This place is scary

The eyes stared up at me as I entered the room, the puzzled faces wondering who this new person is. I was the new guy, and I didn't fit in. I had completed my PGCE and the training to be a teacher, but nothing could prepare me for this. I was in an inner city school with kids with no manners or respect, and I felt like crying.

This was my classroom, or it was supposed to be. I had trained hard for this, and I wanted to be the best teacher and make a real difference. Then the throwing started. A pen thrown from one side of the room hit me on the head. The class roared with laughter. This was day one, not even five minutes in. The register was still to be taken.

After the battle to get the register done in relative quiet, with a group that refused to pay any attention at all to me, the lesson began. Or, well, it should have begun, there was no silence, no respect and no happiness. All my training and for what, to be insulted and made fun of. I went out that room at the end of the lesson. This place is scary I said