Day 21: Excluded

Dedicated to: Erin Pilon

The walls are painted a shade of green so vibrant it gives you a headache within minutes. It was probably chosen because it’s not gender specific, so everyone can be equally offended by it, and perhaps because it will take around a decade to fade to a level of acceptability before they need to be done again. Other than that, the tiny library has barely changed in thirty years – the same set of Encyclopaedias is lined haphazardly among battered copies of To Kill a Mockingbird. Swallows and Amazons has been replaced by Harry Potter in the ‘Reading for Pleasure’ section, the self-study desks now have laptops chained to them and there are some, frankly awful, self-portraits in the style of Andy Warhol along one wall.

There’s Jenny’s painting though; you can tell it’s her, she’s ever so talented. Just like her dad, except he never applied himself. Jim smiles to himself – to think how many times he was sat here, the apologetic father, facing a row of governors because Miles was in trouble again. There was one time, after Miles had turned on all the gas taps in a chemistry lab, when Jim said he would never set foot in this building again. Yet here he is – chair of governors, Jenny’s portrait outshining all the other ones by a country mile. If he couldn’t be a smug father, he’s certainly a very smug grandfather. And Miles turned out well in the end – he was a good lad really, just energetic. All that experience on the other side of the table is what makes Jim such a fair governor when it comes to this matters like this.

The Principal’s EA (who might be called Affie, something funny like that anyway; once upon a time they were all called Linda or Cath and they were secretaries) only emailed out the papers yesterday and he hasn’t had time to read them. A hard copy was thrust unceremoniously at him as he signed in, stapled unevenly, and crumpled like it had got jammed in the printer. (Not something a Linda would do, thinks Jim. A Linda would have stapled them perfectly and posted them to him a week ago.) He flicks through and sees the word ‘pen-knife’ and rolls his eyes. In his day, all boys had a pocket knife, though he faintly remembers getting some letter home about them not being allowed anymore when Miles was at school. He returns his attention to the portraits. With the exception of Jenny’s, they really are pretty awful. The unnaturalness of the style and lack of skill in its application make it difficult to determine what colour the artists really are. The names probably give a clue, but the font is too small to be readable to anybody over the age of 19.

 Two more governors arrive, that’s good – they’re quorum and can get on with it. Last time someone gave their apologies at the last minute and they had to postpone the whole thing. Janine is a giant of a woman – at least 5’10 and nearly as wide as she is tall. Everything about her, from her voice to her jewellery to her hair is larger than it needs to be. Luckily Jim can see past that; he knows she’s a sensible woman and she means well. The other governor, David, is lanky and pale – young to be a father, especially to teenagers; to be frank he still looks like one. Jim wasn’t sure about him at first. About five years ago, David barely saw his son, then he started going to some Saturday thing called ‘Lads n’ Dads’ and now he’s on every committee under the sun and coaching half the sports teams. He even wrote about it in his governor application! Not something most people would admit you’d think, but it won him enough votes and his ‘lad’ Craig is certainly a nice chap – good athlete and Jenny likes him. David proffers a hand – for one so lithe, it’s surprisingly big, darkened by the sun, strong with paint under the fingernails. He’s a good man, Jim decides. Proof people can change (a bit like Miles.)

The clerk arrives, smiling a little too brightly for the occasion. She’s young, posh and awkward. Probably went to an all-girls school with a proper library and always looks a bit out of place in this one. She’s tanned, possibly mixed race, but with a name like ‘Mia’ how can you tell? Writes good minutes though. She’s followed by a man Jim doesn’t know – maybe he’s a new teacher? Tall with strong features and a well ironed shirt (so probably not a teacher). Before anyone asks, he introduces himself.

‘I’m Marek, I’m going to be translating today.’ 

Translator? Jim looks back down at his papers and starts to read them properly for the first time.  

Orpington High

Permanent Exclusion Hearing – Justyn Przybyla

Must be Polish with a name like that, thinks Jim. Might have known – there were lots of them in these parts, working on the docks a lot of them, while their wives opened up Polski Skleps on every corner. Mostly they sold cans of Coke for half the price and stuff in tins with long, unpronounceable names. Jenny said the bread was nice. She’d been on about doing Polish classes next year. What’s wrong with French, Jim had asked? She was good at that and if she changed now, she’d forget everything she’d learnt. Anyway, language was for travelling – they ought to be learning English if they’re travelling here, not the other way round. Jim wonders how long Justyn and his family have been here, probably a short time if they still need a translator. Then he remembers they’re here because boy carries a knife and shudders.

‘Are you Polish?’ he asks Marek.

‘Half and half; I was born here but my mother is Polish.’

‘Must be lovely to grow up with a skill like that – speaking two languages’ says Mia, smiling too much again. Janine sighs loudly and Jim catches her eye.

Luckily, before Mia says anything too inane, two more people walk in – a boy, Justyn presumably, and a woman, who must be his mother. They look like any other mother and son. She’s small and neat, with big eyes. She wears tight jeans and has her hair in a ponytail. He’s already around four inches taller than her, probably more but he’s not standing up straight. They have the same fair colouring and small features, but where the mother looks open and outward, the son frowns and won’t look at anyone. 

‘Hello’ she says. ‘I’m Kamila.’ Justyn sits, or rather thumps, down into the nearest chair and stares at the table. She turns sharply to him and says something fast and guttural. 

Jim looks at Marek. ‘What’s she saying?’

‘Just to say hello to everyone and not to sit down until he’s asked.’

‘Oh nobody else asked either!’ says Mia, missing the point again, and smiling at Kamila. Not her usual, kids’ TV presenter smile, but a small one. What’s that all about? Maybe they’ve met before – perhaps Kamila’s got other kids who have been excluded and Mia minuted those hearings too. 

‘I was worried we were going to be late. I didn’t finish work until 6 O’Clock’ says Kamila, so she does know some English. 

‘And do you, er, do you know what’s going on?’ asks Jim. He turns to Marek. ‘Maybe you could tell her.’

‘I know why we’re here. And he does too.’ Kamila says quickly, gesturing to Justyn, who still hasn’t said anything. ‘Don’t you?’ He shrugs.  ‘He can speak English. He just won’t try. He tried more before we came here than he does now.’

The principal, Ms. Edwards, enters before Jim can finish his thought about how much the translator costs. She’s a small woman, close to sixty. Jim remembers her as a young English teacher when Miles was at school. She was nice-looking in her youth, although she was fierce even then. Now she looks like Mrs. Overall in a trouser suit. Still, in spite of her small stature, the students respect her – even Miles did all those years ago.

‘Hello all. I know I’m late, couldn’t get rid of someone on the phone. Anyway, I’m here now. Jim – I assume you’re chairing?’

‘Yes – I assumed so too.’

‘OK. All right if I just start things off? Give a bit of background?’

‘Perhaps we should go round the table first.’

‘Of course. Sorry. Assumed you’d done that.’

After everyone has introduced themselves (except Justyn, who allowed his mother to do the honours), Mrs. Edwards begins.

‘So, we’re because last week on the 12^th of January, I took the decision to exclude Justyn, with immediate effect, from Orpington High. The choice to exclude a pupil is never one which is taken lightly. We’re here now, seeking ratification from our governors for this decision. If it’s decided that the exclusion was fair and compliant with our school’s disciplinary policy, the exclusion will remain permanent and Justyn will not return to this school. We will of course work with the local authority to help Justyn find another school as soon as possible and to enable a smooth transition for him. If the Board feel that the exclusion was not reasonable and did not comply with the policy, Justyn may return to school tomorrow morning, without prejudice.’

Everyone, including Mia, has heard all of this before, so quite why she’s scribbling away so furiously is anyone’s guess. The rest of the table sits in silence as Marek turns to Kamila and Justyn and translates everything into a low string of consonants, even though apparently neither of them have any need for it. Jim catches David looking at his watch and supresses an urge to do the same.

‘Thank you Ms. Edwards. Perhaps you could tell us what happened and why you decided to exclude Justyn.’

‘Like I said, exclusion is never something we take lightly. Justyn has had some… challenges adjusting to life here… at this school. And we’ve been aware of that. He’s been supported to interact more with his peers. I know he’s made friends with some of the other boys, especially…’

She’s cut off by a noise from Justyn.

‘Sorry – what was that?’

‘I think the boy should wait his turn.’

Marek relays this message and Justyn puts his head in his hands. His mother tries to pull them from his face and begins to speak. 

‘I’m sorry, he…’

‘I think we should let Ms. Edwards finish.’

‘Like I said, Justyn did have some difficulties at first. When he came here, he was reluctant to try to speak English and he became isolated. So we tried to support him to integrate. Marek works for us full-time, to support our Polish families, and we assigned him as a mentor, and Justyn seemed to be making friends. He even tried out for football. We were very pleased with his progress and we still are. I didn’t want to exclude him because he will have to start from scratch at another school, but under the circumstances I had no choice.’

‘What were those circumstances?’ asks David.

‘I’m getting to that. Like I said, I had no choice. Justyn was brought to me by his English teacher, Mr. Phelps. He, Mr. Phelps, explained to me that he’d had to search Justyn’s bag because of an incident in class.’

‘Incident?’
‘He’d taken a girls’ pencil case. But that’s obviously not grounds for exclusion. No, while searching Justyn’s bag, Mr. Phelps found a Swiss Army knife.’

At the word knife, Janine shakes her head slightly and breathes out slowly through her nostrils. David scratches his ear nervously. There would be silence, but Marek is hurriedly translating this all to the woman who speaks English anyway and the boy who was there at the time. Ms. Edwards watches until he has finished before continuing.

‘I had no choice but to exclude him with immediate effect. Our safeguarding policy clearly states that offensive weapons are not allowed on school grounds and we exercise zero tolerance. And our disciplinary policy says that any student caught in possession of a weapon that could cause harm to staff or other students will be excluded straight away, pending investigation.’


She’s right of course – Jim was in the meeting when the updated policies were ratified; he signed them off as chair and it’s there in black and white. This shouldn’t take too long. Jim looks down at his agenda. 

During the hearing, both sides shall be given the opportunity to speak.

Of course now it’s time to let the boy explain.

‘Thank you Ms. Edwards for that summary.  Now, er…’ He looks directly at Marek.

‘Speak to Justyn. I will translate.’

“Yes. Of course. So, Justyn. What – do you have to say for yourself?”

Justyn grunts.

‘He’s sorry’ says Kamila, leaving Marek entirely redundant. 

David interjects. ‘I think er, I think we should ask Justyn exactly what happened that day from his perspective. And er, why he had the knife.’

‘Of course, of course. I was getting to that. Perhaps you would like to.’

‘So Ms. Edwards has just told us what happened from her point of view and why she suspended you. Is that right? You had your bag searched for a pencil case and there was a knife?’

It takes several seconds of translation to obtain a one-word answer: ‘yes’.

‘What about the pencil case? Had you taken that?’

Justyn shakes his head. Janine asks ‘why do you think the girl thought you had?’

Justyn continues to stare at the table but answers, through Marek, that he took another girls’ pencil case the week before, but he’d given it back when she got upset. It’s not really relevant, but Janine did ask. Jim brings them back to the point in question.

‘Of course that’s not why we’re here. We’re here because you had a knife in your bag, not about a pencil case, and you have already said you were carrying it. Correct?’

Again, Justyn agrees. 

‘It’s your knife?’

Kamila answers for him: ‘it’s my boyfriend’s – he gave it to Justyn.’

‘And did you know he had it?’

Kamila nods. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t think, I didn’t know it was such a big problem. I…’

‘Do you have these policies? Did the school send them to you?’

Ms. Edwards interjects: ‘they’re on Moodle.’

‘Yes of course, Moodle. You know how to log into that Mrs, er, Przybyla?’

‘I didn’t read all of the policies.’

He turns again to Mrs. Edwards – ‘are they there in Polish or only English?’

‘Parents can request translations.’

‘I see, so you knew Justyn had a knife, but you hadn’t read the policies, so you thought it was fine?’

Kamila waves away Marek, who is starting to translate. ‘No, I. I know it’s wrong to carry a weapon, but... it was so silly, I didn’t see it that way. It’s more er, a toolbox. That’s right – I can say “toolbox”?’

‘Yes. Yes you can. Why, um, why does Justyn need a toolbox at school?’

‘Perhaps we should ask Justyn’ says David. 

‘Of course, of course. Justyn, why do you need to bring tools, in the form of a pen-knife, to school?’

Justyn looks up at last, and shrugs his shoulders. 

‘Did you understand?’

Marek translates for Justyn. At last the boy speaks for more than five seconds and begins to explain himself. As he speaks, Marek relays what he is saying awkwardly, half-sentence by half-sentence, like an ITV News translator.  

‘It’s for my bike. I ride it to school and I have to fix it every day. The pen-knife works well for this.’

‘Why does he – sorry – why do you have to fix your bike every day?’ 

‘Because they’re undoing it. The screws. They’re undoing the small screws. It’s not safe to ride it.’

‘Who is? Is this happening here at school?’

Justyn answers in English, ‘yes.’

‘Did you know about this Ms. Edwards?’

‘No – of course I, if I had… this is very serious Justyn. Who’s doing this?’

Justyn mumbles something in Polish.

‘Just some boys,’ Marek translates. ‘It’s not very serious. They just don’t like me but I don’t care. They…’ He sighs. ‘They are idiots… actually Justyn didn’t exactly say “idiots” ’

‘We get the picture. Justyn – you should have told somebody.’ 

Justyn has gone silent again. Jim turns to Kamila. ‘You knew about this and didn’t contact the school?’

‘He told my boyfriend, not me. I wanted to call when I found out. Those boys they…’

She trails off. Justyn says something which sounds like it could mean ‘no’.

‘Go on.’

‘They are why he won’t try and use English. He won’t try anything. I try at home but no – only Polish’ 

Well that says it all, thinks Jim. 

‘Why only Polish?’

‘Ask him. Ask him what they say.’

Marek begins to translate and the same news-item style response comes.

‘When I speak English, it’s bad. It makes them feel bad for their country. I am a dirty Polish boy and I should go home.’

Kamila wipes a tear from her eye. Mia looks like she might cry too. They really should hire someone more professional. Ms. Edwards speaks.

‘Why didn’t you contact the school?’

‘Justyn didn’t want me to call. He said I always make everything worse. And my boyfriend said not to – that it was OK, he showed Justyn how to fix the bike and if he stayed quiet the... the nicknaming would stop.’

‘So instead you let Justyn bring a knife to school?’

‘I didn’t want to. I told him to never take it out at school. Just to fix his bike.’

‘So you knew he shouldn’t have it?’

‘I know boys are stupid.’

David interrupts them. ‘I think we understand why Justyn had the knife now. Justyn, mate, you er, you were never going to use the blade of the knife were you? You never would have used it to fight?’ 

As the reply comes, Kamila lifts her eyes to the ceiling and mutters something. Marek hesitates before speaking.

‘I have had the knife for ages and I fight with them nearly every day. If I wanted to use it I already would have.’

Janine gasps. Jim motions to David not to ask any more questions. They’ve heard enough. 

‘Right well. I think. I think that’s everything. Ms. Edwards, do you have anything to add?’

‘No.’

‘Well at this point the governors usually discuss the case in private, during which time the conversation isn’t minuted. So if you can all step outside, we’ll call you back soon.’

As Mia, Kamila, Justyn, Ms. Edwards and Marek all file out of the room, Janine taps her watch and mouths ‘five minutes’ at Jim. He nods, this shouldn’t take long.

Janine is first to speak. ‘Well it’s obvious isn’t it?’

‘I think so’ says David.

‘Black and white. Nasty business though, very nasty when it’s this outcome.’

David looks surprised, ‘what you mean?’

‘Well he can’t possibly stay in school.’

‘The lad’s being bullied!’

Janine looks deliberately at Jim. They’ve been governors longer than David. He lets her explain:

‘If we let one back in after this, we set a precedent. What if we let him back in and then next week someone else brings a knife in?’

‘We’re punishing him for a misunderstanding. And the other boys will get off scott-free.’

‘Now now, nobody is saying that’ says Jim. ‘I’m sure they’ll be punished appropriately. I know it’s unpleasant, and it probably was a misunderstanding. Our rules here might be a bit… modern for some cultures to get used to.’ He chuckles, ‘they’re even a bit modern for an old man like me! But these days here we don’t bring knives to school.’

Janine nods in agreement, ‘we can’t risk it. He said himself he fights with them every day. It could only be a matter of time. I’ve got two kids at this school and as a mother I’d be very uncomfortable if I thought the governing body was in any way sanctioning bringing weapons to school. As governors, we always have to think about all the students at this school, not just the one in front of us. This is about safety.’

She’s right of course, about thinking of the other kids. That’s why it’s good to have a woman at these things, especially a sensible one like Janine. She taps her watch again, reminding Jim to take a decision.

‘So, we’re agreed?’

‘Well I’m outnumbered aren’t I?’

‘Yes David, I’m afraid you are. I know the system can seem harsh at times, but we have to stick to it, like Janine said. It’ll be better for the lad anyway, fresh start, away from all the teasing, he might start speaking English!’

‘Yes, this school clearly didn’t suit him. He’ll be happier at another one.’

‘If he can find another one.’

‘The school will help with that. It’s settled. Shame it’s not unanimous but it can’t always be. Janine, perhaps you could bring them back in.’

‘I’ve actually got to leave about ten minutes ago.’

‘Got dinner to put on have you?’

‘Yes, hubby’s useless!’

‘Don’t worry – you go, just send them in on your way out. David, are you alright to stay?’

‘Sure.’

‘Don’t worry – I’ll deliver the news. Bye Janine, and thanks as always.’

‘Bye, have a nice night.’

Janine gathers her coat and bag and walks out the door. Jim sighs as he hears the footsteps in the corridor, signalling the others’ imminent return; this is the worst part of being Chair, but he looks again at Jenny’s portrait and knows they’ve made the right choice.

Words: 3620