Reading Week

As the title might subtly suggest, it's reading week. This means that all English lectures are cancelled and therefore my free time increases. Since I am a stupid moron, and have enrolled into the B. Ed course, I cannot spend this time reading literature and literary theory but have to spend it writing Education write-ups, a series of ten luvly essays which were supposed to be inspired by our ten observation sessions, which are now thankfully over. Thankfully also, I've arrived at essay number nine. Phew! Now, as you may have gathered, Educational Theory is not a subject that particularly tickles my fancy. It conjures up sad images of the scene in those civil service offices in those satires about 70's and 80's Malta. (anyone remember l-astronawta?). I don't know why I make such a horrifying connection, but I just can't help it. Maybe it's the rickety benches and chairs in our schools, maybe it's the yellow painted walls, maybe it's those grey uniforms, or the yellow maps on the walls. Or else it is those social studies books, infested with countless hideous pictures of Maltese women with hideous eighties hairstyles and hideous eighties glasses working in bleak and yes, you guessed it, hideous factories. It might also be the aroma that greets you as you pass by the toilets, or the faulty door handles. The list is endless.

But, then again, maybe it's something else. Maybe it's (some of) the teachers. I hate to admit it, but some teachers are simply domestic. Their main concerns in life include the maintenance of the parquet in their living room, the flowers for their upcoming wedding, the highlights in their hair and the colour of their curtains. Now I am not saying that I do not think of trivial things, (cos I OFTEN do), but you know what kind of people I'm talking about, and I'm sure you wouldn't like to think that they're responsible for the education of the young intellects of our beloved nation.

I'm not saying that all teachers are like that - I have had a considerable number of teachers who have inspired me in many ways. However the occurence of such inappropriate teachers among the teaching population is alarmingly high, and I guess the boring stuff that is shoved down our throats during the course at university is partly to blame. It would be hilarious, if it weren't tragic, to examine the petty details which get students an F during teaching practice. When one is expected to give attention to all these useless little things, it is almost inevitable that his/her mind goes through automatic self-dumbification. (I don't think that word even exists.) Maybe one day, I'll end up talking about parquet and curtains too.

Teachers should be a shining example of intellectual excellence to our students, and the phrase 'stupid teachers' should become an oxymoron rather than an accepted convention.

Let's hope I'll survive these four years without any nervous breakdowns, schizophrenia, or other related mental problems. And let's hope I don't dumbify even more than I have either.

Cheerio,
Elizabeth.