Monday morning. American
literature class. That semester we were studying John Steinbeck’s East of Eden.
I had my back to the students and was writing this quote on the board, in my
beautiful cursive hand (I’m not bragging. I do have a beautiful handwriting. Can’t
you tell?):
“There’s more beauty in truth, even if it is dreadful
beauty.”
I put a full stop
and, beaming, turned around to face my motley crew. This is the disheartening picture
that confronted me:
Ten disinterested and
tired-looking boys and girls. I saw nineteen bleary eyes. Yes, nineteen. Do you
think I can’t count? At that very moment, “Dirty” Harry was winking at his girlfriend
who was on the point of swooning. I have no idea why he was called Dirty Harry.
I never asked. Mark Shwartzenneger (no relation whatsoever to the famous
beekeeper) had his hand under the desk, probably thinking I was not on to him
texting on his mobile phone. Fred Brighton, aptly nicknamed “Fred the Ferret”
had his index finger up his nose and was diligently foraging for some.. well
you got the picture. I know it’s gross. Do you think I’m happy having him
there, day in day out? Betty Callaghan, the Barbie doll of the class, had a
hand mirror in her hand and was checking her make-up. Mildred Burk was
vehemently chewing gum as if her life depended on it. N’dongo Bongalono, a
recent transfer from Nigeria, was muttering under his breath, probably singing
as I could see a white wire snaking out of his ear and into his breast pocket. Next
to him was Stephen Queen. Yeah, I know, what are the odds? His thin lips were
pinched around a straw and he was eagerly sucking from what looked like a coke
can. Right behind Stephen, Bart “the Bard”, the class poet, was unsuccessfully
trying to hide his tablet. I was sure he was on face book, chatting to one of
his girlfriends. And last but not least, right at the back of the class,
reclining against the wall, eyelids drooping and bags under his eyes, was the
jokester of the class, the one and only Billy Shears. I have to admit he’s my
favourite. He’s always ready for a laugh and quick on the uptake. Had it not been
for him, I would probably have abandoned this lot to the next hapless teacher
that was willing to take them.
One of Billy’s numerous funny quips that comes
to mind is this. One day he arrived in class ten minutes late. When I told him
he should’ve been here at 8, he replied: “Why? What happened?”
That Monday morning,
wanting to instill some life in them, I told them:
“Guys, looks like you
spent last night partying. You look like death warmed up. Come on! Wakey,
wakey! Let me tell you what I did this morning. I woke up at 6, ran my daily
two miles, had a hearty breakfast then took a shower and felt rosy all over.”
From the back of the
class, came Billy Shears’s voice:
“Tell us more about
Rosy.”