The class quietened as she entered. She introduced me to the class and told me to take a seat next to George. “…and George, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like you to be Matthew’s chaperone until he gets used to things.”
“Oh… OK.” George muttered.
“Well you could sound a bit more enthusiastic George!” Miss O’Neill said. I sheepishly removed my jacket, hung it on the back of my chair and took my place, nervously glancing at the faces that glared at me. I meekly said ‘hi’ to George before facing front when Miss O’Neill began calling the register. Initially I figured George would have been a Georgina due to the short bobbed hairstyle and white plastic head band, but the same beige cardigan as mine means he’s a boy, right? I glance at each of my class mates as they call out ‘here miss’ when their names are called. George isn’t the only boy with a girlie hairstyle, but I’m certainly not the only boy with a normal haircut either. After the register is called, the gossiping starts. A group of kids gravitate to me and ask me all sorts of questions about where I’m from and what it’s like. I nervously answer but all the time I’m thinking “Why are you all acting so normal?!”
Samantha’s a girl, obviously. Paul is a boy with boyish hair. Andrew, like George has longer ‘girls’ hair, Annabel is also a girl, as is Melanie. They tell me about the various teachers, the good and the not so good, the friendly, the strict, and the classes they love or hate. “I can’t stand gym!” Andrew says.
“I like it.” Paul counters. Samantha agrees with Paul whilst Melanie and Annabel side with Andrew. George is indifferent and states that he prefers sports such as footie and cricket.
“I thought it’d be all netball and hockey.” I say. It transpires that they do play netball and hockey too, as well as rugby, lacrosse, basketball, tennis, rounders, athletics and cross country running in the summer.
The teacher called me over and I could feel numerous eyes burning into the backs of my legs, my girlie knee socks and my short pleated skirt as I approached her desk. She gave me a time table and told me that George is in all the same classes as me, so if I don’t know where I’m going, just follow him. “You’ll meet the headmaster before long.” she said. “He’s very nice but he’s a bit of a stickler.” she added. Her eyes dropped to my feet. I looked down too. “So make sure your socks are pulled up and the patterns are straight.” she advised in a friendly tone with an equally friendly smile. I thanked her and returned to my desk, took my seat and tended to my knee socks before looking at my timetable.
“What you got?” Samantha asked. “Double history.” she said, peering at my timetable.
“Yeah.” I replied. “Apparently the teacher’s a dinosaur.”
“Don’t let Miss hear you say that.” Annabel said.
“Why?” I dryly asked since it was Miss O’Neill that had told me.
“Because she’s the history teacher.” Paul informed me.
The bell rang and two thirds of the class filtered out and those who remained returned to their seats. “Right boys and girls… for the benefit of Matthew, who wants to tell us what we’ve been studying?” Miss O’Neill asked. Several hands went up in the air. “Michael.”
“The Cold War Miss.” Michael replied.
“And what can you tell us about the cold war Matthew?” the teacher asked me.
“Er…” I began, racking my brains. “It was after world war two, when the Russians and Americans were making nukes.” I said.
“Very good.” she said, smiling. “Natalie… what can you tell us about the cold war?”
The double history lesson was mostly discussion rather than copying facts from the board or a book. The class size is about half that at my old school and it felt much more involved than I’m used to. Rather than marking homework and telling us to shush, Miss O’Neil encouraged debate and participation from the entire class. We concentrated on the Cuban Missile crisis but I’d never heard the Russian point of view. Miss O’Neill asked us to consider what we have done under similar circumstances, but had us look at it from both sides. Her teaching was informative, active and very entertaining. I like history at the best of times but never so much as today.