Class 10B hadnt had a permanent English literature teacher for months. One had gone on maternity leave; another quit after just four weeks. When Miss Eleanor Whitmore walked inyoung, composed, neatly dressedthe students exchanged glances. “Another one. She wont last long.”
The first lesson began with an immediate test of her patience.
“Right, open your exercise books,” she started.
But the class had other plans.
“We didnt bring them!” someone shouted from the back, sparking laughter.
“Maybe introduce yourself first before you start teaching?” another sneered.
“Of course. Miss Whitmore,” she replied calmly. “Now”
“Miss Whitelies!” a girl jeered from the corner.
“Smells like a charity shop, and those glasses look straight out of the 80s!” The laughter grew louder.
Someone played a clip of a donkey braying on their phone. The class erupted. As she turned to write on the board, a paper aeroplane hit her squarely in the back.
She turned around slowly.
“Gonna cry and run off like the last one?” a boy muttered, just loud enough for her to hear.
Another yawned theatrically and dropped their textbook. The rest followedbooks thudded, chairs screeched, and one student openly scrolled through TikTok.
Then, without warning, Miss Whitmore perched on the edge of her desk and spoke, her voice quiet but clear. The room fell still.
“I wasnt always a teacher. A year ago, I worked in a teen oncology ward. Patients your age. Some just hoped to live long enough for prom. Books, poems, even small talkit all mattered to them.”
“A boy, 17. Osteosarcoma. We read *Pride and Prejudice* together because hed lost his voice.”
The class quietened slightly.
“He clutched that book even when his hands barely worked. He told me, ‘I wish Id cared about books before. Now Id give anything just to sit in a normal lesson. No IV drips. Just a classroom.'”
The air grew heavier.
“A girl in the next bed dreamed of going to school. Just to sit where you are now. Youre all living their dream, yet you act like the world owes you something.”
“I wont beg or scold. I know the cost of this. If you want to learn it tookeep going.”
She straightened the pile of books on her desk, adjusted her glasses, and opened the register. Not another sound was made for the rest of the lesson.
From that day on, no one mocked hernot behind her back, not to her face.
