I was sitting in the staff-room today (after a rather eventful early morning), trying my best not to dehydrate in the oppressive heat, when I heard some pupils chanting, “We want Jon!”
The sound of demonstrating travelled across the playground and ended somewhere in or near the entrance to the school’s front doors, where it stopped when met by the headmaster, Naged.
I had told the children yesterday, during our last lesson of the year, that it was uncertain that, due to time constraints, I’d be their teacher next year.
I felt it was suitable to tell them, to finish our 4 years together in an appropriate manner, and I never expected to hear later on that day that they were planning to appeal.
I have had good relations with the pupils in 4a for a few years now, but this year in particular things have really come together, and I have a lot of time and respect for them as a class. It bought a smile to my lips and a warm feeling to hear a chorused demand for my continuation. A warmth that was not diminished by the searing sun.
As much as I’d love to own a couple of these Atari candle holders, it appears that they are not on general sale. It’s such a brilliant, simple idea that I hope someone else jumps on the bandwagon and mass-produces them, if