My First Day At School

Grace

The low murmurs of excited school children marched in a packed, tight formation like a group of soldier ants on a serious march until it reached my ears. It roused a corresponding flutter in the pit of my stomach and I pressed my palms against the muscles of my belly to bring them to heel. Like the fearless soldier ants, I marched on. But the closer I got to the school gates, the faster and louder my heart pounded.

I glanced at my fellow passersby, wondering if they could hear my heart pounding. Obviously not, because they had on that fixed, set expression of determined workers intent on getting to their places of work on time. I stopped for a second before the gigantic school gates. Bad memories rose like a group of suddenly disturbed flies, taunting me with knowledge of my discomfort. In and out, in and out, I inhaled and exhaled in an effort to settle my wrangling nerves.

Source- pexels

The name of the school was spelt out in giant, bold letters atop the gate, the pride, status and wealth of the educational institution clearly evident. I stared at the gate with some resentment. I was no visitor. And I certainly didn’t need the letters seated atop the gate like some ice queen patronizing her subjects to remind me where I stood. You see, some six years ago I vowed never to step my foot within the great walls of the school.

Was I really here?

I took another breath and turned my wrists to check my old wristwatch. 7.20 A.M. As I already knew, the students would assemble in the great hall by 7.45 A.M.
Was I really here? Was I really about to step into this hell of a school again? A quick glance around the front gate confirmed, yes, I was here indeed. I gave the road I just walked through a look of such intense longing I could feel my tongue hanging out like that of a dog in heat.
To hell with it, I decided. I didn’t have to do this. I turned around and--”
“Miss Grace, it’s so good to see you again.”
I turned and for the first time since I made the decision to come back, the wings of my heart lifted awkwardly like a broken bird’s, then it gathered momentum and fluttered with joy. With his stooped shoulders, dark complexion and lean frame, the old security man who manned the gate stood with a wide welcoming smile.

“Good morning Sir, it’s good to see you again.”
For the next twenty minutes we caught up on old times. A car drove up and I watched the painfully old man shuffle to open the gates. His presence reassured me somewhat. But not completely.
I walked through the gates and nearly ran into a student. With her neatly braided hair and smart green and white uniform, she looked beautiful.

You don't want to be flogged, do you?

“Oh sorry,” she said with a wide smile. She cocked her head to the side. “I’m Mary. Is this your first day? Come on it’s almost assembly time and the Principal is so strict and generous with his cane. ”
I raised an eyebrow as my whole body stiffened in disbelief.
“Come on!” she urged, “you don’t want to be flogged, do you?”
Another group of students surged through the gates. I would have been trampled but Mary reacted lightning quick and pulled me out of the melee.

“Hey,” she brushed some imaginary lint of my shoulders. “You’re new, I get it. I remember what’s like. You can seat with me and I will show you around.”
We were of the same height, about five-four. But she had more meat on her bones. I had graduated from University at the too young age of nineteen. I was twenty but I’ve been told I looked fifteen sometimes.
“Is she new?” A teenage boy of about sixteen asked Mary.
“Yes and--”
“She’s pretty, cool.” He winked and walked off.
Exasperated and amused, I pulled away from Mary. “Go on, I will be right there.”
I found my way to the Principal’s office. With a boldness I never had before, I knocked once and walked right in. Mr Luke glanced up and smiled. I gave him a cool nod in return and took my seat.
“Miss Grace,” he smirked. “You’ve come a long way from the kid I used to flog for not paying her fees.”
I smiled. Genuinely and widely. “Yes. The kid you used to flog for not paying school fees that’s not her responsibility to pay is back here as your new chemistry teacher.” I rose with quiet dignity. “I will be in my office, unless there’s anything you wish to add?”
He picked a pen off his table, placed it in his shirt pocket, took it out and replaced it carefully on the table. All while avoiding my eyes.
“Miss--ah--”
“Grace.” I smirked.
“It was a long time ago--”
“Of course. And I still recall like it was yesterday.”
He stiffened. “It’s a long time and a lot has changed. We’ve followed your progress over the years in University. We heard about your exploits. You truly made us proud.”
He watched me carefully.
I kept my expression carefully bland.
“We are happy to have such a brilliant alumni back in our school.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You need me.”
The words soft and edged with steel landed in the air and I watched with satisfaction as he flinched. I recalled one time when he dragged the debtors to the front of the same hall where the assembly was being held. He’d made us bend over with our rump in the air and flogged us for not paying our fees. I had never forgotten. I had flinched at every stroke also.
I turned and walked away.

By the time I took the flight of stairs to the next floor where the chemistry laboratory was located, I was out of breath. The assembly was over and I watched with a mixture of nostalgia and amusement as the students excitedly made their way to their classes. As a student, I was never happy in this school because I couldn’t relax my guard. I never knew when some spirit would take hold of the Principal and he’d charge into a class, grab a debtor and take his frustration out on the poor child.
Impotent rage shook me. I couldn’t believe the school authorities hadn’t sacked him a long time ago.
Regardless, I loved teaching and I wanted to set some things to rights. There would surely be many ‘me’. Students unable to pay their fees and being made to pay for something they could do nothing about. I straightened my spine and strode forward.
The first person I saw was Mary and a group of students outside the chemistry lab, waiting for me.

Did they flog you?

She separated from the group and approached me. “Did they flog you?”
I feigned shock. “They flog teachers now!”
“WHAT!” she exclaimed and drew back.
The others straightened, went quiet and eyed me warily.
“Someone should open the office for me,” I ordered firmly as I wrapped my sweaty palms tight around my handbag.
Mary held out her hand with an expressionless face. I studied her. She met my eyes defiantly. I almost missed the exuberant student who’d offered me a seat beside her.
“What is it?” I asked softly.
“Let me help you with your bag.” She bit her lip. “Ma.”
I smiled and handed her my handbag. Someone hissed. I played deaf. They began murmuring among themselves. Immediately the prefect opened the door, they surged past me into the laboratory. I made my way to the office located at the back to gather the textbooks I would need. I closed the door behind me.
My heart hammered so loudly it drowned out the growing murmurs of the students. I placed my palms flat on the table and took deep breaths. It was no help. My pulse raced so fast, I was left lightheaded.
The door opened and I straightened. It was Mary. She took one look at me and her expression softened.
“You’re nervous,” she observed.
I nodded swallowed past dry throat. “Very.”
She gathered the textbooks and stopped. I raised an eyebrow in inquiry. “You will be fine,” she said.
“Thank you.”

My heart is broken

I made my way into a very noisy laboratory. The murmurs were so loud I fought the urge to cover my ears. I took the time to study the students. Those at the back were so tall, I would have to look up at them. They noticed me and fell silent.
“Good morning,” I called from shaky lips as I strode to the raised dias in front on trembling legs.
Different murmurs reached my ears. Only Mary’s clear voice responded to my greeting. My heart rate increased. Another shot of epinephrine into my blood stream by my sympathetic nervous system and I wondered if I would faint before my own class on my first day.
I took a deep breath and released it, not caring I was being stared at by over twenty students like a helpless bug under a microscope.
“This one cannot teach me anything o,” One of the boys groused loudly and clearly enough that I couldn’t pretend not to hear.
I picked my pen and wrapped my fingers around it tight.
He held my gaze defiantly as his friends slapped his back in congratulations. Low murmurs of admiration rose from the back.
“Hi,” I croaked. “I will be your new chemistry teacher,” I ended in an embarrassing whisper.
They burst into laughter.
Shame and embarrassment pooled in the pit of my stomach. I looked towards Mary and saw her fighting a smile. My heart broke.
Suddenly the class went silent. I jerked my head up in surprise as the noise ceased. Their gazes were aimed at the door. I turned.
The Principal met my eyes, and smirked.

I am the 'Grace' in this story. After this experience, I've always wondered if it is advisable for young teachers of ages 19-23 with the right qualifications be employed as teachers in a classroom full of teenagers.
What do you think? Should young teachers be employed to teach teenagers in high school or secondary schools? What are the advantages and disadvantages?
Let me know in your comments.

Thank you