It’s the first class of the first day of fourth term. No work has been left for the little darlings, so I write up my own made up on-the-spot lesson on the board:
1. 15 mins talk about what you did on the holidays.
2. Write about what you did on the holidays, the highlights, the lowlights, etc.
Predictable, I know, but always a reliable post-holiday starter. Most of the kids are noisy, but most get down to the work soon enough. I go around the room encouraging kids to write. I get the usual “I didn’t do anything” responses. They’re either just being lazy or lack imagination. One girl up the front has no such problems – she’s powering away writing about her camping trip.
One little girl, decked out in eye shadow and shiny lip gloss, enthusiastically tells me she got her navel pierced. Her dad apparently wasn’t happy because she didn’t tell him, and so was grounded for the rest of the holiday. She and her friend then tell me about their car trip to a shopping mall and how they almost made a car full of guys nearly crash on the way. I start to wonder what they could have been doing to cause that, when one of their friends gives me a graphic demonstration of them simulating oral sex with her thumb and fingers. It’s amazing really: these are twelve year old girls already testing their sexual powers over men and enjoying it immensely.
Another girl, Casey, wants me to read what she’s written. It’s a lurid and badly spelled account of various trips to the cinema with friends and a hopefully imaginary account of a dalliance with her ‘boyfriend’ in someone’s bedroom. She comes up and asks me what I thought of it. I tell her it’s a “nice fantasy”. She says she particularly liked the bedroom bit. I’ll bet.
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