The Seat in the Front Corner

Quite recently, I have acquired enough confidence to sit in front of the classroom whether it be in a tutorial or in a lecture, only in the absence of air conditioning. Because of this, today I arrived in a certain class where this is constant and was surprised.

I was surprised to find my seat empty. I now deem it my seat because today proved that in that particular cohort of future English teachers, which is generally full to the extent where some students have to sit on the floor or place a spare chair on the side of a packed table, the seat where I normally sit was waiting for me. It was as though I was the Moses of the classroom, parting rows of students to get to my long-awaited chair, situated in the perfect position of the classroom where the computer is accessible considering I am my teacher's personal technician, and situated at an acute angle from the main board, allowing a pleasurable viewing experience.

It came as a shock to me. I normally arrive fifteen minutes early in order to reserve myself that seat, though I did not quite imagine that seat to be waiting for me in a packed room filled with students. Today, having been late for the first time, it came as a shock to my teacher, and I suppose it came as a shock to my peers. Nobody touched that chair. No, it is not because I have some form of germ that descends from my rear and spreads all over the chair, I think it is because my memory is to be preserved in hopes of my return, as uncanny as that sounds. The entire thing was uncanny. 

I suppose it is a good thing to have a reserved seat. It made me feel somewhat superior, that my presence is expected and that I am worthy of a seat and table space. Three girls were seated on the floor at the back, before I had arrived. Why had not one of them taken the seat I normally sit at? I wonder now, had I been terribly sick and not attended, would everyone in the room simply stay out of my chair? Have I unknowingly claimed ownership over it? Is my teacher that frightening that people prefer to hide on the floor at the back of the room? 

I like that chair now, more than ever. I like that space, that acute position, that technician position. I like that it is recognised as an area for myself, that without being told, people respect that area in respect of me. This happening is similar to that of my contemporary fiction lecture experience. The first lecture had all the students sitting on the corner chairs, none of which willing to let others pass into the middle seating areas because their things were sprawled all over the little tables that fold out in front of them. So, instead of asking, the people that came in later on began to sit on the floor besides those seated. It was not until the lecturer told the people seated on the corners to move towards the middle, that they did. Anyway, I occupied a spare table and chair on the stage and that is where I have been seated for the past six lectures. It is probably now officially my spot, too. Every week that I attend, that spare desk and chair await me. My lecturer strokes my hand as she asks me questions to ensure my comfort, and I am very sure that because I was absent from that lecture today, it was felt.

Perhaps my lecturers even respect me as much as I respect them. I acknowledge them as human beings. One lecturer was away for a week. When he returned, I was the only one to ask him if everything was okay, and it was not - his father had passed away. He smiled at me after he had answered, respecting that I had taken the liberty to ask him about himself. He is, after all a human being, and as am I, and he has a voice and opinions which I take into account for my opinions and future voice projection during my lectures, as I am an aspiring lecturer. This sense of respect, though, should be passed around from every student to every teacher, vice versa. It is a level of respect that goes without saying. We are all humans, we all have purposes.

Now, when I sit on chairs and use tables that are invisibly labeled as 'mine', I will smile and sink into the chair and sink into the feeling that I too am respected, and that my presence is felt. It is an important thing to feel seeing as we are all temporary beings.