FIVE
I love the school I work at, and I was incredibly lucky enough to get a job working in the English School Board system even if the number of kids being enrolled is dwindling year after year. It’s fine.
I’m perfectly bilingual, and I’m not opposed to getting up and leaving Montreal behind if there are more lucrative opportunities in Toronto or basically anywhere in Canada, but this is home; parts of me live on in different places across the city, across the island.
It would hurt to leave, but I would if I had to.
I glance around my class, a group of twenty-five kids. My giant board of birthdays hangs on the classroom door, including even the kids who were born outside of the school year (like me)—I always want to do something for them so they can celebrate with their classmates at
