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Monday Morning, Week 5
After Sunday, you sleep soundly, only woken by your alarm. You’re surprisingly alert and full of vigour for a Monday morning. Heading to school almost feels like a pleasure.
Maybe it’s the pleasure of seeing girls in school uniforms, acknowledging you as they head in the same direction. Everyone, girls on their own, girls with their parents. The looks of most of the girls feels inappropriate. The looks of many of the mothers is the same.
Even the staff room is tainted by the hint of sexuality. The older teachers appear more carefree. The younger teachers all smile as you pass. Assembly flies by, helped by you ignoring what is actually being said, and instead concentrating on the women around you, Abigail to your left, Spencer and Anissa beyond her, the ranks of the girls in front, all dressed up in their uniforms, white blouses, short skirts, long white socks, blazers and ties.
Of course, lessons can always bring a dampener to the day. Mondays always start with the Lower Sixth ‘C’ Stream, enough weeks in now to have grown comfortable with their new school, and to start to explore the boundaries. These girls are viewed the weakest of their year, and it’s starting to show. You keep having to repeat the same instructions, and still they don’t comply, either due to lack of listening, lack of understanding, or just lack of concern. By the end of the term, they’ll probably be as hard to teach as the Upper Sixth ‘C’ Stream. Doesn’t mean you’ll stop trying.
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