Paedo Tefler Alert!

A couple of years or so back, this blog played a role in blowing the whistle on a well-known Tefl paedo called called James Fraser Darling (still in China, we believe). Well, Sandy has been contacted again recently by a person seeking to find another Tefl pervert, this time a creep who goes by the name of Nigel Russell Harris.

You can read more about this vile slug here:

http://www.thestandard.com.hk/news_detail.asp?pp_cat=30&art_id=97585&sid=27995995&con_type=1

http://www.thehindu.com/news/international/article415257.ece

He was last heard of in Hong Kong, but his current whereabouts is now unknown. He might possibly be in China somewhere, perhaps working for EF, as James Fraser Darling was. Maybe EF are up to their old tricks of providing work for sickos again?!

Please post any information that you might have about this menace as a comment below.

Greetings from Asbury Park?

Well, it's not quite the Asbury Park that I was expecting - and it's nothing like the Asbury Park that Broooooce made famous - but the McManus family's annual caravanning experience is currently under way at the place pictured alongside. Wish you were here?

BTW, I've been far too lazy to publish my annual warning about working on ripoff summer schools, so I'll just refer yous all to my previous apology for a very similar dose of torpor. Now that I'm "down with the pikeys", I seem to have lost all enthusiasm for blogging. Lucky I'm still a dedicated Tefler, though, eh!?

British Council 'not ready' for zombie attack

A worried member of the Tefl profession has forced the British Council to admit it is unprepared for a zombie invasion of under-qualified ‘instructors’. The BC received a Freedom of Information request which said provisions to deal with such an attack, often seen in teacher-training horror films, were poor.

The ‘concerned Tefler’ said the possibility of such an event was one that the Council should be aware of, especially when considering that the salaries offered for many of their teaching posts were so much below par that the term ‘instructor’ is now used in their recruitment advertisements.

That Letter in Full

Dear British Council,

Can you please let us know what provisions you have in place in the event of a zombie Tefler invasion? Having watched several teacher-training films, it is clear that preparation for such an event is poor and one that British Councils throughout the world must prepare for – a sudden influx of under-qualified instructors who are hired on the cheap.

Please provide any information you may have.

Yours faithfully,

Concerned Tefler

"We've had a few wacky ones before (i.e., teachers), but this request did make us laugh," said Sharon Slapper, head of Information Governance at the British Council in London. Ms Slapper said she was unaware of any specific reference to Tefl zombies in the BC’s current recruitment plan, but some elements of it could be applied if the situation arose.

“BC used to insist on teachers with a Diploma at least” she continued “but nowadays we’ll take anybody with a Mickey Mouse Tefl certificate, as long as they’re prepared to work for ‘local salaries’ – peanuts, in other words”. However, she expressed the opinion that the organisation would draw the line at zombies and Crystal Palace fans.

However, Ed Thurlow, who runs zombie website Terror4Fun, said he felt a Tefler zombie invasion of the British Council was highly likely. "I’ve seen some of these types hanging around language schools in Oxford during Summer, and they really scare me. I reckon that this ‘Concerned Tefler’ has got something here” he stated, before disappearing behind a well-known chain school pursued by garishly-painted teenagers clutching newly-acquired Tefl certificates.

Shock Horror - Teflers are NERDS!!

My latest posting contains a brief report from Agent M, a well-concealed 'deep-throat' operative who is exceedingly well-placed to reveal to unsuspecting Tefl brethren the even seamier side of this appalling business. Or something like that. [Unfortunately the conference image that WAS alongside has had to be removed due to legal threats]

I went to the IATEFL bash at Brighton last month and frankly I ended up lying on the beach alone during some sessions, I was so terribly bored. It saddens me to say it, Sandy, but EFL teachers are officially NO FUN ANYMORE. And that is a change worth reporting, I must say.

I mean, what did these comrades-in-arms of mine end up doing in the breaks? Smoke a spliff or two on the beach? Try chatting up a few horny foreign students? Nope, they all seemed to revel in ... taking out their laptops and doing some sort of twitchy-twitchy work-related thing, ON THEIR OWN!! What a bunch of fuggin' douche-bags!!

OK, I must admit that a colleague of mine talked me into attending a workshop on twittering in a weekend session, as I thought I might actually learn something useful for once. No such luck, though – I was faced by an audience of apparent computer nerds who were twittering throughout. I soon found myself longing for the return of a workforce of drunk, skirt-chasing degenerates who turn up for work sozzled and get into fights. Paradise lost?

I reckon the cause for this outbreak of acute nerdiness could be something like this: as a result of the private sector being too mean to send their staff, all the attendees were goody-goody state school English teachers with no lives. In other words, the die-hard piss-it-all-up-the-wall Teflers from the crappy UK Tefltrade schools had to stay at home.

So, is Agent M right in his hypothesis? Did you go to IATEFL last month? Do you have anything, erm, interesting to report? Did you bump into these three dumpy old slappers alongside there [original picture removed due to threats of legal action from a rich publishing house]? And did you shag any of them, or did you prefer to play with yer fuggin’ Blackberry?

Shame on you all...!!!


And finally, as all of my pictures have fallen foul of the International Copyright Police, I'll just have to leave you with a rare and copyright-free glimpse of Yours Truly instead, attempting to remove them from my computer. The images, I mean, not the copyright cops.

Yeh, that really IS me!!

Teacher Censured by General Tefl Council

It gives me mixed feelings to report this unfortunate story concerning a fellow Tefler, one who faces losing his job after being found guilty of ‘professional misconduct’ - repeatedly breaking wind in class and in the staffroom, and thus apparently offending his students and colleagues. Would you credit it!

In my opinion the poor bugger, referred to hereafter as Comrade Perdomai, should be congratulated for making the most apposite of statements regarding his chosen ‘career’. However, the UK’s General TEFL Council takes an apparently dim view of his anal antics, and is soon expected to pass its own wind in the form of announcing his punishment, in the wake of a disciplinary ruling last week.

According to Comrade P’s colleagues and students at the Kosy Kebab School of English in Dalston Junction, the 'rude' and 'inappropriate' Tefler enjoyed breaking wind in front of them as they ate their lunch and carried out grammar tasks. In his defence, Perdomai reportedly claimed he had 'inadvertent' outbreaks of flatulence, especially when preparing classes from Headache Elementary and marking students’ terrible homework.

“I find that whenever I pick up a copy of Headache I end up farting – accidentally, of course” stated the offending Tefler. “It is, after all, a totally natural body function, and it’s absolutely fine to let one rip in the privacy of your own home. It’s only when I started dropping bombs at work that it became a problem” he pleaded.

At a previous hearing in Spring, a fellow Tefler told the panel how she frequently complained to Comrade P about his noxious habit. She said: "I just asked him to put a cork in it. It was getting so annoying. I didn't like the smell around the staff-room and classrooms, and it made us all feel sick – especially when we had large hangovers on Monday mornings." The tribunal also found him guilty of other charges, including his lack of respect for his students, cracking crude jokes about the disabled and ethnic minorities, and regularly swearing in front of students and staff during class time.

Perdomai was also found guilty of asking students to lend him money, especially for his ‘weekend medicine’, and of even looking in their purse or wallet if he didn't believe them when they said they had no cash on them. Committee chairman Maureen O’Flagherty said: "The committee has accepted that you made these financial petitions in such a way that considerable offence was generated. The committee has noted the evidence that if a student did not show any willingness to loan you a little ‘pocket money’, you would abuse them roundly and tell them to nip out to the cash machine immediately."

On some occasions, it was alleged, the foul-mouthed Tefler made rude gestures, such as sticking two fingers up behind the backs of students he didn't like, and referring to unpopular colleagues as ‘wankers’ and ‘douchebags’. In mitigation, Comrade P apologised before the panel members and admitted that his behaviour was juvenile, saying that he had started to feel frustrated at work.

“Teaching the present simple tense day in, day out, for the past six months, had led me to seek subversive pleasures that expressed my personal dissatisfaction with life” Comrade Perdomai explained. “It used to give me a subtle thrill to notice that my silent but deadly classroom deliveries had a lot more kick than usual, so then I began planting them, loitering around the empty staff-room for a few minutes to let the gas flood out, but always leaving the scene of the crime before someone walked in.”

“Then I started getting cocky and I’d just grunt as loudly as possible everywhere. That’s progress, I suppose.”

The General TEFL Council is currently considering an appropriate punishment, which could be as harsh as a month of enforced teaching at EF.

Have you ever farted in the classroom? Have you ever been in the staff-room and caught a whiff of someone’s silent but deadly delivery? Please leave your enlightening comments below…

General Gaddafi - My very small part in his downfall

Actually, the half-shaven Libyan loon has a lot to answer for, in Tefl terms. You see, he alone is the man responsible for Sandy's return to the blogosphere. Were it not for 'Go-Go' Gaddafi's ill-fated act of careless judgement in machine-gunning a few entirely innocent Libyans a couple of weeks back, Sandy McManus would still be shuffling around an oil-field in one of Tefl's least glamorous locations.

Anyway, I am, however, extremely happy to pass on the wonderful news that I somehow did manage to extricate myself from that grim and grimy oilfield in the south-east of Libya, a veritable 'detention centre' that I unwillingly referred to as 'home' for more than three months. Quite how I managed the awesome feat of escapology I refuse to divulge, but Fitzroy MacLean would have been mightily proud of me, I'm sure.

Fact is, the situation there was REALLY grim - I was in real danger of dying of complete boredom. No internet, no booze, and only the muffled gruntings of cute Libyans being 'friendly' with the foreigners to remind me of how coarse the simple act of copulation could be. It would be putting it very mildly to say that I felt left out - alienated, more like it.

And when I get home, I see the Daily Mail shrieking 'MY NIGHT OF HELL!' - too right, mate! In fact, the biggest real news there was that we had an intermittent supply of eggs for a few days. Yes, no eggs. Oh, and a complete lack of drug-crazed black-african desperadoes in hard-hats intent on loot/murder/rape etc., skanking their way through the compound a-robbin-an-a-shootin. I tell you, man - it was TOUGH!

Okay, some dodgy stuff actually did happen - there were a few alarms and even the odd snippet of gunfire, in the distance - but that was days ago, and the end result was ... nothing of any significance at all. In fact, all this crap about a bunch of Ross Kemp types swinging in through windows and kicking open doors is totally bewildering, like sending in the SAS to unblock your drains.

So, the only thing that HM Government really needs to do is hang on for another week or so, and then all the expats could probably get a very good introductory deal with the first Easyjet flight to leave the new independent Libya. However, I suppose the prospect of a trip on one of the Royal Navy's last surviving ships will prove irresistible to many Brits.

So I'm back. Hello, hello.

Suspension of Service

Yes, I'm afraid to have to inform you that Sandy McManus has applied for leave to take early Winter hibernation, and shall be doing so with immediate effect. Fact is, there's far too many things going on in my life these days, and the mere thought of blogging obliges me to groan internally.

So I'll be lying very low, although I'll still be keeping an eye on things - just not allowing myself to pass the expected SM comment on the wild proceedings of one of the country's top industries, the Tefl Trade.

And don't forget to send in for my amusement those pearls of wisdom that pass for management in the UK Tefl scene. I'm going to need a fair bit of cheering up over the coming months!

Hast pronto, comrades!

PS: BTW, I've switched on the moderation facility for the comments. Got to keep that Windsor loony at bay!

Great TEFL Inventions

Sandy McManus is extremely proud to introduce a novel departure on The Tefl Tradesman - a critical look at new developments in the field of pedagogical hardware and technology. To those of my critics (apparently there are some) who feel I am an educational luddite, wholly unqualified to pass comment on any classroom contraption beyond a stick of chalk and the ever-present cat-o-nine-tails, I proudly say 'bollocks!'.

No. 1. The Communicative Chair
This comfortable item of classroom furniture has been designed exclusively with the communicative classroom in mind. Those rubber spikes bend and fold when the occupant first sits down, whilst inside them, the carefully concealed steel pins gradually release themselves on a timer mechanism. After ten short minutes, the occupant is forced to get up and do some pointless mingling activity, ask a spectacularly dumb information-gap type of question, or ask their class colleagues how many times they watch TV, eat ice-cream, and fall over drunk.

These essential items can also be used in the staffroom, to stop teachers from falling asleep, and as a means of preventing the homeless ones from adopting the teachers' room as their downtown residence. These seats are indeed extremely versatile, and no serious language school should be without one - or a couple of dozen.

No. 2. The Tefl Taser
This recent addition to the tools employed by the forces of law and order has now been adapted for use in the classroom, and is gradually replacing the electric cattle prod as a means of ensuring total classroom compliance. When students appear reluctant to participate in the teacher's favourite senseless activities and pointless games, a quick high-voltage blast from the Tefl Taser restores the party atmosphere and keeps them in the mood for more mingling! This most versatile of educational tools can also be used, when turned up to maximum, to incinerate students who cheat in tests or do anything that annoys the teacher. The DOS can also think of other interesting ways of using them too, no doubt!

These two modern tools of classroom management can, when used in tandem, provide the students with a rich learning environment. Can your school seriously do without them?

13 ways to impress your students

I've been very glad to see that there are certain teachers on the TES forums who possess the same caring-sharing attitudes towards their students that I do. The brief excerpt below, containing suitable teacherly responses to the usual student complaint that “This is boring… !!” has been ever so slightly adapted to fit the EFL context. But the sentiments are as true as they have ever been.

"This is boring!!"

1. “Yeah, but not as boring as detention…”
2. “Bored are you? Let me check my ‘bovvered drawer’ (search in drawer) ‘nope, that’s empty” 3. “Good!”
4. “Maybe it is, but it needs to be finished by the end of the lesson so that you can go out to break.”
5. “Then make sure you learn it thoroughly… it’ll be even more boring if you have to revise it for a resit”!
6. “I didn’t realise you like me so much. Four lessons a week isn’t enough for you but hey, if you want to make it five during your lunch break, then I guess there’s not a lot I can do about it, except be flattered”
7. “Nope…..YOU are bored. There’s a difference.”
8. “What is that hideous noise? … Oh, it’s you.”
9. “I’m sure you’re trying to tell me something, but I’m not sure what.”
10. “What has two thumbs and doesn’t give a crap? (gestures at self with both thumbs and smiles!)
11. "... so is listening to you whine, but you're making me do that."
12. "... not as boring as the job you'll end up with if you don't pass."
13. "Get out of my sight you ignorant little pustule. You have the fascination of the texture of a genital wart yourself, so how dare you suggest that my pronouncements on the glorious English language are not engaging and delivered out of a genuine desire to advance the well of human understanding in the community of global communication!?"

"Yes, The Truth is an Odd Number, and Death is a Full Stop."

Indeed, I'm extremely sad to have to reveal that last Friday, the 13th of August (typical!), my life-time comrade-in-classroom capers, Dave the dodgy DOS, passed away, his drink-sodden spirit squelching its way heavenward in the late hours of the evening. Those cryptically wise words above were the sole substance of his final utterance, made as he gently lifted the last bottle of Fernet Branca to his quivering lips, before setting out on his pre-booked journey along Jacob's ladder (eh?!).

Actually it was MY bottle of FB he emptied, but let's not be too particular when discussing a man's departure from these mortal lands, eh? And as for the meaning of his ultimate pronouncement - I haven't a fuggin' clue!!

An Early Summer Bath

Shouldn't that be "Early Summer Break"? Well, maybe so, but I've been saving on water these past few years by only taking a bath once in every season. Apparently it's really good for the skin, and the smell doesn't get any worse after the first three or four weeks. You think I'm joking?!

Anyway, fact is that this blog will be dormant for the next couple of months - perhaps even until August - as Sandy departs for colder climes. It all depends how things go at my forthcoming resting place, pictured above. Y'see, my mate bought that pub, complete with stock, and swiftly boarded the place up, so's he could drink himself to death.

Only, the problem is, it's too much for him to drink alone, so he's invited me to stay with him until the booze obligingly shrinks and shrivels his liver and kindly dispatches him skyward. And I think he's also a bit worried about waking up dead one morning and having nobody around to get him buried. Poor fucker!

So, I've been volunteered into being the guy's guardian angel and getting him a proper Christian send-off. Otherwise, if the neighbours are the first to catch the sharp aroma of his lifeless pickled flesh, they'll send in the Social Services loonies - and they'll all drink what's left of his booze, the bastards!

No chances of that, mate - I'll be taking that!

April 13 - 'Kiss an Israeli' Day!

That's right! Sandy McManus goes all agitprop and token political gestures with an anti-Israeli rant.

Actually, I don't need to rant. Just look at the facts, especially concerning the horrors of everyday life in occupied Palestine, from these extremely enlightening websites...

http://palestinenotes.blogspot.com/

http://notesfrompalestine.blogspot.com/

http://www.freedomfiles.org/archives/flagburn.htm

If you're still not motivated to rush out and shag a Zionist imperialist with a long beard and a funny hat, just bear in mind the following comparisons...

• Israel and South Africa (apartheid regimes)
• Israel and Nazi Germany ('lebensraum' - West Bank - to the East for the 'Master Race')
• Israel and America (colonialism that eradicates native cultures and people)

Yes, spare a thought for the dispossessed Palestinians, who are losing their land on a daily basis and being treated like third class citizens in their own country. Well done to Israel and their government of colonising religious fascists!

And give some thought to the good old US of A, those champions of democracy who prop up an occupying military power (the second largest army in the world!) and its apartheid regime to the tune of tens of billions of dollars per year in aid and preferential trade agreements. Without them, Israel would be ... well, just a small country led by a regime of ethnic-cleansing bigots and murderers.

You can read all about it here: http://www.lrb.co.uk/v28/n06/john-mearsheimer/the-israel-lobby

Or you just might prefer not to think about it.

Sandy's Alternative Guide to EFL Conference Protocol

Go on - admit it. You went, didn't you. And it was twice as dreadful as they told you it would be - wasn't it! Well, you've only got yourself to blame, intcha, eh? Next time, pay attention to Sandy, right...?

So what in Judge Dread's name am I waffling about this time? Well, that Tefl conference that took place recently in Harrogate - yes, fuggin' Harrogate, of all places! I mean, if I could think of a place that conjures up visions of premature death through chronic boredom, it just has to be Harrogate. I bet even the old biddies snort crack up there, the place is so dull.

Anyway, just so that you don't get caught out again next year, here's Sandy's Alternative Guide to Tefl Conferences. Even if you do get the short straw next time, following this advice will entail your being remembered as a true Tefl hero and odd-ball for a good while - or at least until the next conference, anyway. More importantly, I can guarantee that you'll NEVER be sent to attend an EFL conference again, unless your employer wants his humble language school to suffer the same sort of very public shaming and professional humiliation twice.

First and foremost is the dress code. Never EVER attend in a suit or even dressed in smart-casual mode, as this will announce to all the Tefl world that you are but another saddo who couldn't get a job in management at Tesco's and chose the tacky Tefl path instead. And anoraks don't really belong to the 21st century, do they, so that option's out too. Fancy dress, as in the piccy above, could be an option, but you might be thought of as a mere eccentric, rather then the weirdo that you truly are.

No, you need to think 'MAXIMUM IMPACT', which typically involves having large amounts of nose-rings on show, cheesy henna tattooes on your arms, and plenty of spotty flesh on display. Nipple piercings are an option, but best left for the post conference bash at the pub, when you do your Lisa Minelli impressions on the pool table. Of course, the sort of attire that accompanies these shenanigans is the loose-fitting beach variety, so stock up on flip-flops and speedo shorts, with one of those luminous singlets with the number 69 on it in broad type. There, you look like a true Tefl conference hero now!

But clothes alone do not the Tefler make, so it's important to adopt the required behavioural patterns of the determined conference clone - right?! I mean, you want to be absolutely sure of making the desired impression, so make sure that you always sit right at the very front of every session that you attend. Smile inanely like some old duffer on medication, wink knowingly at the presenter, just to make her/him feel extra nervous, and scratch your nether regions frequently.

Then, in order to cause maximum discomfort and annoyance to each speaker, laugh at the wrong moments, especially the most inappropriate ones. If you feel your attention slipping, start playing with the ring-tones on your phone, at full volume of course, and then stand up and apologise profusely and loudly to everybody present. Sit down with a loud fart, and then stand up and apologise again. Then sit down again slowly and start fishing in your bag for a sandwich or a sausage roll - which you naturally offer to your neighbour first. Pick out your toe-jam with a tooth-pick, and flick the stick at the presenter, just to show your appreciation.

Interrupting and asking stupid questions will make it very clear that you haven't understood a single word of the presenter's codswallop, and will annoy your fellow Teflers immensely. Feel the ripples of discomfort pulsate with agonising predictability as you butt in with "But didn't Krashen write Headway?" or "Yeah, that Vygotsky guy - didn't he give a presentation here last year?".

Another important thing to bear in mind is that food is often supplied free at some stage of the conference, so make sure you bring enough doggy-bags with you. Even if the grub is not free of charge, just lurch up to unsuspecting diners and shout "Are you gonna eat that last little sausage?" while waving your grubby little doggy bag at them. You'll be surprised at the responses you get, I can assure you.

When you get back to your school and go through the tiresome rigmarole of a 'cascade session' with your colleagues - the lucky ones who didn't get forced to go - create a presentation to remember. Show them your colourful and carefully correlated pie-charts full of simplified regression analysis relating to the number of 'erm' and 'um' utterances you heard. They'll be truly impressed - especially your boss.

I kid you not - you'll NEVER get asked (or told) to attend another Tefl conference in your life. And that just HAS to be good news, eh!?

The Rods of Destiny

Look, I know I've been keeping very quiet about this for several years now, but I feel the time is ripe for an outing - and I don't mean a day-trip to Margate. You see, it happened quite by chance, after I dropped a few of them on the floor when I was working at the London School of English many years back, and since then I've been hooked on it. I mean, I made a prediction at the time, and it came true!

So what am I on ... about? Why, the rods, of course, the rods! I've been predicting the future with the aid of my trusty cuisenaire rods for a good ten years now, and I have to 'fess up that I'm a convinced (but perhaps not convincing) Cuisenairomancer. And that's nothing to do with shagging in the kitchen, by the way.

In fact, although the noble art of Cuisenairomancy is not recognised by the NHS (or anybody else), I firmly believe that every teacher who has a few of these magic rods in his/her box of tricks possesses the ability to divine the future. Let me give you an example or two, and see if you're with me or not, eh?

Firstly, it's important to use just seven long rods, and take them out of the bag one by one, as you softly intone a Nepalese mantra. The pale colours should emerge first - yellow, light green - leading up to the darker ones, such as dark red, blue, and black. Place them gently and randomly on the desk in front of you, then stand up and turn round twice.

Are all the rods in the same place? They should be! Have you fallen over? If so, you're probably pissed or still hung over, and the whole exercise will be futile. Go back to bed and try again tomorrow.

Now, take all of the rods in your left hand and throw them gently into the air. Remember to stop singing the mantra and keep your mouth closed as you do this, otherwise the consequences could be fatal. As the rods lie resting on the floor, recite the names of Liverpool's greatest goalscorers. Close your eyes and inhale deeply for one minute exactly.

Now, the position the rods have assumed upon landing on the floor is the most important thing in the art of Cuisenairomancy, so pay careful attention to the following details. Get this wrong and you might be assigning yourself a place in hell, or end up committing yourself to a British Council contract in North Korea for two years.

Closely study the patterns that the rods have made on the floor. Two dark rods pointing away from you mean that you will have to work hard for anything useful in your life - but as an EFL teacher you probably know that already. If you can decipher the shape of the number four made by any of the rods, that means trouble at the workplace - so you might want to go and pick a fight with the DoS, just to gain the advantage of surprise.

However, the most important sign is an unbroken circle or square (OK, perhaps even a triangle). If the rods make such a shape or pattern on the floor, you can make a prediction - which will definitely come true! This is what happened to me that fateful day at the LSE back in 1999, and I correctly predicted that I would get the sack by the end of the week. Amazing!

To date I have also predicted England beating Germany 5-1 away, the winners of the past three Grand Nationals, and Alex Case getting married. Of course, there have been a few 'near-misses', too, notably my prediction that I would be chosen to represent the Science Fiction Loony Party in the last UK elections. Unfortunately, I was arrested for thieving a couple of Robert Rankin books instead, and was doing a small spot of porridge at the time the rest of the nation were choosing their political masters. But the odd bum prediction should be seen as casting no shadow over the entire science of Cuisenairomancy, I believe.

Of course, it takes a good while to understand every secret message behind the manifold permutations of the seven magic rods, but have no fear; my book "Cuisenairomancy for Teflers" will be appearing soon, and the discerning EFL teacher can add these rare and exotic skills to his/her ever-expanding range of off-the-wall teaching techniques and quirky classroom tricks.

As for my forthcoming predictions, let me see ... Yes, Scott Thornbury will marry Pete Sharma, and Brighton and Hove Albion will avoid relegation. There will also be a severe earthquake in Harrogate during next month's IATEFL conference, and every Tefl guru you can name will be swept out to sea in the ensuing tsunami.

Don't believe me? Just come back here in a year's time, and we'll see who's got it right or not, mate!

PS: If you don't have any rods at hand, frozen chipolatas might just do the trick instead.

A Century and NOT OUT!

So, here I am with my 100th blog posting on The TEFL Tradesman, and it's bloody late! What's more, it's almost empty, too, as I've been extremely busy these past few days, preparing for my upcoming conference presentation at "IATEFL 2010 - the Harrogate Experience".

My presentation title - "Why is the UK TEFL Scene a Pile of Wank? Six Things You Didn't Want to Hear" - has attracted a good deal of early interest already, and I'm looking forward to defending my position with an ever-increasing armoury of carefully-selected items of personal abuse and threats of professional embarassment. Perhaps even a kick in the bollocks.

I might even take my brother's Rottweiler along, just in case things get a little too heated. After all, I have managed to insult a large number of apparently highly esteemed Tefl twerps over the years, and they might well seize the chance to exact a little revenge on the turd-baiting Tefl Tradesman.

But what do I care? A craven attitude has never been one of the underlying features of this blog, has it? So, I'll happily leave you with a fellow traveller - a fellow TEFL Tradesperson, in fact - who has managed to write a juicily forthright and critical piece entitled Tefl Slapheads. The characterisation of one 'Methodology Maggie' is quite sharp and accurate, I feel - almost as good as a back-handed complement from Sandy McAnus!

The Tefl Interview - a Supplicant Writes...

Well, they do say it's grim down south - trying to get a job in EFL, that is. Despite the fact that probably half of the country's EFL schools are in London, finding a decent teaching job there is like hoping to find a gold wedding ring in your mother's stool.

Agent D, hereafter known as TTS - for Tired Tefl Sucker - relates a recent attempt to find gainful employment at one of London's best-known and highly-respected private EFL outfits. Out of deference to Agent D, I won't be giving the school's name - probably the first time I've held back from nominating a wanky EFL school ever!

*******

Friday 6th February.

The mobile rings as I enter Starbucks to get out of the rain.

It’s Richard Stanley-Waite from the Leather Imperial School of English in London. He’s course-director at LISE, on of Britain’s most venerated EFL schools.

‘Would you have a few Moments?’ he asks.

TTS ‘Of course let me just sit down…. OK, fire away’

RSW: ‘Thanks for sending in your CV. So you’ve been teaching for a number of years?

Ah, this is the place which writes on their website that the majority of their teachers have 25 years of teaching experience….

‘Well I, um, should point out that I have had a total of around three years teaching experience, although much of this was obtained prior to my certificate, which I did at the beginning of last year. I’ve since taught at Dove UK, teaching a mixture of ESOL and TEFL, Santoor University ELT department – that was a pre -sessional, and I also did a summer school for Yardley International’

RSW: ‘Hmmm… and why did it take you so long to get your certificate?:

I mention something about money and other commitments making it difficult in the past, neglecting to mention any other career pursuits and how I should have done it fifteen years ago, at the same time thinking 'if I had then, Jesus, I’d really know all this grammar shit inside out by now, and might even have made my way up to become a ... Senior Teacher!'

There are a few questions more before RSW winds up by saying:

‘Well, it Miiighhht be worth you dropping by for a Chaaaattt. Are you free next week….?’

Arrangements are made. There will be a short ‘language task’. ‘Will that include phonology’ asks this Tefl footsoldier?

- No, No, No it’s a LANGUAGE task. I take it that phonology is not your strong point…

- I was just erm asking, as I’m looking to brush up on my IPA table. I think phonology is a very important part of…... ‘

- Hah…Ok…. Look forward to seeing you next Wednesday….

Wednesday

Sitting in the café, inside the very plush Leather Imperial School, in leafy West London, I’m handed a series of sentences, which all include the word ‘have’. ‘Notice the words arrrrround the verb, says’ Richard Stanley Waite.

This place really contrasts with some of the other places I’ve visited in the last two weeks are. Going from the Pears School in Piccadilly to this place is like upgrading to a Bang & Olufsen audio system after using a 1985 Tandy combo, that is if both these were accredited by the British Council and all their engineers were paid less than their office juniors.

The more I peer at the ‘have’ sentences, the less like English they look. In the interview room, Richard Stanley Waite and his poker faced assistant grill me.

- Well the first one, ‘she has a new bar of Camay’, that’s the use of “have” to show possession in a simple present tense structure.

- …and how else could you say it?

- erm, ‘she’s got a new bar of Camay’

-And what’s that?

What does he mean, 'what’s that?' It’s another way of saying the same thing.

- What Strucccctttturrre is it ?

- Um, Present perfect

- Is it?

- Well it could be. ‘Got’ could be a past participle rather than an irregular past form.

- What would you say if a student demanded to know what structure it was?

- I’d say, ‘he’s got to get a new life’….. I’d consult Swan.

- What if Swan was missing from the teacher’s room?

- Erm, I’ll go for present simple.

- You don’t sound too sure. How about the next…. Item?

- ‘She’s had her back scrubbed’… well it seems to me this is um, a passive of sorts… she arranged for someone to scrub her back, she didn’t scrub her back herself…

- Now you say this is a passive. But what normally happens with a passive?

- The object becomes the main feature of the clause.

- But that’s not happening here is it?

- No, erm,……………….

Twenty long minutes later

They ask me whether I found teaching IELTS interesting. I say that I did. The assistant wants to know WHAT was interesting about it.

My mind goes utterly blank, seconds last for minutes, the more I try to think the less I can. What was interesting about teaching IELTS? What was interesting about teaching IELTS? Graphs ... dry language ... formulaic use of language for essay writing ... the annual quota of glycerine produced by countries – a predictive and intensive reading task ... Shit, I don’t know; what IS interesting about teaching IELTS……….?

Thursday

I find a message from RSW on the mobile. ‘Could you give us a ring, to… catttccch up?’

Having just been for a wisdom tooth extraction, I don’t feel like talking too much, but I give him a call.

‘So how did YOU feel the interview went?’ he asks. I’m searching for the right dishonest word rather that doesn’t sound too much like Kevin Costner in ‘In Bed with Madonna. After the preamble he cuts to the chase:

- to be frank we felt your grasp of some of the language in the task to be, well ... shaky to say the least.

- OK

- We won’t be able to offer you anything

- OK

- Sorry to disappoint you

- That’s OK.

The post surgery dental pain overrides. His words are having no effect whatsoever.

Crispy Rizlas

Things have been getting rather busy for me on the professional scene, what with my forthcoming viva for my Doctorate in Education, and several conference presentations looming ever closer on the horizon, so I've not been able to devote as much time as I would like to this blog over the past week or so.

As a result I'll have to palm you off with an offering from several years back, which came to me by way of a friend of a friend of a ... well, get the picture? It concerns a newbie's 'induction' to a certain EFL school in Brighton, that ever-so sophisticated alternative hub of the UK Tefl Trade scene - otherwise known as Skidrow on Sea, of course. As you know, I've always been keen on laughing at students' mistakes, and the fertile field of piss-poor pronunciation has given me more laughs than I could ever remember.

*******

I had only been given the briefest of introductions to the students' cafeteria, where we were apparently entitled to half-price grub, if we could stomach it, so when I got the chance to have a good nose round the place, I took it. Obviously designed and decorated in the early 1970s, and not touched since, it gave off the dispiriting air of an old British Rail station restaurant (pre-privatisation, of course). The colour scheme was a daring cocktail of tangerine and coffee (today’s special, dear?), and the tables were mostly enormous oval-shaped lumps of heavy wood, surrounded by fixed and uncomfortable padded benches.

And here I sat, after a heavy morning’s classes at some time in my first week, happily shoveling down an amazingly appetizing dish of undercooked cut-price chips, heavily anaesthetised with brown sauce, and sloppy tea. I noticed the presence of one of my students, a sporty Korean guy of mature years and an accent to spike worms with, with a few of his younger pals from Seoul, on the seats behind me. They appeared to be discussing musical matters, as from time to time I would hear a carefully created dissonance of some far-off top ten tune, followed by either grunts of recognition or syllables of baffled ignorance.

Then came a tap on the shoulder. “Mister Sandy” my little Korean clubber intoned, with a slight tinge of triumph in his voice, “my friends don’t know Crispy Rizlas!”. My look of extreme puzzlement was enough to oblige him to expand on his statement. “Great music – Crispy Rizlas!”. Just about here my brain began a panicky perusal of its musical memory box. Was it some American cult band of the late 60s, sharing the honours with Jefferson Airplane? Or an obscure but legendary English outfit of the early 70s, stagemates to Soft Machine, or Kevin Ayers?

“You don’t know famous song ‘Rung Once’?” he asked, shaking his little head incredulously. I began to sense I was on to a loser here, and decided to slurp up my tea and make up some feeble excuse, like needing to use the toilet urgently.

Perhaps reading my thoughts, he chose an exemplary path to enlightenment – he burst into song. I clocked the tune immediately – ‘The Young Ones’! Crispy Rizlas - Cliff Richards!! That musical and cultural icon of a most peculiar British type had crossed immense geographical and cultural barriers – to become a crispy rizla!

Sort of seemed about right, I reckoned.

PS: For the teacherly fools amongst you, don’t worry; I did make an immediate mental note to do some focused pronunciation work with the guy the following week.

'A visitor' left this comment on 28 Feb 05
Ha ha - very funny! But it's also quite embarrassing when that happens, isn't it? You don't want to destroy their confidence by not understanding, but if you can't understand them, there isn't anything you can do about it there and then, especially with other people around, other than smile and nod - hoping that by nodding you're not actually committing yourself to anything untoward - and then jump into 'escape' mode.

It's Official - Jews ARE Descended from Pigs!

Well, according to the King Fahad Academy they are. And this ain't the King Fahad Academy in Riyadh I'm talking about - it's the one in Acton, London!

Yes, another of my UK agents (this time Agent A) has alerted me to this genteel educational establishment, a true repository of liberal values and tolerance for all humankind. OK, I know it's bugger all to do with EFL, but it is SUCH a good story, innit, and puts many crazy Tefl tales well in the shade!

According to their own website, the King Fahd Academy in Acton is a 'World School', meaning that it is an educational institute offering the curriculum of the International Baccalaureate Organisation. Now, one of the 'misson statements' of the IBO is the rather grand and noble objective of fostering world peace, no less. For example, it claims to "promote intercultural understanding and respect ... as an essential part of life in the 21st century", and believes their broad(-minded) curriculum can "develop inquiring, knowledgeable and caring young people who help to create a better and more peaceful world through intercultural understanding and respect."

Quite how they achieve this at the King Fahad Aademy, which is famous for telling its students that Jews descend from pigs, is unclear. Even more opaque is the way in which they manage to create 'inquiring young people' when they treat girls as inferior. The school has, however, been happy to admit that nowadays it prefers to follow Saudi education policy, which states that a girl's education should "enable her to be a successful housewife, an exemplary wife and a good mother" or prepare her for work which is "suitable to her disposition as a woman".

Strange, that is ... I mean, I've never heard of one's gender being referred to as a 'disposition' before, but I guess they see things a lot differently in the Magic Kingdom of Saudi Arabia - also known as 'the largest open prison in the world' by many who have unfortunately entered but managed to escape.

Louise Ellman, MP for Liverpool Riverside and chairman of the Jewish Labour Movement, has accused the school of inciting racial hatred, and hit out at Ofsted inspectors for failing to discover that the textbooks used in the school portray the other "peoples of the book" (Jews and Christians) as 'apes', 'pigs', and 'repugnant', amongst other rather less-than-agreeable terms. Take a look at yourself, King Fahad (resembling a rather corpulent member of the pork-sausage brigade himself alongside), I am tempted to say.

According to Ms Ellman, "This whole situation is unacceptable. It is incitement. It is part of a deliberate Saudi initiative to install Wahabbi extremism among Muslims and in the rest of society. If Ofsted has not drawn attention to this, that is a failing of Ofsted."

Of course, expecting the squib-like Ofsted to take on the might of the Saudi King Fahad and his school in London is probably expecting a little too much, I would add. Let's face it, the Ofsted inspectors are rather supine little buggers at the best of times, only daring to throw their weight around when they know they're on to a winner, so I guess they thought they were being bold just by knocking on the school's doors!

Anyway, there's more on this wonderfully open minded academy here and here.

Sixteen Things Somebody Thought They Knew About Sandy McManus

On the occasion of the first anniversary of the death of this blog - http://sandymcmanus.blogspot.com - I would like to bring all yous Teflers out there a compilation of the irreparably flawed wisdom of one Mr Michael Flynn, the poor soul who wasted the best part of two months of his life last year in trying to discover the true identity of Yours Truly, Sandy McManus.

According to Mr Flynn (no doubt a cunning pseudonym), he managed to unearth the following information about me, all of which was enough to apparently nail me and leave me cowering in a feverish, guilt-induced coma somewhere in a remote corner of the blogosphere.

Or not.

Anyway, take a look at the fine assortment of complete rubbish below, which are all quotes taken directly from his blog, and then read my clarifying comments that follow.

1. John William Campbell does NOT exist.

Very true, but I had you fooled for a while, didn't I! In fact, I sent our Mr Flynn a fake CV, purporting to be from the mysterious bastard behind SM, and he was gullible to enough to believe it was the real thing. Oh dear, Mr Flynn - never heard of 'red herrings' before?

2. We know that you are Northen Irish and that your wife is from Kazakhstan but you are DEFINITELY not William Campbell.

Oh really - not getting much better, are we, matey? Truth is, I've never even been to Ulster, although the second assertion is a bit nearer the mark - my wife does come from a Central Asian country, but it's not Kazakhstan. However, you're clearly right on part three - I'm definitely not William Campbell!

3. He is a footie fan and his favourite club is Derry City FC.

Footy fan, yes, (along with several hundred million other males) but ... Derry City FC?! Good grief - where on Earth did you get that mad idea from, Flynnie boy?! You must have been well pissed when you dreamt that one up...

4. My original profile about Sandy studying at Queen's University Belfast was accurate.

About as accurate as a David Beckham penalty, matey

5. Paul Fletcher and Lisa Harrington of Capital Languages should be able to shed light on the whereabouts of Sandy McManus.

Oh dear, was that another red herring you fell for? Or did you dig up that item of totally useless information yourself? If so, well done - but check here first...

Capital Languages Ltd.
4 Campbell Road
London E17 6RR
Telephone +44 (0)20 8520 5363
Email: info@capitallanguages.co.uk

6. Sandy McManus' blogs have ... been motivated by a desire to put the competitors out of business.

Erm, so I want to be the only EFL blogger on the planet - is that it? Oh, no - now I remember. You thought I was either Paul or Lisa from section 5 above, who had created the ghastly McManus creature to drive all their EFL competitors in the UK out of business. Right, ... well, erm ...

7. The name is probably taken from Sandy (as in desert) and McManus from JP McManus the famous Irish Horse owner. Sandy must enjoy a flutter with Paddy Power (the bookies).

A fine piece of logical posturing, Mr Flynn - but the truth is a lot simpler. However, I won't spoil yer fun and hand over the answer until another attempt has been made. Oh, and I'm not well-known for gambling, by the way. In fact, the last time I was in a betting shop was probably ten years ago (when I won 150 quid, if you're interested!).

8. The latest profile:
* Nationality: Irish Catholic, from Derry
* Age: mid 40s
* Studied at Queen's University Belfast and also took an MA in Applied Linguistics in Edinburgh.
* Has a PGCE in FE.
* Worked as an EFL teacher at a number of schools in England including a summer school on the south coast
* Is married
* His wife is from Kazaksthan
* Has children
* May possibly have a passion for Harley Davidson Motorbikes

What - me, a fuggin' Catholic?! A left-footer?! And a biker to boot?! Well, I did once possess a fine BSA Bantam (see piccy alongside), a cracking example of post-war technology from the cutting edge of the British motorbike industry, but that was a very long time ago.

And what's this about an MA from Edinburgh Uni? Oh, if only!! But yes, I'm married with children, and I have worked on summer schools in the UK - just like many thousands of other Teflers, I reckon. But wait - am I detecting an improvement in Mr Flynn's snooping skills, here?

9. He has a passion for literature and is very well read.

Hey, well done, Mikey - you got something right at last! But, then again, there is a section called 'Sandy's Secret Library' on this blog, so that bit didn't need very advanced detection skills, did it?
10. The vulgar racialist bigot is probably not on public display and is a persona he uses on some of his blogs.

Hey, that's an awful porkie pie to tell - I am a vulgar racist bigot in my private life as well as in public! Shame on you, Sherlock - you're just clutching at straws, intcha!

11. He is capable of rational and articulate argument and his real life persona is probably completely different to his on-line persona.

Haven't we been here before - the second bit, I mean? And as for those words about being rational and articulate - clearly it is an awful slur on my character!

12. He ... is capable of writing articulately and intelligently.

Oh, alright then - I give in. In fact, I'd give you a kiss just for that, you know...

13. The Sandy McManus persona that we know of on-line is probably a fictional character that he has invented.

I think we've stopped off at this station already, too. Can't we move on a bit now?

14. He has libelled with impunity, using many different aliases, many people over the years ...

Now that's much more like it. I could not have put that better myself - top marks, matey!

15. Paul Lowe, if you are reading this you will be happy to hear that I now know Sandy's exact home address in Dubai.

Very good. Except that ... I have never lived in Dubai.

16. I'd love to hear from David Kerr, a.k.a Sandy McManus, an instructor/administrator at Zayed University, UAE.

Now, David Kerr was the first name that this demon detective drew out of the hat, and I definitely ain't him - and vice versa. David, though, does exist, unlike (John) William Campbell and Daniel Regan, plus a few of the other red herrings I threw his way.

*******

OK, that's enough of all that crap. It's no wonder the poor bugger gave up, is it, if that's all he could come up with after a couple of months of hard labour slogging away at the internet?!

Anyway, the only remaining question is - does anybody else have a clue as to my real identity? More to the point, though - what about Michael Flynn's?! Just pop the name of your choice in the comments section below, and I'll let you know if I think you're warm or cold.

Really, I will!

Great TEFLers of our time: the truth piddles out...

Yes, it gives me no small grain of pleasure to reveal to the rest of you Tefl rabble that I was recently given exclusive access to Scotland Yard's files on subversive Teflers. Of course, we all suspected that being a celebrated Tefl guru was merely a flimsy cover for a whole array of despicable and beastly activities, and I'm pleased to say that we were all right. Well, most of us were - and most of the time, anyway.

So, kindly note below the names of the great and good of our industry, who have all been detained at Her Majesty's Displeasure for a wide range of violent, shameful, and alcohol-related crimes, from fraud to fornication. Ah, the pride it gives me, being a member of such a multi-talented gang of geezers!

Of course, in true Tefler spirit, I have disguised this bit of not-so innocent fun as a matching exercise. So, just match the miscreant Tefler with the correct misdemeanour, and plonk your answer in the comments box below. I promise a full crate of Old Speckled Hen to the first downtrodden Tefl Tradesperson to get 100%! ...

Tefler

1. Jeremy Harmer 2. Jennifer Jenkins 3. Mario Rinvolucri
4. Jim Scrivener 5. Scott Thornbury 6. Lindsay Clanfield

Crime

A. During a recent IATEFL conference in Exeter, this solitary Tefler took to the river in a stolen pedalo with a serious cargo of contraband alcohol. He had to be rescued by the coastguards when he was seen to be drifting unconscious into the English Channel, and was later arrested for being drunk in charge of a sea-going vessel.

B. This cad was arrested for drink-driving after being found in a country lane with a female Tefl groupie. When her husband turned up at 3 a.m., the semi-naked Tefler sped off and drove into a lamp-post.

C. This well-endowed Tefler was caught on camera in a nightclub, with his tackle hidden (just about) by the label of a beer-bottle. He was given a firm bollocking by his publishers, and was dismissed from from his advisory position to a certain University. Since that event he has been known affectionately as 'Budweiser'.

D. On the bus back to college after taking her students on an excursion, this particular Tefl loony ordered the bus to stop at a pub owned by the director of her school. When it came to paying, and after several rounds of top-quality 'sauce', she referred the barman to the same director to cover the bill. She was later arrested for 'Intent to Deceive'.

E. Upon being unable to rouse the night porter at 4 a.m. at a certain Spanish hotel where he was staying during an EFL conference, this resourceful Tefler stole a motorbike, rode up the establishment's steps, and careered through the plate glass window of the main door. Not only did he need 30 stitches at hospital, he had chosen the wrong hotel.

F. This sociable Tefler became extremely tired and emotional (i.e. drunk and abusive towards his fellow passengers) on a flight to an EFL conference in Turkey. After attempting to wrestle the last remaining bottle of brandy from a hostess, he had to be beaten back into his seat with a fire-extinguisher, and was thrown off the plane in Greece.

So, there you go. Remember, submit your answers below, and you could be the lucky recipient of that crate of amber nectar!