The E Word

The E Word Transcript

The first year I taught at the Istanbul International Community School, my classroom was on the second floor in what had most likely been the master bedroom. West facing windows overlooked the stone paved street winding up to Etiler. To the south were Rumeli Hisari and beyond that the Bosphorus Strait.

The playground was in a walled garden, with shady trees, hidden from view. There were swings, a tether ball, a climbing frame, and places to explore. Like schools everywhere, teachers shared recess duty.

One day, a little kid who wasn’t in my class, came over to tell on somebody.

“Teacher, he called me the E word.”

I knew that if I didn’t ask, I would never be able to tell the story. And the E word sounded like a story worth telling.

Later, I just remember thinking, “So, not only do our students call each other names, but also, they can’t spell.”

I asked.

“What is the E word?”

He didn’t hesitate, “Idiot!”