8th September // the heedless cruelty of youth
The first week of the school year is usually a lighthearted one. The students remain full of the joys of summer, unsquashable even in the face of dire predictions regarding the nearness of apparently distant exams. (And, though this may come as a surprise to those of my ex-students reading, I don't actually try very hard to squash them. That's what the second week is for.)
Usually, the week just gone is an excellent one in which to be a teacher.
But I taught every one of those kidnappedchild young people. There have been moments - too many - this week when I turned around, looked up, opened a door and saw them. It never was, of course. Not them, but another student, another young person paying no attention, messing about in the corridors, asking a question, giving the answer, with their whole life ahead of them.
I wonder, as I look at the corridors and classrooms of Hogwarts, will one of these children be next? The next to disappear into the night because some hooded figures have decided they are in some way undesirable?
This week has not been a good time to be a teacher.
Usually, the week just gone is an excellent one in which to be a teacher.
But I taught every one of those kidnapped
I wonder, as I look at the corridors and classrooms of Hogwarts, will one of these children be next? The next to disappear into the night because some hooded figures have decided they are in some way undesirable?
This week has not been a good time to be a teacher.