clocked in. greeted and smiled at teachers. talked to some. then time for daily assembly. walked back to the staff room. wrote daily lesson plan, got ready the materials for the next camp.off to class.
walked up the stairs, met some boys hanging by the corridor.
"tuck in your shirt!".
walked straight to class. idzuan was absent again. revised on an excerpt taken from Macbeth and Yeats' poem. told them to write down the poems. started walking around the class. the boys were talking softly to each other, looking at my shoes. a loud whisper,
"tengok kasut teacher tu"
"stop looking at my shoes!"
wore a pair of brown Carlo Rino ballet slippers with ribbons. more were looking at my shoes. started teaching them. was in my element as i was teaching them literature. real, pure literature. finished class.
12noon. 2nd class. revised on The Prisoner of Zenda. they read the book. went around the class. more looked at my shoes.
"stop looking at my shoes!"
one boy looked as if he's so into reading as he rested his head on his arm, which rested on the table. the book was in his lap. hmm...something's not right. knocked on his table. didnt look up. 2nd knock. red eyes looked up, startled.
"dont sleep again, isamuddin, or else i'm going to tell your father" (his father is the discipline teacher)
the monitor, aki, was being himself again. he whined today. hareez was making a lot of comments. didnt stop commenting and said something obscene.
"hareez, i'm going to chilli your mouth and chlorox your mind".
asyram laughed "how are you going to pour the chlorox in, teacher?".
told them to summarise each chapter. they were stunned, response was slow. that meant they didnt revise. made them write on the board. well, finally they did it. work done. sighed. walked out of the class.
2 comments:
I wish I had a teacher like you when I was in school :) I had a sir, instead :( enthralled by your fragmented narratives. They sound 'crispy' to me, short and sweet.
thanx nash :o)
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