Yesterday I picked up some takeaway noodles from town, and when I was walking back, a man waved at me from the cafe next door.
I walked on over, and he raised his hand, and we did the ‘bro handshake thing’ that I can never quite get right.
“Good to see you man. How’s your family?” he said.
So I told him my parents have been away, and that’s the reason we haven’t been at the cafe recently. Hopefully soon though!
“Pass on my best wishes to them.”
He always seems so chilled out. I like him a lot.
And I asked him “How have you been?”
He shook his head and said, “It’s been so quiet. Very quiet this year.”
“Oh yeah, you were fasting?” I said.
“So many people this year…”
I couldn’t quite tell how he was feeling. Was he pleased about how many people were joining in with fasting? Or was he sad that his business was slower than usual? I think it was probably both.
“Do you remember?” he asked. “Do you remember the first time you came to this cafe?”
I do remember. It was early in the morning, and we heard the call to prayer played over their radio speakers.
“It was Ramadan then. We were all fasting. And most of the people that come to this cafe, they’re Muslim. So it’s been very quiet. But last week, we celebrated Eid. There were… 28… 29 people in here, so many people.”
“29!?!?”
I remember how excited the kids in school used to get.
When Eid was near, you could feel the anticipation build over the whole community.
“What’s your favourite part of Eid, Ameer?” I asked a boy I worked with. (not his real name)
“The funfair” he said, without hesitation.
“The funfair?”
Yes, the funfair. Many Muslim families went to the same funfair at Eid. The day after, he pointed out other kids to me.
“Mr Wilson, I saw her at the funfair.”
“Hi Ameer” she said.
“Mr Wilson, I saw him at the funfair too.”
“Hi Ameer” he said.
“Mr Wilson, I-“
Karan took a day off for Eid too. (also not his real name)
“What’s your favourite part of Eid, Karan?” I asked him.
“The Flash.”
The… Flash? I wondered what he meant.
“Yes I love watching The Flash. He’s so fast.”
And then he demonstrated how fast The Flash runs by running on the spot.
“That fast.”
I told his mum what he said at the end of the day, and it made her laugh. Then we said “Eid Mubarak” to each other and they walked home.
The other kids got excited too. The school was so empty that it felt special. It felt like a holiday. We’d mostly pause teaching, and do something more fun instead.
“Why are Karan and Ameer not in school today, Mr Wilson?”
And I explained, and then she said-
“Wow! That’s so cool!”
One thing I’ve learned about people is… kids don’t care about any differences between us. Hatred’s a learned response, and these children haven’t had time to learn it yet.
“Mr Wilson, I’m going to make Karan a card for when he comes back.”
“Ok Katie, that would be very nice.”
Kids sometimes see and say things exactly as they are. They aren’t burdened with the baggage of resentment, or fear, or shame.
“Mr Wilson, why does Eddy’s mum look like a man now?”
“Ah- well-“
If only more of us could take that stance, and let go of our prejudices. I learned a lot from working in that school.
“Hello Eddy’s dad. Well done for being Eddy’s dad now.”
“Thank you very much Katie” said Eddy’s dad, giggling to himself.
I asked Eddy’s dad - his other dad - for his advice.
“You see, Eddy really wants to make his dad a mother’s day card, and I wanted to ask you for advice on how to proceed?”
He laughed and then caught his breath and then said, “Oh he sees ‘mum’ as an earned title, so he’d be very pleased to get a mother’s day card.”
Ok great, just checking.
Divali! The school was decorated from head to toe with colourful cutout cardboard decorations. My colleague Mrs N told me about all the preparations she had to do over the weekend for her family. Marty was practising his dance for the Divali assembly. And Karan told me about his family’s Divali plans.
“Wait, didn’t you celebrate Eid, Karan?”
Yes, that’s right. His dad’s side is Muslim. His mum’s side is Hindu.
“Let me guess” I said. “Your favourite part of Divali is-“
“The Flash!” called out Karan.
Then I saw Marty’s parents standing with an excited looking Marty.
“You were so good Marty!” his mum said. I guess she was referring to his dance in assembly. I don’t think they celebrate Divali, or anything at all, but Marty did tell me that his favourite subject was RE (religious education), and Mrs N did tell me that Marty was being great in her lesson. And, oh yes, Marty is jumping up and down, shaking his hands with excitement. That’s good. He could really do with a confidence boost seeing as-
“Mr Wilson?”
Wha- Who was that? I think I was drifting off.
I look over and see a nervous-looking Ameer standing behind his dad.
“Ameer has come to apologise” his dad said to me (and him).
Oh yes, I remember. He broke all my pencils this morning after getting a question wrong.
“We just want to thank you for all your help with- And you see, in my culture, we have a lot of respect for teachers.”
“Oh that’s very kind of you but Ameer said sorry earlier on today and it’s all-“
“Sorry Mr Wilson” Ameer whispered out.
“That’s ok Ameer, it’s finished now. Tomorrow is a new day.”
I dropped all of my cards on the floor, and they flickered around everywhere, and that was enough, after that day, and I just started to well up, with my knees on the floor, and Mrs H came to pick me up, and looked me in the eye, and told me that everything was going to be ok.
I was sitting in the staff room, eating my lunch, exhausted. Mr Thomas was sitting beside me, playing Pokémon GO.
“I started when everyone else did” he told me. “The only difference is, I never stopped. And it turns out someone set up a gym exactly where the-“
“MR THOMAS!” said the loudest and most respected person in the school, Mrs Gordon, walking in with her walking stick. She’s deputy head teacher, loved and feared by all children and adults alike. She’s the one that got me this job in the first place.
“MARVELLOUS assembly today. My class were RAVING about it. FULLY ENGAGED. And they had so many FOLLOW UP QUESTIONS afterwards. You MUST COME and speak with them this afternoon.”
“Oh- uhh- yes- I-“
Mr Thomas tried to compose himself, and just about managed to keep his kippah from falling off his head.
“DON’T WORRY Mr Thomas, I’ll take your class for the end of the day” she said while sitting herself down in between the two of us. “BESIDES. I’ve been looking forward to saying hello to AMEER again anyway.”
Then she gave me a wink.
I brought in my ukulele to show the class. Mo loved it. He brought it into the sensory room and looked at himself in the mirror as he played it. Strumming strumming strumming. In his own world, strumming strumming strumming. Then he turned to me and said the most words I ever heard him say in a row.
“You want to hear it?”
Yes! Yes I do!
Then he sung me a song. It was beautiful! I think he learnt it from Peppa Pig.
We managed to film him doing it a second time, and we showed his mum at the end of the day. His mum was such a kind woman, and always wore an elegant headscarf. Mo enjoyed showing her the song again and again, and I decided to leave my ukulele at school. It’s ok, I had another one at home anyway!
I told him that this would either be my making or my breaking, and he said to me, looking me dead in the eye, “It’ll be your making, lad.”
“Mr Wilson, we need your help with Josh in reception. He’s fighting again and-“
Mrs S looked exhausted, and out of breath, standing there in the doorway.
I turned to make eye contact with Alex, and I pointed at them while tilting my head. They pointed back at me, then they pointed at Eddy next to them. I rolled my hands over each other like a windmill. Then they nodded at me, and they stood up.
“Ok everyone, Mr Wilson is going to go say hello to Josh so we’re going to-“
Alex’s voice faded away as I walked down the corridor with Mrs S.
“Good to see you, Mrs S. Why don’t you talk me through everything that happened.”
“Now I know what the government advice has been saying. But we are going to teach all of the-“
Mrs K sat next to me in the staff room, and she told me “Luke, I have a chronic illness too.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes, it’s very very hard sometimes. So I’m very pleased you’re doing something to look after your-“
“MR WILSON!”
Uh oh, it’s Mrs Gordon.
“EDDY is looking VERY CROSS in the playground. You might need to-“
“Ok I’m coming.”
“Ok, Josh, you’re in school very early with me this morning, so I’d like to ask you to help me get the classroom ready. Is that ok?”
Josh gave me a salute, and started getting out the chairs. And I carried on writing emails, until-
“Marty!!!!!” Josh called out.
Oh ok, looks like Marty is here early too.
“Josh!!!!” said Marty.
Marty’s dad came running behind him. “Sorry Mr Wilson, I’ve got to get to the hospital so is it ok if I drop off Marty early today?”
“Ah- I mean- well… ok sure thing” and then I got back to my emails, while Marty started setting up the timetable.
“Eddy!!!!!” said Josh.
“Josh!!!” said Eddy.
“Eddy!!!” said Marty.
“Marty!!!” said Eddy.
“Sorry, we didn’t have to pick up Olly today, so Eddy’s here early” said the transport assistant.
“Ok… no worries. Come on in, Eddy.”
And then I got back to my emails.
“Ameer!!!!”
“Katie!!!”
“Ameer!!”
“Mo!”
“Ok everyone, let’s get out some drawing and-“ and I almost gave up on my big email plans until-
“Alright Mr Wilson!” said Alex, as they walked into the classroom half an hour early.
“Alright everyone, let’s go outside and let Mr Wilson do his emails. Look, I can see The Flash outside already!”
“Miss J, that’s technically not The Flash. That’s actually Karan.”
“Karan!!!!”
“Oi Wilson”
“Alright Wilson”
“Hello Mr Wilson”
“Mr Wilson”
“How’s it going Mr W”
I can’t help but think through
all these cutout memories.I don’t recall them
as continuous stories
but tiny snippets
of folded moments
connected together
with cardboard grooves.They try to remind me
of what’s important
the humanity I saw
seemed small at the time
but looking back
brought me so much meaning.I hope to hold on
to all of that
so I tape them together
torn cardboard stuck
to a paper page
(long may it last).
“Yes, 29!!”
“That’s incredible! 29 people!? Inside there!??!”
“Yes that’s right.”
“You know, one of our friends was fasting this time, but she got ill, so she had to stop.”
“Ah yes, it’s very hard.”
“Yes it must be.”
“You have to practise. You know, my son is 14 years old. Guess how long he fasted.”
“I don’t know. How long?”
“18 days!”
“18!?!”
“Oi Wilson, I’ve got a bone to pick with you.”
“Oh no… what have I done now?”
“Nothing. I just fancied a chat away from the others.”
Back to the wikiblogarden.