We were in on it together from the start. We shared knowing winks and giggles. We pulled hilarious faces behind her back. We were joint conspirators, tied together by our misdeeds; brothers and sisters united in a confederacy of illicit humour; partners in comedic crime.
At least, that’s what I thought. But then they dropped me in it at the first opportunity. How sharper than several serpents’ teeth it is to teach thankless children.
It began with a puppet. We use them quite a lot in the integrated resource unit where I teach on Thursdays. The children there have learning difficulties and puppets are great for helping with storytelling and for developing communication skills. They also cause minimal damage when children hit each other on the head with them. Today I decided to use puppets to re-enact the story of Jack and the Beanstalk.
After some discussion, the children chose the boy puppet with the freckles and the stub nose to play Jack; the old man with the bald head and flat cap to play the shady character with the magic beans; and the mad woman with the wild expression and a shock of curly black hair to play Jack’s mother. The giant was played by a child called Benjy, because it was generally agreed that he had the most authentic “Fee-fi-fo-fum”. The supporting cast included a plastic hen from the farmyard, a hand-knitted cow and a ukulele substituting for a harp.
Puppet master
Now it is a fact that something very peculiar happens when I use puppets in the classroom. This might sound crazy, but somehow they develop a life of their own. It’s almost like instead of me controlling their every word and action, they begin to control mine. From the very moment I stuck my hand up Jack’s Mum’s rear end and looked her in the face, I knew that she would take charge of all of my actions. Worse still, I knew exactly who she had turned into. Who could fail to recognise that unruly hair and wild-eyed stare? It couldn’t be anybody other than…Mrs Hackles.
Jack’s Mum not only began to speak in Mrs Hackles’ voice, she also used her favourite Hackle-isms including ones like: “Have you got ants in your pants?”, “Why is your face longer than Norfolk Street?” and “Thank you for doing my head in!” By the time we got to the point in the story where Jack’s Mum was threatening her son with the naughty chair for swapping a whole cow for a few beans, the children’s laughter had attracted the attention of the real-life Mrs Hackles.
“Now listen carefully, kids,” I whispered. “She’s coming over to see what all the fuss is about and I don’t want her to find out that we’ve been making fun of her. That’s why I need you to promise me something.”
And so a pact was made and a code of secrecy established: even under the most intimidating of questioning, the children would refuse to drop me in it.
A few seconds later, in walked Mrs Hackles, and the rest, as they say, is treachery.
Steve Eddison teaches at Arbourthorne Community Primary School in Sheffield
