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A student in front of me yawned, stretched backwards, gently refolded her arms and lay her head down. I didn't think my delivery was that boring and the others in the class seemed to be focussed. She was seated at the back so I left it. I was quite used to letting some students take a kip during Period One as most of them would have been up at 3am to put in a few hours asparagus picking (or similar) before school, but this wasn't one of those students.

Later, when the class was engaged in a written task, I went and sat beside her, gave her a wee nudge and asked, "What's wrong, love?"

"I'm so tired, Miss," she replied.

"Tell me about it," I persuaded.

Turns out there had been little food in the house for a couple of days (solo mum with two young teenagers and three under seven). At 12am Mum had roused the lot of them out of bed and had walked them several blocks to a 24 hour BP Station where she accessed the benefit that had just dropped into her account. She bought them all fizzy drinks and pies and then walked them all home again. She had probably spent most of her benefit on that meal alone meaning that a carefully managed and nutritious menu for the rest of the week would be out of the question. How can someone in that deep a hole of financial depression ever break the cycle?

I suggested to the lass that she might like to take her jersey off and use it as a pillow to make herself a little more comfortable. She gratefully complied and nodded back off to sleep.

A student in front of me yawned, stretched backwards, gently refolded her arms and lay her head down.   I didn’t think my delivery was that boring and the others in the class seemed to be focussed.   She was seated at the back so I left it.   I was quite used to letting some students take a kip during Period One as most of them would have been up at 3am to put in a few hours asparagus picking (or similar) before school, but this wasn't of those students.

Later, when the class was engaged in a written task, I went and sat beside her, gave her a wee nudge and asked, “What’s wrong, love?”

“I’m so tired, Miss,” she replied.

“Tell me about it,” I persuaded.

Turns out there had been little food in the house for a couple of days (solo mum with two young teenagers and three under seven).   At 12am Mum had roused the lot of them out of bed and had walked them several blocks to a 24 hour BP Station where she accessed the benefit that had just dropped into her account.   She bought them all fizzy drinks and pies and then walked them all home again.   She had probably spent most of her benefit on that meal alone meaning that a carefully managed and nutritious menu for the rest of the week would be out of the question.   How can someone in that deep a hole of financial depression ever break the cycle?

I suggested to the lass that she might like to take her jersey off and use it as a pillow to make herself a little more comfortable.   She gratefully complied and nodded back off to sleep.

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