Teaching the teachers.

Exam board courses bore the shit out of me so I always find myself people-watching. Here in this private school waiting area, in amongst the white, bright Polaroids of achievement sit five other state school teachers: four on their phones. We teach a discursive subject, one which opens the minds of youngsters to the vicarious thrills of misadventure. Two are playing Candy Crush, one’s on Facebook and the third looks disdainfully sideways at the fourth – reading a dog-eared novel.

We’re ushered into a classroom as the student receptionist smiles and is gracefully ignored. Her smile only falters when I smile back. She probably thinks I’m odd.  The human circus is in here amongst the semi-colon posters. An open-mouthed yawning blonde ignores my sitting down smile. Every eye magnetically repels the other and by the fourth missed opportunity to ‘break the ice’ we’re locked down into our silence. The brunette opposite sets her phone on the desk – close at hand for the first coffee break.

As the course starts we make all the same mistakes in here as we do every day. Some are left behind. Others hide and some try to lead and are allowed to. Pregnant questions are still born, no such thing as stupid ones answered. One table wobbling with strappy tops and infidelity manage to work their way through two blank sheets and three pens in the first hour. I develop calluses from turning to the wrong pages. Yawning blonde hides her sighs when nobody joins in. Dry-eared old hands cross their arms.

I have a people-watching system. I go left to right. I look around; see white faces looking at white pages from dead white people. In my mind appear Slavic eyes glazed from wondering why ‘Jamaica Inn’ is out of dope and pirates. Darker faces ask what Glastonbury is. We focus on the summit whilst the foundations crumble. We look into the horizon with our shoelaces tied together.

About to move en masse to lunch, shuffling in the deafening silence, there’s so much left unquestioned. I open my mouth, but spot a picture of Atticus and his kids so I bunk off early to go home and see mine.