Chapter One: The Life
Chapter Two: The Perspective
Chapter Three: The Theories
My days started out the same as many kids across the country with an early alarm, a uniform, and a slight feeling of foreboding about whether or not I had forgotten to do a bit of homework, which would result in a huge moment of embarrassment. The teachers seemed to find a slight feeling of ecstasy in causing a raucous in the middle of class about the irresponsibility of missing homework. This was a formidable offense which was avoided by every kid in the school. But this was not any school, this was a Catholic school. This was a Catholic school with teachers trooping in the hallways like there had been warnings of the fearful intrusion of a short skirt. So that was how the days started.
I would arrive at school bright and early, frantically checking with every friend I had that I had not forgotten to do any homework, and if so, frantically finding every resource to complete it. Then I would troop to my first period class, make sure all of my books were placed in an organized fashion upon my desk and then proceed to await the teacher’s arrival. Some teachers were wonderfully forgiving. If someone forgot their homework they could simply turn it in the next day without receiving a zero on the assignment and also will have avoided the horrible embarrassment of the teacher making it obvious to the class that you did not have it. But sometimes you were not so lucky. The teacher would look at you with that look of utter disappointment that always caused you to feel suddenly and terribly guilty. The guilt was followed by your trying in every possible way to apologize, until the teacher would make an effort to say quite loudly that they were so disappointed in you; in turn insuring that everyone in the class now knew that you had not completed your homework.
Oh, and god forbid your phone rang in the middle of class. The teacher would look at you beadily, glide over to your seat, stick...