Baruch
1st-May-2006, 12:38 AM
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing pens and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when parents doubt you,
Especially if you’re a parent too;
If you can wait in vain at parents’ evenings
For people who will never, ever show,
Or being asked to write more reams of paper,
Can grit your teeth as all your evenings go:
If you can dream - but not when marking maths books,
If you can think - remember children’s names;
If you can meet inspector and headmaster
And treat them with suspicion, both the same;
If you can bear to see your well-planned lessons
Ignored by kids transferred from other schools,
Or watch your shiny new resources broken
By kids whose parents taught them to be fools:
If you can make a claim to pass the threshold
And risk it on the whim of LEAs,
And, though you’re dumped on, carry on regardless,
While navigating education’s maze;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To mark another set of children’s books,
And cope with tears from Dan and Ben and Amy,
Whose coats have disappeared from off the hooks:
If you can implement a “new” idea
Imposed from up on high by Tony Blair,
If you can make it look like you can manage,
Despite the fact you’re tearing out your hair;
If you can make displays of children’s paintings
Though someone else has nicked your staple gun,
Yours is the class and everything that’s in it,
And - which is more - you’ll be a teacher, son!
Mangled by Baruch.
Are losing pens and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when parents doubt you,
Especially if you’re a parent too;
If you can wait in vain at parents’ evenings
For people who will never, ever show,
Or being asked to write more reams of paper,
Can grit your teeth as all your evenings go:
If you can dream - but not when marking maths books,
If you can think - remember children’s names;
If you can meet inspector and headmaster
And treat them with suspicion, both the same;
If you can bear to see your well-planned lessons
Ignored by kids transferred from other schools,
Or watch your shiny new resources broken
By kids whose parents taught them to be fools:
If you can make a claim to pass the threshold
And risk it on the whim of LEAs,
And, though you’re dumped on, carry on regardless,
While navigating education’s maze;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To mark another set of children’s books,
And cope with tears from Dan and Ben and Amy,
Whose coats have disappeared from off the hooks:
If you can implement a “new” idea
Imposed from up on high by Tony Blair,
If you can make it look like you can manage,
Despite the fact you’re tearing out your hair;
If you can make displays of children’s paintings
Though someone else has nicked your staple gun,
Yours is the class and everything that’s in it,
And - which is more - you’ll be a teacher, son!
Mangled by Baruch.