My colleagues were strangely animated in our little kitchen, I was curious before I heard what it was about. Then I got even more curious: a fire drill! I’ve never done that as a teacher! I will actually have to lead people, and worse, little people. How will it go?
We practiced it ourselves, it looked easy enough, there should be no problem.
“What’s fire drill in Spanish again?”
“I’ll come up to tell the kids” our Spanish administrator (not sure what job title to give her, she’s so much more than a receptionist, she’s the heart of our language school really!) told me.
“I can do it” I said, “I’ve 10 and 13-year-olds today, their English isn’t too bad.”
So off I went, what went, marched proudly that yeah man, my Spanish is good enough to say “Today fire drill. Practise not real!”
It wasn’t bad actually. I did surprise my students enough with speaking Spanish (I never do) that they paid attention and understood everything.
First class, done. Second class done. Teenagers, no problem. Adults? Well… I was so into my motherly shepherding the little ones behaviour, I forgot to turn it off.
“Line up in front of the door, leave the bags and we’ll go together.”
We went. We arrived. There’s no-one else.
Off I go to find our office angel (yes, I think that’s an appropriate title for her) to find out what’s happening.
“You don’t do the simulation with the adults, remember?”
“We just show them this is the sound, and you explain them what to do.”
Well, we’ve done a little but more, but hey!
“That’s it,” I tell my group, “we’re in the clear. We’ve survived.”
I don’t tell them why the other groups didn’t do it. You gotta save face after all.
Picture sourced from Vector Magz. I’d credit the creator but couldn’t find it.