After an incubation period of eight weeks, the new me, the infants teacher, has emerged from a cocoon of chaotic confusion. It was a difficult birth, made smoother by reading many volumes, listening to the advice of kind colleagues, immersing myself in art, music and drama, and, above all, observing with refined precision the behaviour the new pupils in my care.
After almost two decades teaching the amenable, docile, reasonable third and fourth classes, drastic changes in personnel in our academy dictated that I move down along the pedagogical ladder to the combined junior and senior infant classes.
Like Pokemon, I have evolved, and with my new role comes some drastic changes. Firstly a complete change of wardrobe was definitely de rigueur. Gone are the snappy knee-length skirt suits with cravat and high-heeled shoes. Impossible to be an infants teacher dressed like that.
In are the baggy slacks, the loose jumpers and the loafers. The pedagogue has become surrogate mother, nurse, entertainer, cleaner-upper and sweet-dispenser. Never a day goes by, now, without my having to kneel, crawl, stretch, jump, open bottles and mop up spillages.
The well-manicured, polished nails are a thing of the past. Modelling clay and construction games and the sand table and knotted wet shoe-laces play havoc with nails. Far better to file them down and keep a nail brush by the classroom sink. Gone, too, is the slim brief-case, and in its place is a chunky, Red Riding Hood-type basket containing copies and stampers and flash cards and bars and freshly laundered towels and batteries and string.
When I first started teaching in a big city school there was an elderly teacher who wore a housecoat all day, and I felt quite repulsed by it. Now, after all these years, I can empathise with her, though I prefer to forego the apron just yet. However, I have learned never to wear any of my good gowns into the classroom any more, and lately I find I'm always on the look-out for sweatshirts and jeans when I'm shopping.
I don't like these changes in my lifestyle. I liked the look of the professional woman. But it's simply not practical for me any more. At the moment I can work better with the infants dressed like an ageing hippie, so I'll stick with it. I hope the apparel does not proclaim the woman.
