I’m going to take you to meet your mentors, okay?”
“Sure.” Aisling gave Maisie an encouraging smile, Miles a slightly less exuberant one.
She was glad when they finally were walking the corridors. Eek! She was a teacher! Well, almost one. In a couple of years, but still. Excitement simmered within, drawing her to smile at some passing students, several of whom raised their eyebrows like this was strange.
Oh. It probably was. And probably marked her as a new teacher. Better refrain from exhibiting too much excitement, then. For the rest of their walk down the corridor she settled for a nod and a slightly less-toothy grin.
“Okay, first stop is PE, seeing that’s on this floor,” Patrick said. “Then we’ll have maths, then it’s upstairs for you, Aisling.”
They followed, waiting in the hallway as Patrick introduced Miles to his supervising teacher and the other PE staff, then led them on to the Maths staffroom. “You’ve got this,” Aisling murmured to Maisie, who nodded, even though she looked a little green.
Then it was her turn. Up the stairs to the Humanities department, which housed History, Irish, and Politics and Society. “Your supervisor is Moira Greene. She’s had a number of students in the past, so you'll find that fairly straightforward.”
He knocked on the door, then gestured her inside a room that housed a variety of desks and a central table with chairs. “Everyone, this is Aisling Fairall, one of the UCC students who will be here over the next year helping Moira with Irish and politics and history.”
There were various nods, smiles, and “Welcomes” and an older lady came forward. Held out a hand. “I’m Moira. Welcome aboard.”
“Thanks.”
“I wasn’t going to have a student this year, but when the call came I put up my hand once again.”
“I appreciate it.”
“Now there’s no need to be scared, the students are often more bark than bite.” She winked. “But not always.”
She laughed, but really hoped that Moira had meant that as a joke.
She pushed her shoulders back. Okay, teaching world, here she came.
* * *
He must be going crazy. Andy glanced back at the hall, while the student teacher he’d been assigned kept yabitty-yabitting on about all the sports he played.
All of which he was apparently excellent in.
Andy had met his type before, and suspected the kid’s self-promotion was designed to make himself feel better.
Maybe he should take a leaf from the kid’s book because Andy could do with feeling better.
For a second, he really thought he must be going crazy because he thought he’d seen Aisling out there in the hallway.
Which was ridiculous. Impossible. She was in Kerry while he was here.
It couldn’t be her. Besides, this redhead was more slender, and dressed in a professional suit.
Yet there’d been something about her face and hair…
He rubbed his eyes, and turned back to the kid.
Get your head into gear. “So, Miles, given all that, which of your many sports do you think you’d like to teach while here?
We have some flexibility in the course, and I can save the doubles with the tenth graders to do a sport in which you’re more comfortable in.
We can start with that then work our way through the others. ”
Miles shrugged. “It really doesn’t matter. I’ll be fine with whatever you want.”
“Confident I see.”
“Only way to be.”
Okay. It was starting to sound less like confidence and more like arrogance but whatever.
“Right, well, if you’re happy with whatever that’s exactly what we’ll do.
” And he could keep to his usual structure.
If Miles thought that he could do anything then Andy wasn’t going to go out of his way to change things.
He explained a little about the curriculum, what classes they’d teach on the days Miles was here, all of which earned him nods and assurance. Which was good in some ways, but would be interesting in others. Because in his years of experience, the only way to truly be a teacher was to learn.
It didn’t take too long before he started questioning why he’d agreed to take the supervisor role.
Yes, he’d be paid a little extra, and have a helper in the classroom, but seriously.
He hoped having a moment of compassion for poor Bryan wouldn’t be something he’d regret.
Over the past hours it became increasingly apparent that Miles was addicted to his phone.
Even simple instructions earned Andy a yawn.
“Am I boring you?” Andy asked him, in the staffroom during their lunch break.
“No. Just had a late one.”
Andy glanced at Stuart, his head teacher, who shook his head. Yeah, not the way to make a good impression.
Miles glanced at Andy. “Hey, someone said you almost went to the Olympics.”
“Yes.” He’d wondered how long before this would come up.
“Yeah, I could’ve gone too if I’d kept training,” Miles boasted.
“Okay.”
“No, Miles, I didn’t think you understand,” Stuart said. “Andy here actually was going to go to the Olympics. He had the best times going into the trials.”
That was generous, but he’d take it.
“What happened?” Miles asked, around a mouthful of sandwich, his eyes flicking back to his phone.
“Torn achilles,” Andy explained. “It got repaired but has never been the same since.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Yes, it is.
The bell rang for the second half. Thank goodness. Day one and he was already growing tired of Miles. He stood. “I’m on playground duty now.”
“Oh, but I’m still eating.”
“You’ll learn to multitask. It’s okay, Miles. You finish your sandwich.” And checking your social media, or playing whatever game is on your phone. “I’m sure the others will point you in the right direction.” His co-worker nodded, and he escaped, relieving the other teacher.
The day had him a little agitated, so he took some time to breathe. Then noticed one of the humanities teachers passing by. “Hi Moira.” She was a super-teacher, one of the mentors who really knew her stuff. She might be able to give some tips on how to manage Miles and his cocky attitude.
“Andy.” She smiled. “I understand you have a student teacher too.”
“I’m covering for Bryan who got sick.” Silly him. He was regretting this already.
She nodded. “I thought this year I might take a break, but when the university called saying they needed another supervisor I put up my hand.”
“What’s yours like?”
“Oh, she’s a gem. I know this week is just supposed to be about observing, but already she’s been really helpful, takes initiative, and the kids seem to be warming to her.
Which is just as well, because I find myself having a sad lack of patience for some students who don’t seem to understand this is a people person job.
You know, those who seem to prefer to spend more time on their phone, than actually learning what the job is about. ”
His lips pursed. Like a certain PE student teacher.
“Well, judging from that face, I’m going to guess that perhaps you might know what I’m talking about.”
“I have a feeling that I may.”
“Well, if there’s anything I can do to help you out please let me know. I’ve done this a few times over the years.”
Moira was a legend in the school, especially considering how many student teachers she had. She certainly had her systems worked out to enable her student teachers to slot in with ease.
He returned inside after the second half of lunch, and nearly bumped into two young women he didn’t recognise. Probably the other student teachers. Except…
Wait. The redhead in green. No. It couldn’t be.
Then she laughed, and he knew that laugh in his very core.
“Aisling?”