Goodbye and Good Luck · Tue May 16, 23:09 by Eleri Straker
Today my year 11 class had their last English lesson. We watched the Simpson’s version of Lord of the Flies (Das Bus) and ate white chocolate mice. In a way I’ll miss them. At least I’ll miss some of them, the ones who made the lessons worthwhile, the ones who made the effort and put their brains into gear. I’ll miss sweet-natured, clever Wes; funny, sharp Dan; witty, acerbic Andy. I’ll also miss watching Steve grow in confidence, listening to his insight develop. I’ll miss Ian and his humour and wonderfully surreal views on life. In fact, I’ll miss most of them…at least, I’ll miss the boys.
My year 11 class is very boy heavy. Out of a class of about 28, only eight of them are girls. This isn’t a problem as nearly all the boys are nice kids. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said of the girls. Of all of them, only a couple are reasonably pleasant.
In general, the girls have no interest whatsoever in English, literature, film or anything else remotely educational. Their entire conversation over the last two years has involved hair, makeup and last night’s date. Their interaction with the rest of the class has, in the main, been rude, dismissive and mocking. It’s a pity, but I feel that I have made a difference to most of the boys in the class: they understand Lord of the Flies, the poetry of Carol Ann Duffy and the power of Shakespeare. They also have a unique outlook on life, a sense of humour and the tools to do reasonably well in their forthcoming exams. As for the majority of the girls, well, I think I’ve failed them. They didn’t like my lessons or me and certainly didn’t like the fact that the boys ‘got it’ and they didn’t. It’s a real pity.
Tomorrow night is the year 11 prom. For the last however many years, I’ve always gone along to observe, to see the girls become young women in their beautiful gowns and their fabulous hair. This time, though, I have no desire to see them. Normally, I would be watching, with the other teachers as my class arrive in their limos, dressed to kill and up to the nines. Somehow, this year, despite the pleasure of teaching Wes and Dan and Andy and all the other bright sparks in my class, the shine has gone off the occasion, I don’t want to see the girls in their finery, as all they’ve bothered about for the last two years is their appearance. Going along to admire their frocks and their makeup will somehow make their attitude acceptable.
