her once in a while and give silent thanks for the wisdom she’d imparted to them.
But that wasn’t what it was like at all. She’d tried to explain this to one of her lecturers once, but he hadn’t understood. He’d said that she’d be able to run her own class however she wanted once she’d qualified, but she didn’t think that was true, even though she couldn’t explain to him why she felt that. She couldn’t run her class however she wanted because there were all the rules she was learning right now that would make it impossible. She knew the rules had to be there, but sometimes she felt like there were just too many – so many they weighed her down so that she couldn’t think about anything else.
Class 3G of Featherbrook School had done little to allay her many doubts about whether this really had been the right career choice after all. Today had to be her worst day of work experience so far and she’d felt nothing but desperation and an overwhelming fatigue as she’d made the journey back to Sea Salt Bay. There had been no one at home when she’d arrived there – her parents were still working, making the most of the lengthening days and a fresh tourist season, and wouldn’t be back until the sun had started to sink below the horizon. Rather than sit in an empty house feeling like a wretched failure, Sadie had decided to make the most of a warm afternoon and head to the beach, hopeful that the sounds of the sea and the feeling of the sun on her face would go some way to healing her. If nothing else, she’d top up her vitamin D.
As she sat on the sand now, looking out to sea, she went over the day’s events again. She was supposed to get support from a qualified teacher so that she wouldn’t be alone with the kids, but that seemed to happen less and less often. In a way, it was easy to see why – the school was so understaffed and underfunded that they probably grabbed the chance of some cheap teaching with both desperate hands, support or not.
Today, one girl had come to her in tears because someone in the class had snuck up behind her and cut a chunk from her hair. When Sadie had quizzed the class nobody would admit to being the perpetrator – and why would they? Sadie was such a useless pushover of a teacher that they weren’t a bit scared of her. Not that she’d want anyone to be scared, but an air of authority might be nice. Then she’d had to leave the room for a moment and had come back to a giant chalk penis on the board that someone had kindly left for her. Throughout her lesson the volume of chat and raucous laughter in the class had grown and grown, as had the rowdiness, no matter how many times she’d called for order, until a teacher from a neighbouring classroom had come in to complain that they couldn’t hear the play they were trying to listen to. Of course, the kids had clammed up immediately at the sight of the actual scary, qualified and confident teacher, only to begin their verbal assault again as soon as he’d disappeared, but louder this time. Eventually the red-faced headmistress had had to intervene, beckoning Sadie to step outside the classroom and out of earshot of her young charges.
‘Miss Schwartz… I suggest you get your class in order!’
Sadie had nodded helplessly but hadn’t known what to say in reply, and perhaps the desperation in her expression had reminded the head of her own training, because she seemed to soften at this.
‘You know you can always come and see me if there’s anything you need help and advice on,’ she’d said. ‘I realise that some of the children think they can play the trainee teachers but you do have support in this regard. You must come and seek it when you need to.’
Sadie had nodded again, and she’d tried to mean it this time, but the head’s words hadn’t made her feel any better. While the woman had given the impression of being sympathetic and patient over Sadie’s doubts, Sadie knew that she had about a thousand other things that she’d rather be worrying about than the noise volume of a trainee teacher’s lesson, or whether she was managing. Sadie didn’t want to be