I’m a teacher & selfish mums ruin my school holidays… they judge me for buying booze & ambush me at airports
FROM close encounters at the gym and airport, to flirty former pupils at the pub, Mel Fallowfield listens to the woes of an off-duty teacher . . .
I’ve been teaching for nearly 20 years and people love to say: “It must be so wonderful having long holidays.”
It’s true, the holidays can be great — but they’re also fraught with worry.
At any given moment, a beady-eyed parent is likely to pounce on you in public.
Most teachers work near where they live, meaning hundreds of children and parents will recognise you when you least want them to.
It’s like being a celebrity but without the perks.
If you’re a parent but think you’re not a problem, remember this — however polite I am to your face, I’m secretly wishing that you would just disappear.
Read on to see which problem parent category you fall into and why it could get you — and your child — seriously marked down by teachers.
THE SUPERMARKET SNOOPER
I DON’T drink much during term — as a secondary school teacher, I don’t want to face a class of rowdy teenagers with a hangover — but come the holidays it’s nice to unwind with a glass of wine.
And there’s nothing like casually browsing supermarket shelves for the latest offers.
That’s until a parent looks in your trolley with judgment in their eyes and asks: “Having a party, are you?”
After this happened to me once too often, I started buying my booze online instead.
I also drive to the out-of-town supermarket to stock up on junk food, ever since a mum caught me and my children walking along the street cramming chips into our mouths and had the cheek to ask my kids if it was all that they were having for dinner.
I was livid.
Another time, I was caught shouting like a fish wife, telling my lot they couldn’t have a takeaway meal again.
It was so embarrassing.
THE AIRPORT ASSAILANT
I WORK in the South West and my nearest airport is Bristol.
So you might wonder why I book my holiday flights from a London airport.
There’s a good reason — the beginning of my holiday was once spoiled after I was ambushed by a school mum.
For me, browsing through duty free marks the start of my holiday — I love it.
But on that occasion, my pleasure was cut short when a mum and her daughters bounded up and started chatting away.
I forgot to ask where they were going, and spent the next two hours worrying they’d be on the same flight.
So, please, do not approach teachers at airports or, worse still, your holiday destination.
There’s a gorgeous beach close to where I live that’s yet to be discovered by tourists.
But sadly, it has been discovered by all the school mums, making it out of bounds for me.
How could my pupils take me seriously if they’d seen me in my bikini?
It’s happened once and won’t happen again.
THE GYM BUNNY MUMMY
DURING term, my fitness drive goes into neutral.
Teaching is exhausting, so I have neither the time nor energy for regular exercise.
But while I’m slaving in the classroom, the mums, having offloaded their little darlings on to me, have plenty of time to work out.
By the time the holidays arrive, I’m not exactly at peak fitness.
So when I do hit the gym, I end up red-faced, sweaty and flustered.
The last thing I want to see is one of a pupil’s mum glowing with health on a neighbouring treadmill.
It’s mortifying — and even worse when they invite me for a coffee afterwards.
I’ve barely the energy to lift the cup, let alone field questions about how little Johnny is in class.
THE GOSSIP GATHERER
SOME parents are forever on the hunt for school gossip and will try to squeeze it out of you.
I’ll never forget going for a GP appointment and a mother sitting next to me and pumping me for information.
All I wanted to do was focus on what I was about to say to the doctor, but all she wanted was to hear about the deputy head’s divorce drama.
Unfortunately, I was trapped, a sitting duck, so I just had to wait patiently, praying for my name to be called.
THE PUSHY PARENT
A PUSHY mum will always push — wherever you are. I remember one coming up to me in a shop and asking if I thought we were getting through the syllabus quickly enough.
Ross from Friends came to mind — all I wanted to say was, “We are on a break”.
Instead, I was polite — in part because she’d given me the best end-of-year gift, a posh Jo Malone scented candle.
Another situation for teachers is when a parent comes up to you and you can’t remember their child’s name.
They take it terribly personally.
Emails are another form of intrusion.
Some parents think nothing of emailing about school work outside of term time, which instantly snaps me out of holiday mode and puts me in a bad mood.
THE PARTY CRASHER
WHEN you live and work locally, you’ll likely bump into your pupils’ parents at a party or in the pub.
I always pray they’ll do the thoughtful thing and give me a wide berth, but they rarely do.
One mum was everywhere — to the point where, in paranoid moments, I thought she might be stalking me.
She was even in the same restaurant when I celebrated my birthday with mates — and of course, she couldn’t help coming over to say hello, could she?
But the worst time was when she witnessed my team come last in a local pub quiz — I knew she was thinking I was far too stupid to teach her daughter.
I found myself babbling about how I never knew the sport and music questions.
THE ROMANCE WRECKER
I’M currently single and will probably remain that way — as I fear dating near where I live.
It was bad enough that a couple of school mums I knew before I started teaching at my current school knew a little too much about my dating history.
Now I only log on to Tinder when in other cities, as I don’t want to be caught out on a date or, heaven forbid, find a school dad on there.
For me, it’s either a long-distance relationship or none.
And it’s not only the parents we worry about — sixth-formers and former pupils cause headaches too.
Once, in a nightclub, an ex-pupil sidled up and tried to chat me up.
I was half-cut but luckily kept my wits about me and left.
It can be difficult, though, as they often get a job in their local pub — which was mine too, until they got work there.