Page 11 of The Teacher

We used to do a lot of steamy stuff in here.

Forget about him. That was a week ago, and you haven’t seen him since. He’s out of your life, probably gone back to America or hell or wherever hole he crawled out of.

“How about we start slowly and then build-up to the famous lines, hey?” I ask the class rhetorically. Well, I intend it to be rhetorical. No one in this room will answer me anyway. “How about we run over the story of the play and the basic background of the time it was written in first, shall we?”

Still, no answers.

I’ve been a teacher for nearly three years and I still feel as lost as my first day when it comes to getting a classroom’s attention. I think I’m one of those teachers who takes some time for students to warm up to, but when they do it’s the best moments. That’s how it’s worked in the past. But, right now, this class is not warmed up, they’re more like a frozen bit of chicken. I’m gonna have to really work hard this term to get them up to speed.

Before the big exams.

The scary, job-destroying exams. A measure of my teaching prowess.

Sandy, don’t think about the exams. Don’t think about your job being on the line.

I turn to the whiteboard and start writing out what scenes the students will have to read by next class. At this rate, I may have to resort to my nuclear option and put on the film Romeo + Juliet. At least Leonardo DiCaprio might be able to teach these kids a line or two of Shakespeare.

I have just started writing out the whole “two households” bit when I hear a commotion behind me. Someone starts yelling. A boy’s voice. I turn around quickly to see two of the kids in the back row, Tom and James, full-on fighting each other.

Like real, proper fighting.

Jesus.

They’re really going at each other. The full monty. Arms wrapped around the other. Heads butting. Bodies falling to the floor. It only takes a second before the whole class is on their feet, enthusiastically cheering the two boys on. Egging each one to do more damage to the other. The words coming out of Tom and James’ mouths are indecipherable, a series of grunts and the occasional swear word. I hadn’t heard such filth from a pair of eleven-year-olds before.

This is, for sure, much more attention-grabbing for the class than my little acting display.

I drop my whiteboard marker and storm towards the two fighting boys. The other kids move out of my way.

I don’t really know what to do, I’ve never dealt with a fight like this before.

Do I get physical and rip one boy off the other? Is that even allowed? Will I get sued by an irate parent? What do I do?

What do I do?

“Stop,” I say to them, my voice wavering. My lack of confidence is pretty evident.

Not the best start.

“Stop fighting.”

Tom and James ignore me. They’re too busy engaged with beating the seven hells out of each other to listen to the weak commands of their English teacher.

“Stop it, boys.”

No response beyond the continued grunting and swearing.

They’re getting even more violent now, thrashing and biting at each other. Tom pulls at James’ collar and they tumble towards the classroom door, the other children scrambling to get out of their way. Tom and James don’t care about the other students, they are engaged in a battle to the death. They don’t care about their collateral damage or their exasperated English teacher franticly following them. Even though they’re just young boys, I know that a single punch from one of them can knock me to the ground. I’ve got to be careful.

The last thing I need on my job-performance card is that I was knocked out by a stray punch of one of my students.

“Stop this right now! Stop fighting!”

Tom pulls at James’ shirt until they stumble out of the classroom. They’re in the school hallway now, making such a loud noise that students from other classes have streamed out of their own rooms, sensing blood’s gonna be spilled any moment. Kids are like sharks, attracted to even the prospect of blood. It seems like half the school is fitted into this hallway, forming a spectator circle around the two boys as they duke it out in full view of everyone.

Well, this wasn’t how my first class on Romeo and Juliet was meant to go, that’s for sure.

I work my way through the gathering crowd of watching students and make it into the makeshift boxing ring. The boys don’t pay any attention to me. They’ve started trading insults at each other.