Same as always, but…

You enter the classroom once more and are greeted the same way, except the chatter in much louder. Of course, it’s close to lunch hour. They get ever rowdier around this time.

“Good afternoon everyone! Please, settle down," you hear yourself say. God, you’re so tried you’re almost working on auto-pilot. You feel lightheaded, but try not to let it show. “Today we’ll start working with an extract from a very famous novel, The Great Gatsby. I want you to read it, analyze it and answer the questions on the back of the page.” You say, calling attention to the worksheets on your hand.

You walk around the classroom, handing the work to every student. Reception to it varies from complete indifference to some outright taking the sheet and throwing it to the ground with a grunt of annoyance.

That does it. Your patience reached its limit. You slam your hands on your desk as hard and as loudly as you can. It hurt, but you don’t let it show.

“Alright, hear me out! Whoever doesn’t finish the today’s work is staying here during lunch hour to finish it. I don’t care if any of you don’t get to eat. You’re finishing today’s work!” you say firmly, and with anger clear on your voice.

A few of them seem taken aback by your sudden reaction, while others, like the three that were talking this morning and bragging about their criminal parents start laughing.

“Yeah, sure thing, dude,” one of them says.

“Think you can keep us here by ****?” another adds, looking down on you.

“Sure I can,” you say, looking at them straight in the eyes, the fear building inside you not showing even a little bit. “You think I’m scared of a few brats too lazy to even read a couple of paragraphs? Or should I start teaching you how to read instead?”

“The fuck did you say!?” One of them, Gabriel Green, a tall, dark skinned boy stands up aggressively and walks up to you with heavy steps. The chatter in the classroom completely dies down as they all see this happen. “Are you calling me stupid!?”

The kid is right in front of you, looking down at you. He’s at least a head and a half taller. You feel sick. This kid could, without issue, punch the lights out of you in one hit. Yet you’re already here. You don’t pull away. You swallow you fear and keep staring him down.

“Oh, so you’re not? Good! Then you can complete the work no problem. Show me you can do it. Prove it. Because I don’t believe you’re stupid, I don’t believe any of you are, but with the way you’re acting, I might have to start believing it.”

“You’re asking for it.” Gabriel threatens, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt.

“Do you think I give a damn, Mr. Gabriel Green? Is this how you’ll solve all your problems? Try punching that sheet of paper, see if it solves anything.”

Then the fist comes down. Man, the kid is strong! One punch and you’re on the floor. Your cheek hurts, but it doesn’t seem like anything’s broken. You hear the heavy stomps of the boy as he throws the door open and leaves the classroom.

There’s complete silence. Some kids are looking at you with wide eyes, some are looking down as if afraid they’ll be next. You stand up and check yourself. Yes, it hurt a lot but you seem to be okay.

You want to cry. Not because of the pain, but out of frustration. Was that necessary? Should you have exploded like that? Who knows what kind of situation that boy has at home. Was it okay to say those things to him?

“I apologize for that scene,” you say with a heavy sigh. You try your best to maintain the façade of composure. “I need to see where Mr. Green went. I’ll be back soon. Please, finish the work. You can do it in pairs if you wish. I’ll say again what I told Mr. Green. I don’t believe any of you are stupid. I know you’re capable. Don’t waste your talents.”

You leave the room, still filled with an awkward silence.