There are good years in teaching, just as there are in wine-making.
Some years produce a full-bodied vintage of budding physicists, doctors and computer scientists; others satisfy the less discerning palate with a bland array of glib-tongued sales executives, politicians and media moguls.
Every graduation day, we teachers bid farewell to the procession of high achievers, slow-burners and the inevitable crop of ‘can’t be arsed, just point me towards the Benefits Office’.
You did your best. For some that wasn’t enough.
So you just have to hope. Give it more time. Every now and then, there’s a secondary fermentation.
Life is slowly moving from 1st gear to 2nd and the calendar is rapidly filling up with long overdue visits to dentists, opticians, hairdressers and social activities. Pleased to have found a few minutes to rejoin Friday Fictioneers – I’ve been MIA on several occasions just recently. Thanks to Rochelle for her dedication to our international group of writers.