This afternoon I was reading about the history, not to say the rise and fall, of the communicative approach to English teaching. The old attention span was shrinking somewhat so I made industrial strength coffee and plundered Herself’s supply of ice cream to give me a sugar boost.
The phone rang. Can I start work next week? I was a bit stunned because nothing was expected in this line before Monday, and I’m trying to be all clever and professional and the fucking ice-cream’s melting all over A Context Approach to Language Learning. Yes. I can.
It’s beginning to sink in now (the idea of getting a job, not the ice cream). A proper job!
It’s the very bottom rung of the ladder, so far as teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages goes, but it’s a huge breakthrough. Those of us who have been teaching English abroad have a reputation back home in Blighty, not entirely undeserved, for drunkenness, drug misuse and a penchant for heading towards the airport at the first sign of job dissatisfaction. At last I’ve been able to present myself as responsible, and unlikely to turn up for work fucked-up on dope or smelling of strong drink.
Hurrah for common sense!