Yeh this is the polite version of the thrusted middle finger.
I was telling the Grandie boy a school story this week. I was at the convent and not doing mindlessly as I was told. There was a nun there, Sister Francis, we all called her Sister Flopper cos she had the biggest swinging breasts I have ever seen. She was a big fierce bully of a woman. I think she taught Maths. Anyway, I clearly got up her nose, all the time, maybe cos I wasn't Catholic or maybe it was just cos I was none too compliant. I don't remember doing anything purposefully to annoy her except for this one afternoon when she kept me back after school. This was quite a big deal, cos my travel home was tightly scheduled; walk the kilometres to the train station and then the train took about 45 minutes which sounds do-able, but there weren't many trains so if you missed the proper one then the travel home was SLOW, and I was only 12 and there of course were no mobile phones and I suppose it could have caused the old woman some concern, if we imagined that she had even noticed. Anyway, old Sister Flopper had me corralled into a corner, hands on her impressive hips leaning in at me and spit dribbled and flew as she shouted, 'Suzanne you have bold written all over your face!' I remember backing away from her boobs and spit as far as I could, and I started wiping my hands all over my face, more than likely in a very theatrical manner, and then I locked on eye contact, in a very bold manner and said, 'Oh dear, is it gone now?' Well she went frantic mental and how I didn't get beaten I do not know.
I didn't run for the train which I possibly could have been in time for. I walked sedately away feeling very pleased with myself. It was one of only a couple of times I was cheeky to teachers at school, but I felt righteous. I wasn't a rude little blighter, will-full and opinionated and brave but not cheeky for cheeky's sake.
Manners nearly always won out. I mean manners are automatic aren't they? Well for someone of my vintage whose childhood was filled with, 'Respect your elders' 'What do you say?' 'MANNERS MANNERS MANNERS'
Even today I need to prime myself to be really rude to someone, cos like old Pavlo's dog, my training kicks in and 'Thank you', 'Excuse me', and 'Please' fall out, even when it's the last thing I fancy saying.
And so we get to the point of this post, I don't understand how the Grandie Boy's Head Teacher can consistently ignore email after email requesting information about the young fella's progress or well being.
The Head Teacher is of an age, similar to me and I can't imagine that manners weren't drummed fiercely into him, so he must be working against basic rote training of youth to be rude enough to continually ignore his correspondence. I just don't want to believe that he is so rude that this ignorant behaviour sits well with him. I don't want to believe this cos he has a hand in rearing generations of children and it would be dreadful to think that he has had a hand in training thousands of kids to be little rude turds.
So I imagine that Education Queensland has sent out an edict that staff are not to respond to emails in writing, cos heaven forbid, an educated, normal, level headed, staff member, would say something litigious. Better by far to appear to be the rudest ignorant fool than to use old fashioned manners and a few brains with a sense of propriety. And sadly he may have bought into this, without question, without wonder, and without deciding that the instruction was bullshit so he'll ignore it.
The systematic 6 years of bullying has not been addressed.
And this week some little thieving snot of a kid slunk into my darling boy's bag and took his Pokemon book full of all his favourite cards, which of course just happen to be the expensive ones, cards that he saved up for, cards that he had paid off 'lay-bys' on, cards that he has spent days showing me and telling me all about. He's been collecting them since before it was a trendy thing to do.
Both he and I had a little cry when he told me how he thought it might have happened, and how he knew he was never gonna get 'em back
And so the latest email asked for follow-up on the theft, but no response has been received.
This is just not satisfactory!
Back in the day, before it was all the rage to protect school reputations by with holding information when kids did shitful stuff, and dealing with it 'in-house', the police were called. So if there were drugs found, the police were called. If a teacher was assaulted the police were called. If a theft occurred the police were called. But now I suppose it's not kind to the school and the police are too busy with other stuff.
But what sense of justice do you think this crop of kids is learning. What my Grandie has learnt is that there is no point reporting bullying or theft, cos it just doesn't make any damn difference and the turdy snots have learnt that they can and do get away with all manner of shit behaviour and if they are caught, it's only by the teachers and the consequences are bugger all - maybe some time out, so they can have a real good look at their stolen bounty.
And the Head teacher has learnt that the Department line insulates him from the ire of the people he is meant to be working for. He must feel like such a winner.
Did I say winner? I meant weak willed wanker.