Greves

On Thursday, there was a big greve. Greve is a word I have come to know well. It means strike. It doesn't function as a verb like strike does though. A strike is un greve, and to be on strike is to be en greve. You can't greve though like you can strike. This time, the teachers (not all of them) were on greve to protest a new proposition concerning substitute teachers. Now, in middle and high school a teacher can't have a substitute unless they're going to be gone for at least 2 weeks. If a teacher is gone, class is cancelled. The government wants to make it mandantory for a teacher's collegues to take their classes instead of hiring a sub. Often other teachers would be happy to take over for another, but they don't want it to be obligatory. Since half the teachers were gone, three of my seven classes were canceled. My four morning classes on Thursdays are fantastic - nice kids, who are smart, attentive and enthusiastic. Since I only take half a class at a time, the half of Gearldine's class that I was supposed to have did in fact show up, along with one from the other half who asked me if he could sit in on my class since Gearldine wasn't there! Two of the four fantastic classes didn't show. In the afternoon my last class of the day (from 430-530) was horrifying. They're fifteen, and although they don't have mean spirits, they're out of control with the disclipine, or rather lack thereof. There's only fifteen of them and a few boys in back were putting gum in each others hair, consequently cutting it out of their hair, and one of them threw a book out the window. It was really great. I needed a cocktail afterwards...