The car park is empty - no nervy Skodas are lined up outside the Music Classroom - no long limbed boys carve lewd graffiti in steamy classrooms - the corridors are silent - in the school hall are nests of polypropylene chairs -
Walking to the sports centre, I remember my first year of teaching -
I'd enter my classroom, burdened with exercise books I'd marked the night before - I'd written good or see me in desperate biro -
I'd get out my register, with its lists of names -
I'd put up another poster of Julius Caesar -
I'd check my time table for the day -
The hands of the classroom clock would start to go round in syrup -
The bell would sound - then I'd hear them, my class, their young voices, full of artless bravado, innocents facing the old world -
10.15
Friday 19 February 2016
Purbeck Sports Centre
Purbeck School
Wareham
Dorset
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