I usually get to work early, about forty-five minutes before the students arrive, so the hallways are deserted, quiet, and weirdly illuminated as the sunrise slowly filters through the classroom windows. My walk in includes one short hall, one medium hall, and then the supremely long hall. My footsteps echo in the cavernous area ... click ... click ... click ...
It's the Perp Walk. Yup, the Perp Walk, complete with cameras and the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Don't (or do) go reading any significant symbolism into this. I am not (really) comparing the job to prison. However, once those main doors close behind me, once the bell rings, I am held prisoners by the schedule, unable to scoot to the bathroom or have a cup of tea or grab a snack or breathe.
Maybe it really is the Perp Walk, which brings me to my next conundrum: Should I wear stripes or an orange jumpsuit tomorrow? After all, if one is going to do the Perp Walk, one should dress the part. N'est-ce pas?
