Teacher: “When do you think they’ll finally make computers that never go wrong?”
AngryTechnician: “The same time they start making children that never throw up in your classroom.”
Teacher: “You must feel like your job is never-ending with all the things that go wrong.”
AngryTechnician: “You get a new class of kids every year, surely yours is never-ending too?”
Teacher: “Don’t you ever get sick of working with computers?”
AngryTechnician: “Don’t you ever get of sick of working with children?”
One of the odd things about working in a school is that the majority of the staff all have exactly the same profession, and almost all of them enjoy their job and view it as a career (except for the rare miserable git who is only still teaching because they’d otherwise be unemployed). Sure, there are specialist teachers for different subjects, but they are all teachers, and that makes it very easy for them to relate to one another. This mutual understanding breeds a mentality where they forget that it’s quite normal not to understand some of your co-workers jobs. They look at the rest of us with puzzlement, and begin to assume, even if only subconsciously, that everyone else in the school who isn’t a teacher must be unhappy in their job, or find it very frustrating.
Therefore, I must look at them and long to be a teacher. My job must be horrible, and be absolutely nothing like teaching in any way. In fact, there are some interesting similarities. We both spend all day attempting to convince our charges to behave and follow instructions – charges that are prone to sudden strops without warning, produce large amounts of hot air when there are more than a few of them in one room, and generally respond badly to physical violence (as much as we would wish otherwise).
For the first 2 years in my last school I was asked if I wanted to become a teacher on an almost fortnightly basis (often by the same people). It only stopped after I started responding, “No, I hate children. Why else would I work in a school?”