Handwriting of a wimpy teacher 1

I forgot to mention how good the spanking I got was when mom returned to find her shop half-gone to charity.
I used to think teaching kids was the most daunting task anyone could take on but when I arrived my first class with students at Baptist theological seminary ogbomosho, Nigeria I realized I was grossly mistaken.
Well, funny enough mom also enrolled in the class for computer training, I am now faced with the task of teaching Abrahams and Methuselahs how to operate a plane, thank God they ride this plane solo.
Well so far so good, its 19th october 2013, 1 week into the two weeks training and we are still alive. Teaching the elderly ones made me realize the basic fears a teacher should encounter and overcome;
1. What is the start and stop, when do we know that knowledge has been acquired.
2. When it comes to adult school, oh there will be a lot of time-outs “excuse me please, think I need a piss…… Sorry its the big one”
3. What if everyone needs you to take a look at something that just ran out of place, at the same time.
4. Then finally, they also clap and jump like the child when he gets his rhythm done well.
Its absurd to know that despite how simple these fears sound, a teacher who has not encountered them is either too good to be true or is just shoving notes down student’s throats.
I remember once while in primary school I had taken up a mock riot shout, jumping on my desk and yelling deaths at the girl who had slapped a boy. At first we were quite a number yelling the guts but I had this special ability to get into the fever of war, I had rancour in my heart and loved to hail a good fight yet I would never throw a punch meself. Suddenly it was only my yell that rang down the class corridors, when I turned to see why my comrades had left me hanging in the heat of war, it was HELL “Mr. Benjamin”.

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