Apathy Jack writes:
Wagging has become a bit of a problem at Hoodrat. "A bit" as in classes with between thirty and sixty percent of students away on any given day.
My Year 12s were slowly dribbling in, but several minutes had elapsed, and we were still in single figures. So, as you do, I found myself standing on a desk screaming that I would judge them all.
A Year 12 wandered in and looked up at me. (I'm not sure if his complete lack of surprise at what I was doing was a good thing or a bad thing, but it probably means I'm doing my job properly...)
"Come in and sit down," I said pleasantly. "You're just in time to be judged."
The boy looked at me again. The star of his family, he's been kept out of his brothers' gangs by his Christian dance group, and objects to some of the stories I give the less literate students because they have swearing and anti-social behaviour in them (which is, of course, why the other children like them...).
He looked up - higher than me.
"I'm only judged by one man," he said, solemnly.
"Yes. There is only one of me."
And somewhere in hell, a demon stenciled my name onto a parking space.