Pim Wangtechawat: The Art of Education
Photo: Joanna C. Valente
The Art of Education
(1)
teacher’s day is on january sixteenth:
we crawl on our knees up to the stage where
the misses and misters are waiting.
they gave us these - what do you call them in English?
pedestal trays? ceremonial trays? flower trays? - to carry.
incense sticks lit?
yup.
hands together?
wai as one
and bow.
a song is playing.
(the song that always plays
at these ceremonies.)
someone is crying.
perhaps a teacher. perhaps a student.
but, honestly, who the hell cares anymore
at this point? (it is all just for show.)
(2)
ways for teachers to make students stop talking in class:
genuine authority (rare)
shouting
using the switch
breaking down crying
picking up the blackboard eraser, pitching your hand back and
throwing it -
branding one of the student’s cheeks
with a slab of chalk stains
(3)
miss is thin as a ruler.
shriveled up as a fig.
and she forces us to meditate
before every class:
breathe in and out, she says
in and out
in and out.
I am not spiritual, she insists.
not spiritual at all, but spirit-filled.
here. let me show you.
i’ll make this pen move
with just my mind.
she holds a hand over the pen
closes her eyes
breathes (in, out, in, out, in, out)
trembles
and lets out a tremendous burp.
we break out into laughter.
that’s just the spirits! she quickly says
those powerful spirits in me
talking and manifesting themselves, child.
but what about the pen, miss?
why hasn't it moved?
she blushes.
well, the pen has no soul, she explains
that’s why it’s so very hard
to make it budge.
(4)
morning assembly (eight am):
we stand in line
for inspection.
fingers on scalps.
fingers that pull.
what kind of length
do you call this?
pah!
and extensions, too?
highlights?
pah!
where are the scissors?
razors?
yank
yank
cut
cut
cut
bzzzzzzzzzz!
now let this be a lesson!
next time
remember to wear your hair
the right way.
that’s what school rules are for.
(5)
the new p.e. teacher from england
is movie-star gorgeous
(it is the first time we’ve ever had a teacher
who is movie-star gorgeous):
young, blond, fit with
these beautiful blue eyes, this
irresistible swag
when he walks.
the curriculum requires him to teach us darts.
what a waste, everyone whispers, ogling
of the man’s strong limbs and hot physique.
every girl (and boy) in the school is in love with him.
one afternoon you are in the library, reading Harry Potter
and he walks in, sees the book, and tells you in passing
oh, aren’t these books amazing?
the films
don’t compare at all.
he doesn’t ask you for your name
but you nod, laugh, agree, small talk
plaster a smile on your face - a coy smile you believe
interesting girls put on to mesmerize boys.
you imagine: this is it!!!
the two of you will fall in love (for real).
he’ll come to learn
that you can speak english better
than all these other girls mooning after him
and eventually he’ll come to see
that those girls don’t compare at all.
you’ll take a picture to commemorate the occasion:
his arm draped around your shoulder
he looking at you like
you’re the most beautiful girl
he’s ever seen.
you’ll be the coolest couple ever.
a proper fairy tale.
but two months later
he is gone.
the scandal spreads everywhere:
he got the prettiest thai teacher in the school pregnant
and they’ll be getting married
very soon.
you glimpse them one last time
(as they come in separately
for their things)
he with that irresistible walk
and she with one hand
on her protruding belly.
everyone agrees:
this has been
such an i-n-d-e-c-e-n-t affair.
(6)
you raise your hand in class to answer a question.
good lord! miss cries out
in front of EVERYONE
when was the last time
you washed your hair, girl?
why is it so greasy
and so disgusting?
you’re numb. simply numb.
i wash my hair everyday, miss, you lie.
everyday, miss. truly.
the whole class (including miss) sniggers.
and the sound shatters
everything.
please…may i be excuse?
miss waves her hand and you run
to the bathroom, stick your head under the tab
and let the water flow, flow, flow, flow.
don’t you dare go back in there, screams the panic.
don’t you fucking dare.
(you wash your hair everyday after that.)
(7)
miss is plumb,
with plum lips, plum cheeks
large hips that sway when she heaves
in and out of chairs where she lounges
and bestows her commands.
we call her ursula
(after the octopus witch from the little mermaid)
because we think her cunning and plain
horrible.
one day
out of the blue
she tells us a story:
once upon a time there was this woman
who slept with way too many men.
she went to a shopping mall to use the bathroom
and a sperm left over in her vagina
got stuck to the toilet seat.
that’s how the woman who used the toilet after her
became pregnant.
girls
this is how easy it is
to get pregnant.
then
she snaps her finger and says: get out your textbooks.
it’s time we get started on
photosynthesis.
this is a science class, after all.
(you are afraid to use public toilets
for years after that.)
(8)
the. fuck?
Pim Wangtechawat is a tall, awkward writer from Bangkok, Thailand, who spends most of her time obsessing over and writing about cinema, television, pop-culture, literature and history. She is currently pursuing a Creative Writing MA in Edinburgh, Scotland. She is also a proud Gryffindor and a massive fan of Liverpool Football Club. You can follow her on Twitter at @PimsupaW or check out her blog at keeponthegrass.net.
