Late for Class.

I heard the school bell ring. Chemistry's over. Time for Moral.

No time to lose, then.

From the Chemistry lab back to the classroom, it's three minutes' walk, or half a minute's mad dash.

I won't be late for class.

Last Monday, after Chemistry, I returned to the class for Moral at a casual pace. When I got to the class, only a few other classmates were already back. Most of the students were still in the lab, asking Chemistry questions, or goofing off. When our Moral Teacher got to class, she was really upset.

Our Moral Teacher is a very dedicated and experienced teacher. She genuinely cares for the class, and treats the 25 students as a sort of family. She always puts in a lot of effort to teach us Moral, by photocopying exercises for us, giving us tips, and everything. But when so many students are late for class like that, it seems to her as if they're not interested in Moral, and that Chemistry is more interesting. It makes her feel like no one appreciates her hard work.

I appreciate you, Teacher. I won't be late for class.

From the Chemistry lab back to the classroom, it's three minutes' walk, or half a minute's mad dash.

I won't be late for class. I mustn't be late for class. I can't be late for class. Nothing can make me late for class now.

Wrong.

As I head up the stairs, I hear someone call my name. I stop. I turn around. It's the drama teacher. Since I'm the one who wrote the script the drama team will be using, she has to talk to me before she decides to make any changes. Without a doubt, I thought, that's exactly what she wants now.

Do I really have time for that? I mustn't be late for class.

But our school is well-known for their drama team, if nothing else. Our school puts all their stock in drama. Drama is important.

Does its importance justify being late for class?

I don't know.

But I can't ignore the drama teacher now. I've got no choice but to at least listen to what she has to say.

"Jonathan, what subject do you have on now? Do you have time to talk?"
"Now is Moral, Teacher." ... a slight pause... "Yes, Teacher, I have a bit of time."

I'm sorry, Teacher, but drama is important. I still won't be late for class...

Ten minutes later, I walk out of the staff room after acknowledging a few changes made to the drama script. I look at my watch. Ten minutes! I'm really late!

Sprint across the badminton court. Run up the stairs, two steps at a time. Skid at the top, turn around the corner, run. Turn again, and up another flight of stairs. Classroom is just around the corner. Running out of breath. At the top of the stairs, I run into another student from my class, just returning from the lab. I realise that I just overtook several of my other classmates returning from the lab. Ten minutes late, and they're only now returning to class. They aren't even concerned about being late. Teacher...

Run to class, stop to knock on the door, walk quickly past Teacher, mutter a quick good-morning and apology, take my seat.

Late.

Teacher was very upset. She had gone through so much trouble for us during the weekend. She went to the library, did some research. Wrote everything down on a sheet of paper, photocopied it for us. She paid for the photocopying. She wasn't expecting to ask us to pay for it. She was very upset when she came to class, prepared to give us all the studying material, and found that only five students were in class on time. Everyone else was late. Late. Late for class.

Only five students were in class on time. And I wasn't one of them.

Teacher was very upset.

I'm sorry, Teacher. I won't be late for class again. Next week, I'll be in the class on time. Next week, I won't be late for class.

I promise.

***

I don't feel like saying anything today. Sorry. See you on Saturday, if time allows it.