I have always loved kids and thankfully they love me back. Needless to say, I was extremely pleased to be working as a teacher, in a primary school full of wonderful and beautiful little kids.
Now as much as they are adorable, children can be quite a handful too. I’ve had my fair share of tantrums, disrespect and stubbornness, but have managed to keep my cool. It takes time but I think I’ve learnt to manage my feelings and respond in a calm and appropriate manner. Merely reacting would be less than ideal.
One day at school though, a wild thought crossed my mind. It came from nowhere but settled quite nicely in my head, where it burrowed deep and occupied my attention. It was a simple question: What if?
And so I waited, and something happened. A student of mine pushed his classmate, and laughed a wicked laugh. When he turned and saw me looking, he immediately pretended to help his friend up, with a sudden look of concern.
I went up to him, yanked him by the collar, and lifted him up. By the collar. Then I slammed him into the ground, twice, before walking away.
It didn’t take long before some colleagues confronted me, and I showed them no mercy. I smashed my fist through their faces, kicked them in their stomachs, hurled them into benches. I wasn’t angry, just tired from all that movement. They came at me again and I kept beating them up until finally someone managed to subdue me.
It was a good day.