In Edinburgh Botanic Gardens, resting my Super Powers |
At half term I returned to being full-time mother and
daughter in a disorienting programme of visits to see my sons in Edinburgh and
Bristol and my parents in Cornwall. On
Monday, however, I pinned my hair back into a bun, perched my glasses on my
nose, donned a work jacket and returned to being old Dr Hobba the crusty Latin
teacher at a local school.
It’s a bit like being a superhero. Inside, I find some of the things the pupils
say hilarious. In my head, I use some
choice words, when I am thwarted. But I
must keep these super powers hidden.
Pupils like to think that teachers are completely unable to access their
in-jokes, and actually probably don’t even know any swear words.
It’s all about boundaries.
The only time one crosses them is to reprimand a pupil who is covertly (ha!)
being mean to a classmate. At this
point, the selective deafness has to break down, rather like one of those
old-fashioned hearing-aids which would unpredictably pick up a private aside on
the other side of the room.
The pupils look at each other with amazement: it is as if
Clarke Kent just morphed into Superman before their very eyes. Not only did old Dr Hobba hear what they just
said, she even appeared to understand it.