E.R. Braithwaite

So long as we learn it doesn__ matter who teaches us, does it?

Oh God, forgive me for the hateful thoughts, because I love them, these brutal, disarming bastards, I love them _

Today I was a teacher, employed. True, I was also a teacher untried, but that could also be an advantage. I would learn, by God I__ learn. Nothing was going to stop me.

It was like a disease, and these children whom I loved without caring about their skins or their backgrounds, they were tainted with the hateful virus which attacked their vision, distorting everything that was not white or English.

The betrayal I now felt was greater because it had been perpetrated with the greatest of charm and courtesy.

Instead, we try to give them affection, confidence and guidance, more or less in that order, because experience has shown us that those are their most immediate needs.