The road from my house to the school where I'm teaching is a daily eight minute trip. All along the way, I can hardly wipe out a certain number of engraved scenes in my head by the dint of the so many times my conscious captures them. I often have morning classes. As my lungs receive fresh morning air, my ears catch a slow rusty noise of a latch not too far being opened by the force of a soft hand. Taking a few steps ahead, my eyes fall upon small shining eyes hidden in a greased face stuck on a body stuffed in a dark blouse that obviously belongs to someone else . It's a ten year small young kid opening a twenty year big old workshop door. His eyes often fall on my back-and-forth moving bag wondering what's inside. It’s five minutes far from school.
I rarely have to have a look at my watch to check how late I am. I always know just a few blocks far from school that It’s 7:55 am. It’s the exact time when a mid-aged single mom spreads some old torn rags on the naked hard floor for herself and her no-named toddler to start a journey of a day long endless job of begging. You might think that she’s singing, but her words are a series of arithmetic rhyming pleads. This block is her spot. She’s cloned in almost every second block. It’s 08:00 am, I’m in the classroom. The first routine is checking for absence. I’m teaching 15 to 18 years aged students. Though occasionally happening, it’s so saddening when you call the name of a student and all you hear is silence. A few second later: “She’s absent, teacher. She got married.” Looking at her tablemate; “Can she be a mom at this age?” her eyes wonder, at best ponder. The session is almost over, the students are copying. I’m having a look through the window; a bird eye view. It doesn’t last for long. No greener areas to rest your eyes on and the car smoke is casting out the morning fresh air I first had.
School time is over; time to head back home. There are many students from both sexes gathering at the gate. Each time I just wonder what they’re talking about and my all time fear is how much they know about the dangers of drugs, sexuality and emptiness. Adolescence is a discovering age. At the top of things adolescents have to discover comes what might harm their health and future. I’m almost home. My shoes start knocking the two meter pavement that lead to my doorstep. Each time, I would spot a shadow on the wall across my house. Always made me think it might be a ghost only to find out later that it’s of a mid-aged girl who sees the world only through the window.
