Part SevenMature

Our poem in English is To His Coy Mistress and I absolutely hate it. 

We've analysed it, scrutinised it, and analysed it again. Over and over again.

It's just another not-as-sappy-as-it-seems poem showing how desperate a guy is. Another poem in which a guy tries to pressure a girl into having sex with him. Another poem which makes sex sound weird and disgusting. 

Plus, it's To His Coy Mistress, so he's cheating on his wife.

When I discuss the with Anna on Tuesday morning, she rolls her eyes. 

"We're doing the same poem," she says. "My teacher asked us what we thought the message of the poem is, so I put my hand up and said 'dear young girl, who I may or may not have feelings for. I know you're really not ready to have sex yet, but the thing is, I'm insanely horny right now. And if we don't do it, you will never get laid."

My eyes widen. "Really?"

"No," she laughs. "I muttered it and the teacher heard and sent me out because it was inappropriate."

I grin. "You know the actual message is supposed to be carpe diem?" 

"Are you kidding me?" Anna exclaims. "That's stupid. Men are stupid. They think they can get what they want if they demand and beg, but sweetly. It's like: seize the day, and get laid. Sleep with me, sweet young maid."

I don't know what's so funny about that, but we both end up in fits of giggles.


Just before lunch, the teachers call an assembly. All the black kids and all the white kids sit together in assembly, like we do in lessons. It leads me to believe that the teachers haven't noticed the divide between us. That's something  I don't get. They must have noticed. I mean, it's just so... obvious.

There have never been teacher in the dinner hall. Not ones who teach, anyway. But the  kitchen staff can't be oblivious to the fact that black kids and white  kids sit on opposite sides of the room. 

We've been required to bring sandwiches since there's no cooking equipment in the gazebo, but they have to have noticed before then. It's only been up a month.

I suppose they could keep it to themselves, but why? And how? When there's nothing to talk about in the staff room, surely someone's dropped a comment.

"Hey, have you noticed that all the kids on the left of the dinner hall are white?"

Something like that.

Or do the kitchen staff not talk to the teachers?

I don't know.

The assembly happens to be about the gazebo. Apparently, out head teacher doesn't like it when we think for ourselves, or actually do something productive for once.

"I understand," he says, about halfway through his speech about it, "That you haven't been put in the best of situations. And I know that it was very short notice, and that the conditions of the temporary habitation are not perfect. But what you have done is classed as vandalism, however helpful you may have intended it to be. Perhaps it would have been better if you had informed a member of staff of your discomfort."

Someone shouts out that that's exactly what we did, which it is. I swear, every member of staff must have been complained to at least ten times.

The head tells us that there's going to be a school council meeting, which will decide what is to be don about our makeshift walls. 

Since the school council is made up mainly of students, my best guess is that absolutely nothing will be done about it.

The End

22 comments about this story Feed