Her school skirt rolled up, so short it was obscene,

As we sat in the glowing classroom, tapping pencils

On the glossy table tops, trying to ignore

The gnawing in our adult bellies, knowing it’s all lies.

She smiles lopsidedly, knowing how to work the crowd,

Her voice that shouts at me in normal times, is sweet,

A honey smear across the air between us. Strange

When normally the books are thrown in graceless arcs

And looks are shot in painful icy stares. She lied

Tonight before her worthy jury, saying words

Programmed from her primary days, she knows

Exactly what to do and I… I’m clueless,

My stomach crimped and cramped with fear.

I had what we in the industry call a ‘restorative conversation’. I put that in air quotes because I don’t feel like anything has been restored. I feel like that student is going to give me hell in the next lesson.

I really like the idea of restorative conversations rather than detentions because I think kids deserve a say, and it also gives me a chance to tell them exactly why they have been held back and what we can do to improve in the next lesson.

However, it also gives students the chance to lie through their teeth to people higher up the food chain. I had a meeting with my head of department, the deputy head and the student and you would have thought butter wouldn’t melt from the way that she was speaking.

Even I was almost fooled, and I’ve been on the receiving end of her nastiness for two months now. I guess only time will tell.

Much Love

Rachel xx