what teacher made the kids write lines in blackboard jungle

by Dr. Wilmer Shields 3 min read

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

It has been a long time away. I ran my own private language school in the third world. I got cancer & emigrated to the UK. I started work at a massive (& superb) academy.

Thursday, December 01, 2011

My phone buzzes during poetry class. The plumber is coming, and I can't afford to miss his text. I blush, and check the phone as surreptitiously as I can, which is to say, in full glaring adolescent spotlight.

Wednesday, November 07, 2007

So Holly is learning English with me, and at the local uni ( pffft! ), and simultaneously on the internet. I realise this when she knows every slang word to every pop song, and when she drops her pencil, and accompanies it with a loud "Fuck!"

Sunday, July 15, 2007

But that wasn't why I stopped writing. I got a job - in addition to the other two jobs I was working - training future English teachers, in a local pedagogical institute. Twenty hours a week, contact time (teaching time, to the un-industrialised): it didn't seem a lot.

Friday, December 22, 2006

It's a shock, the transfer from teaching at a British state school to teaching at a small school in private sector Peru.

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Like a naughty child avoiding her homework, I've secretly started teaching again.

Sunday, May 14, 2006

Do I miss teaching? Yes, of course. There were moral certainties involved in a job like that (which appeal to someone lazy like myself, because then I don't have to sit around and invent my own moral certainties).

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