Induction

 

Today, I was inducted into my new job as a teacher in an Isle of Wight secondary school. Or induced. It's a funny word, induction. I was 'induced' to start a job there, and so had to be inducted. My induction started at 8:20am, all too soon after we boarded the midnight ferry from Portsmouth and less than 6 hours after going to bed in our new, Ventnorian house. The nocturnal car journey from the ferry port at Ryde to Ventnor was a bit like a game of Snakes and Ladders, with road closures forcing us to go down snakes before being rerouted up ladders. The recent rain and accompanying landslips had sadly left their mark. The most stressful example of this came at the end, when with 9% battery on our electric car we arrived on the cusp of Ventnor, to be thrown down a large snake. Making our way round to the only road open with 4% battery left was not an experience I'd care to repeat. I've never liked board games!

Moving from the independent sector to the 'state sector' was something I'd been looking forward to for a while, though I'm not sure why; maybe because it chimes with my politics; maybe because I'm an idealist. The economic and educational indicators aren't brilliant on the Island, and I wanted to play a tiny part in inspiring and helping young musicians. One or two people had warned me against it, but at the risk of being seduced by my own propaganda, I like doing the opposite of what is sensible and logical. Life's more fun that way!

The induction day (no forceps were involved) left me reeling in terms of the systems used I'd need to master. Reeling in a good way, though. The technology, platforms, apps and systems were incredibly impressive; it was a different world, and I drove away with more logins than the Head of Cyber Security at Microsoft. They were all designed to make life easier; inevitably they will create more work. Has Technology made us work longer hours? Discuss.

I was given a room to use for the day and various personnel visited me to induct me into their specialist areas: IT, Senco (Learning Support), Health and Safety, and so on and so forth. I felt a bit like an exotic animal in Sandown Zoo, with people coming to gawp at me. You employed HIM! My line manager in the Performing Arts Dept. was very pleased to see me, which worried me. No pressure. 

Initially, I was given a red lanyard to wear; or rather a lanyard with a red strap. At some point in the day, after my DBS certificate was processed, this was replaced with a green strap. So there are different colour straps depending on your status. If you are a serial killer, maybe you have a black strap. With the red lanyard I was not permitted to be on my own, but wearing the green strapped one I could wander around indiscriminately by myself. If I was so minded I could dance down the corridors doing Terry Wogan impressions. With the green lanyard I was a free man! I'm not sure if people with the black serial killer lanyard straps were allowed to be unaccompanied or not; I didn't see anybody wearing one but I'd imagine there'd be some restriction on them. If Jack the Ripper comes to do Speech Day I may find out.

I left with a full notebook and an empty stomach. Addressing the latter, I navigated my way to a KFC drive-through. I can't remember my last visit to a KFC, and was nonplussed when, after I'd asked for their smallest chicken basket, the brown paper bag I was given seemed big enough to hold a family of 14's monthly shopping. Inside were 6 large chicken drumsticks and more fries than you can shake a stick at. 

I'm now looking forward to my KFC menu induction and acquiring lots of new login details from Colonel Sanders.