"Who would you choose?" The
On Dutch television ran a long time a government-produced advertising, which always ended with the following slogan:
." We grow up in school ".
Seeing eleven boy I somehow different. In my opinion grew to only when one of his classmates at Pokémon Trading Card Game a Simsala the Gar constituted, or with his on pocket money bought Eldar force the wretched Space Marines of the big brother in the most distant spiral arm of the galaxy banished. Yes, that would make one day a man.
Fortunately, one grows out of everything out eventually. Now I'm grown out still not out of my very "nerdy" hobbies (and I doubt that I'll ever), but late least since my senior year I understand that old slogan. At least, I thought. Because ultimately, the slogan rather hear me, I think. Why? Because let me tell you again.
Today, I should report on my internship as a school is a very problematic existing class. Several factors accounted for this class is a real challenge. First, there is a real young class: in a class of 30 students were only four or five ladies. And we all know what happens when teenage boys are with each other?
Secondly, the class and two autistic people. Fortunately, the two, it is not all to severe autism in which they suffer, and the school accompanied the two men also very good. However, such students need a clear structure in the classroom, and should be done as a teacher always pretty much what you do when, or does. And yes, exactly, should it (if possible) do not differ.
two reasons that make this class to the dismay of many teachers. Accordingly, I was so scared enough when I started this morning at precisely 9.25 the classroom clock. Interns / trainees are probably their favorite prey. And I could tell right away. It was noisy, restless and everyone was running around wild. I had decided not to play once the bogeyman. I had intended to leave all the nice take it easy. I did not want to be authoritarian. But this class read me no choice. A fast, loud clapping my hands, followed by a deep, loud "good morning". 30 pairs of eyes were on me, and were flashed all haste to their place and it was quiet as a mouse. Once again, I looked with a real Gestapo look at the class, and then sighed. A small smile I could not help me. The first verbal sword blow came for the adolescent Brut unexpected and painful. 1-0 for the Edukationsmanager.
Do not get me wrong, I get no kick when I hang out the asshole. But when a situation requires a steel glove, then it must be used (which I think also the way in politics and business, but also I will someday own a full blog entry). The rest of the education required to happiness no other SS "charisma". The very recent topic, American politics seemed to fascinate the kids and it came out a couple of very intelligent questions. All I could because of my impeccable preparation (I hear someone yell "Narzist"?) Answer. All, except one.
"Mr. Schmidt, whom would you choose?"
Damn! Idiot! I schwachmat perfect! I tell these young people a whole history of American politics, and how important it is to understand this ... but I myself have not even set to a current level from each other with this! I have not looked at the campaigns of the different candidates and just immersed myself in their goals. All I have done is watched a bit of news! And now the five-year-old Macho comes with such a simple but critical question! Keep one, Markus preserve composure!
"Well .... first work through the material. If we end up still have time, I share my political thoughts with you. "
something better I could not tell. I had as long, and while I now again went through the Trias Politica, the weaving of my brain spinning in a reply . However, the weavers would rather tie a Perzisch carpet instead of a simple linen cloth would. Too deep thoughts prevent me from school, I had to passively think. Two things at once. Damn, why must I be a man? "Where's the damn second X chromosome, if one is in need! The time flew and it was 10.05 clock. Five minutes before classes end. And again came the question. The class was quiet. I could only sigh.
"Barak Obama would have my vote."
"Why?"
"... From a very stupid reason."
"What is that?"
"He has the cutest smile." The class giggled
. Students talked about the elections and called on their favorites through the classroom. Inwardly, I hit myself with a large wooden club. I had spent the whole lesson so that these young people to convey that politics is not "Germany seeks the superstar", and people should not be selected on the basis of her looks or charisma. And I'll come with something!
"We grow up in the school." symbolizes growth here to learn. From mistakes you learn. Have I made a mistake? Oh yes. I'm learning out of there? Hell yeah.
Thank you, Dutch government, for such a wise advertising.
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