no Berlitz, no cryin...

Finally, finally, I have cut the link.

Having bored my friends witless with my ranting over the months, and worn myself out with impotent rage, I promised myself that the next showdown would be the last. So when, last week, a student failed to show up and my use of "no show" time - the creation of a magnificent book stop to keep the mighty Berlitz instructor tomes from slooshing off the bookshelf - earned me yet another telling-off (I had judged this more useful than writing reports for students who finished their course five months ago), that was it; I quit.

For two days I was elated. Then the thoughts that have hitherto immobilised me, about what I will lose, crashed in: the pleasure of being an "expert", well within my comfort zone; the positive feedback loop of knowing that I do the job well and that the students like me; the stimulus of male company (all other aspects of my life exclusively female); the comfy routine, of "going to work"; the fun, despite Berlitz's pariah status in ELT circles, of working within the Berlitz Method... OMG, what have I done...?!

So here, for the record, is a reminder of why I dun the deed..

the offending book stop (10kg of stones from the garden, corporate blue paper - a pucker job; my legacy to the company); the real issue being that some nincompoop in Lyon rules, rather than me, an experienced teacher "on the ground"

airless teaching rooms - often empty, a sign of the times; the Berlitz clock top right pings the 5-minute "breaks" (ha ha, inevitably used for some aspect of admin); intermittently functioning CD players heighten stress - trainer looks a complete plonker
in front of students

a reminder of the cultural issues that have caused me to rub up against management time and time again - take a pill and
everything will be all right 

the Multimedia room where students save the cost of a face à face lesson by buying into embarrassingly dated software, and
Berlitz has no shame in charging good money for an online resource that they don't own, and that can be accessed
on the internet, for free 

the "trainers' room", all 4 square metres of it; space to stand up and eat your lunch in full view of students

door to the toilets; a recent dictate asked us to be vigilant, and observe who was taking a toilet break when, to try to pin down the culprit (the neighbours have been complaining); an example of the infinitely stretchy job description of a trainer

Plus, a key source of ennui, my timetable for the following day - confirmed only at 18h30 the previous evening. A game of roulette, planning things that might need to be changed at the last minute. And Berlitz' unrealistic attitude to kids' lessons - there is no way these can be delivered from the mind-numbing teaching materials without extra prep; most definitely not part of the deal with Berlitz.

Enough said. My last day will be 3 July. Let the good times roll. ..

No Berlitz, no cryin
No Berlitz, no cryin.
Everything's gonna be all right
Everything's gonna be all right.