On Report
Biology was my preferred discipline of the sciences. Mr Chohan was a young, newly graduated Biology teacher, but he had learned quickly how to hold his own in front of an aged classroom white board. He batted off the nicknames tested upon him like a battle hardened detention dealer. Chohan the Barbarian, and The Big Cho, were the prominent ones. The latter came after the WWEwrestler, The Big Show. He even got his own chant when he entered the classroom with that one.
A few months into his tenure at Moorside High School, defined by OFSTED as a special measures educational institution, The BigCho, self-airmed by his own theme music and cult status, decided to push the boundaries of personal expression, namely by growing a pair of large, Elvis-esque, sideburns.
To anybody that has been to a school in special measures, demonstrations of personal expression weren’t encouraged. Standing out was only acceptable if you were standing outside a classroom as a reward, or punishment, for being too disruptive.
After making his entrance to fond, semi aggressive chants of “welllll, it’s the Big Cho,” following lunch, and after introducing the topic of mitochondria, which I had little energy for, whispers began to circulate on the back benches, like a session in Parliament, regarding Mr Chohan’s extravagant fashion statement.
“What’s IS he thinkin’” asked Gabriel Chambers? “He looks like fuckin’ Elvis” scoffedSam Dunleavy.
The whispers evolved into murmurs, and the emboldened Big Cho sought to choke slam the internal mumblings at the rear of the room.
“What’s the whispering back there, Williams, stop distracting the others.”
I felt it unfair to be the one who took the formal addressing from this badly sheared biologist, and, armoured with sideburn shaped artillery, fired back;
“Well, Sir, it’s those sideburns we were discussing. Gab reckons you’ve got a weekend job as an Elvis impersonator. Sir.”
The Big Cho tried to hide his wince. Exposed for a moment in the theatre of pubescent maliciousness, and trying to hold front as the cool,
fresh-outta-college-totally-not-a- geek, teacher, he came back instantly. “You’re only jealous you can’t grow any, yet, now keep itshut.”
Chest inflated, he revelled in the whoas and the laughter his come back produced across the room. His victory in battle was returnedwith a declaration of war from an army of acne ridden rebels.
“Have you got any pets, sir?” John Higgins asked. “Yes, in fact I…”
“I bet it’s a hound dog, innit.”
The laughter grew and The Big Cho smirked, but the smirk was a nervous one. The cogs in his head, visible through the thin film of sweat developing, whirled for a quick reply. But he was too slow.
“Have you been to America, sir?” Asked Laura Drinkwater. “No, Laura, I’ve…”
“Was it Vivaaa Las Vegas,” she managed to blurt out, between her own laughing fits, as the girls got in on the action.
The Big Cho flashed red. He was losing the war. He couldn’t be seen to be weak. He couldn’t let his reputation be submitted or counted out.
“Right enough’s enough, we need to get on!” he blustered, not wanting to go nuclear, though raising the tone of assertiveness in his voice
“But how can we go on,” drawled David Taylor, “with suspicious minds.”
The classroom erupted. The Big Cho turned a crimson dusk. He was on the ropes. Over confidence had conspired to bring him down.The crowd were baying for a finishing move. He knew he had flown too close to the dinner bell with the sideburns. He had to stamp authority on the room. Now.
“Right! That’s enough!.”
He delivered a tombstone silence with his bellow. His eyes scanned hurriedly assessing the impact. He was back in control. Hehad to maintain it.
“The next person who makes an Elvis joke is out, and they’re going on report.”
Nobody’s lips moved. He had upped the stakes. Report meant reporting to Kirk, the head of year. And nobody wanted that. Yet myhead was buzzed. I held the steel chair on my tongue. The KO finishing special. I couldn’t let the joke slip. It tickled my brain andtongue. My lips spread thin trying to suppress the killer line.
“Now, Williams, I believe we were discussing mitochondria, is that correct?”
How could I miss? He stood in the middle of the room like The Big Show himself, swaying and tired, staggered to his feet, unaware thatStone Cold Steve Austin, The Texas Rattlesnake, lurked behind him, ready to deliver a trademark Stunner.
“Uh huh.”
Outside the classroom, as he sent me packing to Kirk’s office, I caught him trying to hold back a grin.
Flight of the dragonfly 