Sir has arrived home from the Yr 12 Camp.
Yes yes, amongst the disclaimers of "this one time, at Yr 12 camp", & "at this Yr 12 Camp We......".
No. What happens on camp, stays on camp.
The bestest beastiest teachers must know why... we are dehydrated, inhibited, censored shells of our former selves during and (especially) after camp. We are a tiny cog in the machine of the education bureaucracy in the beginning and a shade of that cog by the end. The lines of communication are cut in such a manner that it is difficult to contact each other let alone students or parents of students while Camp ensues. Camp is the "c" word... it is hell and continues to be hell.
As a professional; and having stated "what happens on camp, stays on camp", we laugh in the faces of the civilians that think this statement to be a joke. It is not. The shimmering vision of Sir's home, with almost katten and cat running wild, is a mere fantastic construct while one is on camp. The reality of night watch, outwitting 17 year olds and sexual harrassment, defusing "punch on" bombs, finding hidden girls and punishing the "party room", redirecting youths at large with nothing but voice and prior relationship (if any), is time consuming. So.... we don't sleep.
Yes there is a "Leaders" cabin. Where are the leaders? Who are the leaders? We are all. Awake, walking, roving, knocking on doors.... until 6am, thats where. What happens when a teacher goes to sleep? She wakes up another one to take her place. True? True.
This post is a pro teacher rant (of course), *but* also a pro queer teacher rant. There are lots of situations that occur on camp that are about he/she him/her them/they it's/his. There are also lots of situations that are about she/she, him/him, her/her, it/they. Where does Sir find herself? Right on the interface of he/her she/she it/them. Ha!
In the distance at home in the katten/cat haven, hearing the 6pm Buddist bell ring/the 7pm "homemade icecream" truck bell ring, this idea is at a very comfortable distance. But Sir does not want to relegate the things that happen on camp to the back parts of hir memory any more. There is a place for the queer peacemakers. And everyone knows it.
Why else put the two peaceful ladies (one openly queer, one extremely peaceful and forceful..... at 2am) in with the cook and the MC at the end of the cabin of interface? Because the cook and the MC will be exhausted and the queer will have control of those "strange girl" cabins. And will control those "strange girl" cabins. Again and again. The relationship is clear.
Will control. What a hatefu use of terminology. As if young people are to be controlled. No. Respect and unity. Love and kindness. Until disrespect... then, well, negotiation and trust. This point is crucial. Without trust, there is no relationship... ergo without trust there is no love.
Love of the other is not easy. This is why women and women of difference (colour, race, sexualiy, class, charisma, power) are separated aoutomatically by those in power. This is why the others are placed together.. to placate each other. Is this the best way to proceed? Perhaps... when we speak of youths that are queer and those that care for them. But adults? More, much more thought needed from those in the higher cogs of bureaucracy.
Friday, March 4
Wednesday, February 16
Saturday, February 12
The Blond Mohawk.
Some behaviours are hardwired, and some are not. Sir's new kiddies are just as quick to comment on her attractiveness with a blond muzza mohawk. Also the pointy black muzza shoes got some looks... but what of style?
The new insult of "that's so gay" must be surpassed by a new insult, when and if homophobia is ever discussed in schools in a thoughtful manner outside peer training groups and teacher leadership meetings. The news about homophobic teachers is not really news. Teachers are people, and people come with their own classist racist gender-crap ideas about who is equal and who is less equal. Truthfully? Sir finds it hard to identify as "butch", and probrably doesn't really understand what kids think when they look at her. Mostly is doesn't matter when it comes down to the nuts and bolts of teaching and developing realtionships with the kiddies. Occasionally a smart comment might waft into Sir's one hearing ear... but mostly it's little smiles and big boys that start off being obnoxious and end up having a conversation away from their snickering friends. The girls can be confused and often try to flirt, but that goes down like a lead balloon after a few dead pan looks and direct questions about poly peptide bonding or the "no mobile phone policy" in class.
It is important to be identified. The scrutiny of the teenage eye simply doesn't have an off switch.
If the identification is an outrageous steretoype, it creates safety around the ideas of sexuality for young people. True... that long legged straight acting English teacher might be a big ol' lesso or a tranny, that misogynist hairy may be a bisexual bear with cock sucking lips... who knows? But Sir is small in stature and definetely butch.
What does this mask of stereotypicity create in the classroom, corridors, yard duty, staff meetings, student/teacher/parent interaction? A mindfulness of "other" and an auto-check on language that may have been automatically homophobic. A certain carefulness descends on interactions. A thoughtful eavesdrop on a conversation that Sir may have with that 6 foot 4 boy about learning styles, that Tina Turner Vietnamese girl who wants to know how to solve simultaneous equations. A careful question, a thought out response. A meaningful interaction. Sometimes... Sir is given a large girth and ignored altogether. But pointedly and purposefully ignored.
For those of Sir's friends who are butch, these general reactions by the public to the space that is taken up by a butch body is not unfamiliar. Often hostile and always curious... intelligent people look away and then back later. Dumbasses look and then stare. It is both energy sapping and crushing at times for Sir to be the white (Sir knows... boo bloody hoo) person who stands out. But to stand out is to make a difference. To teach, speak, talk, interact and be kind makes a difference. To create safety as a visible dyke makes a difference. Just by being Sirself makes a big difference to the children she teaches, the streets she walks and the people she loves. This is the power that a stereotype and a visible gender queer identity can have.
And yes, sometimes Sir does have the odd "I just don't feel like being bucth" day.
The new insult of "that's so gay" must be surpassed by a new insult, when and if homophobia is ever discussed in schools in a thoughtful manner outside peer training groups and teacher leadership meetings. The news about homophobic teachers is not really news. Teachers are people, and people come with their own classist racist gender-crap ideas about who is equal and who is less equal. Truthfully? Sir finds it hard to identify as "butch", and probrably doesn't really understand what kids think when they look at her. Mostly is doesn't matter when it comes down to the nuts and bolts of teaching and developing realtionships with the kiddies. Occasionally a smart comment might waft into Sir's one hearing ear... but mostly it's little smiles and big boys that start off being obnoxious and end up having a conversation away from their snickering friends. The girls can be confused and often try to flirt, but that goes down like a lead balloon after a few dead pan looks and direct questions about poly peptide bonding or the "no mobile phone policy" in class.
It is important to be identified. The scrutiny of the teenage eye simply doesn't have an off switch.
If the identification is an outrageous steretoype, it creates safety around the ideas of sexuality for young people. True... that long legged straight acting English teacher might be a big ol' lesso or a tranny, that misogynist hairy may be a bisexual bear with cock sucking lips... who knows? But Sir is small in stature and definetely butch.
What does this mask of stereotypicity create in the classroom, corridors, yard duty, staff meetings, student/teacher/parent interaction? A mindfulness of "other" and an auto-check on language that may have been automatically homophobic. A certain carefulness descends on interactions. A thoughtful eavesdrop on a conversation that Sir may have with that 6 foot 4 boy about learning styles, that Tina Turner Vietnamese girl who wants to know how to solve simultaneous equations. A careful question, a thought out response. A meaningful interaction. Sometimes... Sir is given a large girth and ignored altogether. But pointedly and purposefully ignored.
For those of Sir's friends who are butch, these general reactions by the public to the space that is taken up by a butch body is not unfamiliar. Often hostile and always curious... intelligent people look away and then back later. Dumbasses look and then stare. It is both energy sapping and crushing at times for Sir to be the white (Sir knows... boo bloody hoo) person who stands out. But to stand out is to make a difference. To teach, speak, talk, interact and be kind makes a difference. To create safety as a visible dyke makes a difference. Just by being Sirself makes a big difference to the children she teaches, the streets she walks and the people she loves. This is the power that a stereotype and a visible gender queer identity can have.
And yes, sometimes Sir does have the odd "I just don't feel like being bucth" day.
Thursday, February 3
On "What teachers make"
Sir thought that this was a great way to start out on this year of the Rabbit.... :) More on the space Sir finds herself later...
Wednesday, December 22
Second Oasis = No DMZ
It has been a while since Sir wrote. Many good things have happened since that moment.
For example: Sir now sits in the oasis of West Foots. Ay!! You may say, why? Well, despite the obvious answers in terms of proximity to the wilde west, perhaps this picture can give you a clue.... the birds are fed ( of course) and so are the fish (outside and pampered inside), and so is the beautiful little girl (of course, of couuuurrsse, purr)
Despite the many flaws of the inner western suburbs (inner... bah! 25 minutes on a lazy day to Carlton... but not for the city views)... well actually Sir cannot think of many flaws. Sir did witness a drive by drug deal while Sir was brushing the cat...& there are (shock) often bins left on the nature-strip well after rubbish day... also, Sir does guess Totty is a chrome fest and the Totty homeless chromers fire at night is just up the road.
There is no chain reaction, well should Sir say Bogan_Lawn_Markov_Chain. Also, Sir's first intuition to the whippershnapper was a good one... many many whippersnappers here... why? No big ass lawns!! Hah!!
But hey, Sir & her clan are the dignified social climbers... Sir and her clan can deviate from these paths. More of paths in this new place later...
In fact the absence of a DMZ is beautiful.
Sir sees people walking too and fro, cycling to and fro, nay waiting outside their homes for a taxi!! Walking down the street! Even talking to each other, gosh ... well, even talking to utter strangers!!
One lovely lady in pink , with large shoes and proscription sunglasses with fruity breath gave Sir a "Merry Christmas Love.... gosh and you are so pretty too!" Ha! The wonder at being his/herself on the way to get take-aways Indian.
So now that the children are fed, the arabic coffee wafts over the fence, in and outwards to the neighbours, the taxi pulls in to next door for the nightshift... sigh. It can't get much better than this.
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