Today was another busy day down the mine, or should I say Library. 40 kids running riot around a library with me running around shouting shh, shhhhhhhh. ...or the other favourite, QUUUIIIEEEETTTT.
We have a reading zone - note the careful choice of words there - Reading Zone. Do you see chat anywhere in that sentence? Nope, neither do I. So out of the 40 or so children about 15 were in the small reading area, blithely chatting away as if talk was going out of fashion.
We have a lovely reading area, a lovely black leather sofa, a couple of comfy chairs, a small square table and a few bean bags. The plan was to create a lovely environment where they could feel they could read in peace. Of course in practice that is not what happens...
Several year 7 and 8s descended on the library at 3.50. Huh? The school day doesn't end until 4.00. Anyway, they come in, sign the sheet and head straight for the 'reading zone'. I check they've signed in and follow them giving them the riot act, ie. this part of the room is for reading, I expect to see it after in the same condition as they found it and no, they can't chat and yes the guiness book of records is OK as long as they are quiet about it.
Job done for ten minutes, I go to sit down back at the desk. Wait! what's that, is it giggling I hear? After a long heartfelt sigh, I close the cataloguing window again, (will I ever get any work done in the late shift?) and lock the computer screen and trundle back to the corner where the reading zone is kept.
One boy is lolling on a bean bag groaning with the other kids pointing and giggling. I manage to calm them down with crossed arms and a magnificent glare (if I say so myself) and get told "Miss, he got hit in the ghoulies with a football'
Now what I ask you was I supposed to reply to that?
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