Of Waterbombs and Detentions

Thursday afternoon was the Yr 9 'Year Level Outing', organised by their young and enthusiastic Year Level Co-ordinator. When he announced it at Assembly I felt he was being generous and perhaps a little foolish. They are a particularly unpleasant group, being Yr 9 and all, and they need very little excuse to run riot. When, however, he announced that there would be water bombs involved, I felt he had lost his tiny little mind. When I discovered that I was rostered to ATTEND this act of complete lunacy I considered some self inflicted wounds.

The plan was to walk the 100+ pupils down to the nearest park where a series of games would be laid out. At each 'station', a large wheelie bin, containing water bombs stood next to a variety of cone markers, upended tables, flags in bins and long benches. There were 6 different activities ranging through 'Capture The Flag' and 'Saving Private Ryan' to 'Barricades' and 'Obstacles'. The premise for all of them was simple. Complete the task without getting wet.

With military precision the enthusiastic Year Level Co-ordinator had calculated the exact number of waterbombs required for each game, two per team member, and bagged them up in black garbage bags inside the large wheelie bins. Each teacher had a detailed plan explaining the nature/rules of the games, the order of rotation round the stations and lists of the 10 kids on their team etc. There was no reason for it not to go like clockwork.

Except that there was Year 9 involved.

I cannot do justice in diary form to the level of chaos that followed. To be fair, 70% of the pupils entered into the spirit of the event with a sense of fair play and an intuitive knowledge of the boundaries, the other 30% however took testosterone, teenage egocentricity and the fact that they have no boundaries, right to the edge of health, safety and vandalism.

Thing is, I knew it was going to happen! I mean I know I am now officially one of the 'oldies' in the staffroom (funny...I was one of the 'young ones' for such a long time) and we as a group had discussed the foolishness and inappropriateness of the venture for some days beforehand. I know I am no longer as physically able to engage in the 'hijinks' of end of term, much as I might like to, for one thing the kids would think I was ridiculous! It is one thing for a young (in his twenties), fit, athletic sports teacher to belt around all over the shop pelting water bombs at people, it is quite another matter when the middle-aged wrinkly lady with glasses tries it. BUT surely the younger staff members could SEE where this was going??

Apparently not. I was assured that it was all 'good fun'. I announced myself 'party pooper' and 'old fogey' before anyone else could do it and acknowledged that this type of student/teacher bonding was probably out of my skill set now. I gritted my teeth and made a joke out of the fact that this was going to be a torturous afternoon for me. The young staff went smiling, off over the horizon.

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To be continued...

image credit: waterbombs: wikipedia