Today's word is: Communism!

               The children all filed in one by one. The room had been laid out into each individual desk, all facing inward toward a bowl of sweets, which were all the same size. Graham stood at the back of the room and waited for his class to file in.

               “What’re we doing?” Toby, a very short ginger boy missing all of his front teeth, asked.

               “Today we’re going to learn about different societies and how they share, or don’t.” The children all looked at each other, and then around the room. Half of them were already staring at the bowl of sweets in the middle.

               “I want everyone to take a seat. Girls on the green seats, boys on the blue ones. Quickly.” He was doing his best to sound authoritative but it just came out a little pleading. Already the class troublemaker, Neil, was complaining.

               “This is stupid-..”

               But before he could keep going, Graham held a hat out to him filled with ‘jobs’. “You can go first then.” Neil looked at Graham warily and sat on a blue seat. Tentatively, he put a hand into the hat. One could hear a pin drop in the silence.

               “Policeman.” The boy read out, wiping his mop of unruly hair from his eyes. “Does this mean I’m in charge, Mr Daggerly?”

               Graham turned around to Mr Daggerly, who was taking notes in one corner. “I don’t know, Neil. Why not ask your teacher?”

               The kid’s face ranged through several emotions. All eyes were on Graham, suddenly, and he could feel them burning into him.

               “Well… err... yes-.. No!” He shook his head, before walking into the centre of the room and picking up the bowl of sweets. “Who knows what “communism” is? Has anyone heard that word before?”

               No response. Emma and Brad were doodling on each other’s books, while Toby was now looking at the ceiling. The class was getting restless, the plan falling apart. But slowly, a hand rose.

               “Isn’t it where everyone gets paid the same for doing different things ‘cause every job is meant to be worth the same?” It was Neil. Graham raised an eyebrow, eyeing the lad speculatively. For weeks, Neil hadn't spoken so much as a whisper to him unless he wasn't supposed to. It’d been a nightmare, but why had he changed his mind so quickly?

               Graham cleared his throat. “That’s more or less correct.” He offered the bowl to Neil, who seemed perplexed, before picking out an orange chew. “Can I have it now?”

               Chuckling, the prospective teacher nodded.

               “This week, everyone’s going to be assigned different roles. Because we’re pretending to be a communist state, if you do your job, whatever it may be, you will be ‘paid’ for you efforts.”   And like that, the attention had been drawn back. Mr Daggerly made a long note and smiled, rising up from his chair with a grunt.

               “I’m sure you can take it from here, Mr Westerk.”