The author is a teacher. Joe Baron is a pseudonym.
11am
‘F**k off!’ he shouts. John is typical of many of our kids: stunted, undernourished and utterly feral.
‘Come here, please,’ I reply, consciously controlling the tone of my voice. Tone is so important. I want it to exude authority, but not anger, even though I am feeling pretty annoyed. I look back sensing another, menacing presence. Ben, a short, portly year 7 pupil with crooked teeth approaches. He walks with purpose. He is clearly disheveled, upset and, dare I say it,seething with anger.
John runs towards the main building, away from me and his larger pursuer, deploying his full arsenal of expletives as he goes. ‘F**k off, you c**t! Your mum sucks c**k! You fat f****r!’ Is he talking to me or Ben? It is difficult to discern; Ben and I are both on the large side.
For the time being, I postpone my indignation and concentrate on Ben. He appears to be the more immediate threat. ‘Stop there, Ben!’ I exclaim. ‘I’m gonna f****n’ kill ‘im,’ he shouts, red-faced and panting.
‘No you aren't, Ben,’ I reply, desperate to maintain a semblance of control. He continues to steam towards his nemesis. I have no choice but to restrain him. As I do, he turns his ire on me. ‘F**k off, you c**t!’ he shouts. ‘Let go, you t****r!’