The Story of Ella Zen

MUFTI.

Yesterday, Friday July 13th 2007, was mufti day at Rather Convincing but Nonetheless Entirely Fictional Name Secondary College: for those of you not up with the intricacies of British English, the concept of “mufti” is that the pupils (and staff) are able to wear casual clothes to school instead of uniform. Usually British schools allow this sort of thing near the end of the school year, and charge small-coin for the privilege with the money going to a suitable cause.


Well, with the date being what it was (Friday 13), it was decided to have an “inverse day”, with pupils dressing as if they were teachers and teachers…well you get the point.


I was well pleased with the efforts of my group, they who once were “Miss Ellison’s Home Class” and now belong to Juffrou DeKievert, (but are still called 9EN). Many of the boys came in trendy tracksuits, claiming to be “PE Department”, although one had hired a priest outfit from an outfitter and came as the school chaplain. There were three boys and nine girls in Geneva gowns and mortar boards (which of course we don’t actually wear as teachers, but the concept was good); two of these girls also carried canes and were calling themselves “Ms Alison” and “Ms DeKiwi”. (Hmm, wonder what that was supposed to mean?) The fact that Ms Alison kept calling everyone “mate” and saying “crikey” all the time, (I don’t do that, I don’t, I don’t!), added to the character study: I was touched, but Hanie was a bit annoyed to have been made into a New Zealander. (Well, you would be, wouldn’t you?) Most of the other senior kids were in suits and the like, quite smart they looked too, and even the year sevens (our babies) had made the effort.


But you don’t want to hear about them do you, you want to hear about how the teachers dressed up as children. Yes, you do.


The seniors insisted upon being addressed by their surnames whilst in character, and that the teachers be addressed as children, i.e. by first names. Most of the teachers agreed to this, but some of the sticks-in-the-mud refused on this point. Enter the three sticks, from Humanities. There’s no way I’m having kids calling me “Kirsten”, after all I’m Behaviour Support Teacher, I need to have some shred of distance, and Daniel and Hanie agreed on the basis that Daniel is a senior teacher in school, (member of Management, and a department head), and that as it’s entirely not-the-done-thing in Zuit Afrika it would actually upset Hanie’s train of thought.


(Boo and hiss all you like, we don’t care!)


So, so. So we compromised. Daniel Roberts became “Rob”, Johanna DeKievert became “Dixie”, and you should have already worked out what Kirsten Ellison went in as.


So there I was, taking up a teaching load today, walking around the school being addressed by everyone as “Ella” and wearing a uniform borrowed off one of the girls in Upper Sixth (year thirteen). Yes, I was actually dressed in the school’s own girls’ uniform, complete with piggy tail hair, “Rob” and “Dixie” had also managed to borrow kit from the children, but none of the other teachers had so they’d had to make do with suit trousers with jumpers or shorter skirts and girlie hair, although three of the youngest women still had (and still fitted) their uniforms from a decade ago. Once again Humanities leads the way…go Humanities!


(Yes, okay, all well and good Kirsten, we like the idea of you dressed up as a school girl, but when do we get to the spanking part?)


And so it was, that after a lesson with each teacher’s home group, (Hanie and I shared), all of the school met in the assembly hall for a big quiz, with a prize of sweets for the winning class. Two boys, two girls, and one teacher on each team: my class nominated me to the team, (which Hanie was relieved by), and so up we went.


And we won. C’MON!! (Insert Lleyton Hewitt style fist pumping here.)


A huge victory for 9EN, we beat off 10LN in the Final with Ella absolutely wiping the floor with Sarah (Mrs Lennon) in the “teacher round”, having disposed of lesser teams in our wake during the Round of Eight and the Semi Finals. A small celebration ensued, my two lovely boys doing a little haka for us all, (females don’t haka in Maori culture and I respect that), while Hanie lead the class in a surprise rendition of “Ella, Ella, Ella!, Oi, Oi, Oi!” and Ella had her hands on the big trophy to pass around at playtime.


After play we had a whole school assembly, with awards for the week and a short message from our chaplain. School actually ends next Thursday, so this wasn’t the big farewell, but it was nice to have our last Friday assembly with such fun. The Head had remained in “teacher attire”, but was indeed wearing the gown and hat of a traditional educator. As was usual there was a bit of serious stuff at assembly with a list of children who had won merit awards being presented with them, and a warning that some children were getting close to the other end of the spectrum with “red letters” going home to parents. (Next stage is suspension, and yes the letters do actually go home on pink paper.) One child had her name mentioned at this point, (we don’t usually “name” children in this category), the unfortunate girl being the RE prize-winner “Ella Zen”, who was not in correct uniform.


Ooops!


I was taken by surprise by this, what had I done? Quick scan: nicely polished brown strappy shoes (mine), school approved tights (mine), school issue skirt, school issue blouse, school issue tie, school issue jumper, school issue blazer (all borrowed and all in excellent condition), SRC badge pinned in the place above the crest on the blazer pocket. What’s wrong? I was called out to the front, (also not the done thing, we don’t shame kids here), and put on display. Who can tell me what is wrong with Ella’s outfit? asked the Head. Two things: I was in winter uniform, not summer, and my piggy tails were held in with black elastics rather than the stipulated “own hair colour” (brown), “own house colour” (blue), or “school colours”. Add to this that Ella is a member of SRC, (I am actually), and should therefore be setting a better example for the younger members of the school; what shall be done? Of course all of the kids yelled out “put her on detention”, (rotten little buggers). Sadly that’s not what happened: as this had in fact been set up by Daniel and Hanie, all the teachers yelled out (on the count of three), “give her the slipper!”, to which the children were all delighted to join in.


Ella: But sir, corporal punishment has been banned in England for over twenty years.

Sir: Yes Ella, but the ban stipulates that no child born after 1976 may be physically punished: I believe you were born before that year? That’s the wording of the law.

Ella: But if that’s the wording of the law then it still doesn’t apply as I am not a “child”.


The Head asked what the school thought of that argument. Daniel suggested it was “weak” and 9EN in unison chanted “weak, weak, weak” with a certain South African cheer-leader taking great delight in conducting that. (She was in summer uniform and with her hair pinned.)


Ella: Betrayed!

Sir: Sentenced.

Ella: Okay then, but I’m keeping all the lollies from the quiz, no sweets for 9EN!


Hanie lead a short chant of “worth it! worth it!” to which the room erupted in laughter, including those on stage. (Including Ella.) The Head motioned for silence, and then unleashed a huge cheer:


Sir: Rob and, uh, Dixie is it? Yes, fetch the slipper!


Quietly he asked me if this was okay, it’s all part of the fun Kirsten, but I know how you feel about the corporal punishment of children, indeed it’s why I’m so pleased to have you on Leadership as Behaviour Support Teacher. I reminded him, with a wink, that I’m not a child. He smiled and patted my hand.


Rob: Excuse me sir, here’s the slipper.

Dixie: Ja, the slipper.

Sir: Thank you children, and allow me to say you look very smart in your uniforms; now Ella, why can’t you be more like Rob and Dixie?

Ella: Because I choose to be kind to my friends sir.


A big cheer of “ooh” from the assembly, I see Sarah Lennon clapping madly there.


Sir: Right Ella, we’ve not done this here for a while, but I’m sure you know what to do.

Ella: Yes sir.


I bend forward and put my hands on my knees.


Sir: Ah, no Ella.


The head sat down on his chair and patted his lap. Surely he could not be serious? But then, was any of this serious? Another huge cheer from the assembly. I stand up and walk across to him, hands behind my back, face down, and looking very contrite.


Sir: I thought our Behaviour Support Prefect would know better than that. Bend over, across my knee Ella.


So there we were, my Head dressed in black gown and mortar board hat, and me in the uniform of an eighteen year old girl, bent over his knee and about to be slippered. I didn’t bother asking Hanie to take a photo as I knew none of you would be interested in that sort of thing, although Daniel got one on his phone.


There were three big smacks, hard enough to look convincing but still obviously staged: but since I was “in position” in front of the whole school most of the point of being spanked was in place for me anyway. Nonetheless I made appropriately gruesome faces and big shrieks, to rapturous applause. It’s amazing, I actually know what sound a big girl makes when she gets spanked. (Amazing.)


School ended with a big lunch together in the dining hall and the teachers (that is to say, the pupils in mufti) went home at 1:50, while the children, (adults in uniform) stayed back to tidy up and make plans for the final week of school. We have a sports carnival next week: one day of athletics and another of swimming; along with balls for KS4 and AS Leavers, and a KS3 bloc-party. It’s going to be a fun week.


By the way, I did keep all the lollies, but I shared them with Sarah Lennon. But not with Hanie or Daniel. With friends like these, who needs enemas?