The new year begins with the usual noise. As an intercontinental missile from the sky suggests a new teacher in one room and awakened by the inventory at all strong. The class enemy in his suspicion has sent this man to us. Our good woman W. replace? Impossible! An addition it should be. The realism of "simulated work processes," increased by 100%, in addition to the warm sour-counter Mutti, we now have an enthusiastic, strong and confident leadership Koch, Managers and trainers in one person to remind us of how it could go in real Gastwirtlichkeiten.
The new teacher is a successful middle-aged man. Deep voice, strong abdominal approach, millimeter cut, plaid shirt, jacket, dry humor. What he teaches, he also lives: healthy diet, prudent action, determination, hard work and perseverance.
Unlike Mrs W. He has the job not complete despair adopted after long unemployment, no, it changes often and like the job, has many connections that could work anywhere and will do it in stock too. As an instructor, lecturer, group leader or top Hansel in a "measure work for enabling and integration, "he was missing in his five-page CV.
But he must get along for now. The job he has somewhat been very different. meaningful mediation and instructions in a clearly structured organization, as on that of . it is the signed contract
The bleak mood of his allocated long-term unemployed and their common belief in their own hopelessness perpetuated in the long Zermürbungsphase during and between various waste of time up to phlegmatic indifference has - this mood tried the instructor for a good hour by bestimmmtes but unnoticed lecture to cover up, but the collective Call for a smoking break, so the only requirement is that here in a labor camp seems to be assertive, ultimately stronger.
And so goes the collective of the futility of a cigarette, the teacher is lonely and deserted.
coasts Shortly thereafter, the group returned unkollektiv. It is less nicotine because more the sense of one's own body motion and the invigorating effect of fresh air that give the participants a short time the illusion of contentment and happiness.
I can not let the matter rest. From my pocket I take a text and begin to read it quietly. The men at the Table asking me to him would be best to read the same for all, finally I've been with my program of songs (including mini-sermon) to the Christmas party recently demonstrated stage presence. Good idea! The unprecedented freshness of oxygen, refined through the smoke and tar is now the equally unprecedented freshness of contemporary German literature follow, improved by discontent and Misantrophie.
I share with the teacher that I would like to read culture as a kind of spontaneous play between a short text for all (no objection). I stand before the blackboard and read out: "Inside, only pot" by Uli Hannemann. In many places will laugh. I read the last sentence, you all "Have fun" and sit quietly back to my place.
may at this point the interested blog readers themselves first read the above text (scroll down to the middle). He shows very well how it can be a mentally endure here in the subpoena. War in the head.
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| cup without pot |
The teacher does not rise more to the word. Is it became clear that the lecturing here, under these circumstances has no meaning and purpose? He suddenly hears the whistle of the little train in his head?
To escape my own thoughts I disappear into the computer room. I am determined to look for jobs to me, any, could not care less. On my resume, I have not even filed a long time. At home, I can not find time for it.
Is this the perfidious purpose of the measure? The simulated gastronomic work processes, the lecturing, the promised but never held mediation talks - all just to cross Staffete thinking, disoriented student drop as I keep the vision of their own downfall in mind? All the participants, they are just useless human material, means to an end? Respect and respect for such a sophisticated strategy, Mrs vd Leyen!
each according to his abilities. Some people are therefore only as illustrative material.
A few hours later I walk into the back room of silence. The teacher is sitting still. Only about half an hour before close of business. I ask in a whisper to my neighbor, whether anything had been lecturing in the last few hours - no. Nothing. The lecturer, who was in the morning full of energy - it also has captured the paralyzing suction. There is simply nothing to do. It counts only one thing: the small, black plastic stick on this disc labeled with twelve figures may yet be your last move in the desired constellation:
quarter past four.
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