Mr. Blades, the new teacher, was delighted with the composition we wrote about Sandra Street. He read some aloud to the class. He seemed particularly pleased when he read what was written by one of the boys from the other side of the town.

“Sandra Street is dull and uninteresting,” the boy wrote. “For one half of its length, there are a few houses and a private school (which we go to) but the other half is nothing but a wilderness of a big trees.” Mr. Blades smiled from the corners of his mouth and looked at those of us who belonged to Sandra Street. “In fact,” the boy wrote, “it is the only street in our town that has big trees, and I do not think it is a part of our town at all because it is so far and so different from our other streets.”

The boy went on to speak of the gay attractions on the  other side of the town, some of which, he said, Sandra Street could never dream to have. In his street, for instance, there was the savannah where they played football and cricket, but the boys of Sandra Street had to play their cricket in the road. And to the amusement of Mr. Blades, who also came from the other side of the town, he described Sandra Street as a silly little girl who ran away to the bushes to hide herself. Everyone laughed except the few of us from Sandra Street, and I knew what was going to happen when school was dismissed, although Mr. Blades said it was all a joke and in fact Sandra Streetwas very fine. I did not know whether he meant this or not, for he seemed very much amused and I felt this was because he came from the other side of the town. He read out a few more of the compositions. Some of them said very nice things about Sandra Street but those were the ones written by ourselves. Mr. Blades seemed delighted about these, too, and I felt he was trying to appease us when he said that they showed up a new character of the beauty of Sandra Street. There were only a few of us who were appeased, though, and he noticed this and said all right, next Tuesday we will write about the other side of the town. This brought fiendish laughter from some of us from Sandra Street, and judging from the looks on the faces of those from the other side of the town, I knew what would happen next Tuesday, too, when school was dismissed. And I felt that whatever happened it was not going to make any difference to our side or to the other side of the town.

Yet the boy’s composition was very truthful. Sandra Street was so different from the other street beyond. Indeed, it came from the very quiet fringes and ran straight up to the forests. As it left the town there were a few houses and shops along it, and then the school, and after that there were not many more houses, and the big trees started from there till the road trailed off to the river that bordered the forests. During the day all was very quiet except perhaps for the voice of one neighbor calling to another, and if some evenings brought excitement to the schoolyard, these did very little to disturb the calmness of Sandra Street. Nor did the steel-band gently humming from the other side of the town. I had to remember the steel-band because although I liked to hear it, I had to put into my composition that it was very bad. We had no steel-bands in Sandra Street, and I thought I could say this was because we were decent, cultured folk and did not like the horrible noises of steel-bands.

I sat in class recalling the boy’s composition again. Outside the window I could see the women coming out of the shops. They hardly passed each other without stopping to talk and this made me laugh. For that was exactly what the boy had written-that they could not pass without stopping to talk, as if they had something to talk about. I wondered what they talked about. I did not know. What I did know was that they never seemed to leave Sandra Street to go into town. Maybe they were independent of the town. I chuckled, a triumphant little chuckle because this, too, would be good to put into my composition next Tuesday. 

Dreamingly I gazed out of the window. I noticed how Sandra Street stood away from the profusion of houses. Indeed, it did not seem to belong to the town at all. It stood off, not proudly, but sadly, like one desiring peace and rest. I felt all filled-up inside. Not because of the town in the distance, but of this strange little road. It was funny, the things the boy had written. He had written in anger what I thought of now in joy. He had spoken of the pleasures and palaces on the other side of the town. He had said why they were his home sweet home. As I looked at Sandra Street, I , too, knew why it was my home sweet home. It was dull and uninteresting to him but it meant so much to me. It was-

“Oh” I started, as the hand rested on my shoulder.

“It’s recess,” said Mr. Blades.

“O-yes, Sir” The class was surging out to the playground. I did not seem to have heard a sound before.

Mr. Blades looked at me and smiled. “What are you thinking of?” he said. He seemed to be looking inside me. Inside my very mind. I stammered out a few words which even if they were clear would not have meant anything. I stopped. He was still smiling quietly at me. “You are the boy from Sandra Street?” he said.

“Yes, Sir.”

“I thought so,” he said.

What happened the following Tuesday after school was a lot worse than what had ever happened before, and it was a mystery how the neighbors did not complain or Mr. Blades did not get to hear of it. We turned out to school the next morning as if all had been peaceful, and truly there was no sign of the battle save the little bruises which were easy to explain away.

We kept getting compositions to write. Mr. Blades was always anxious to judge what we wrote but none gave him as much delight as those we had written on Sandra Street. He had said that he knew the other side of the town very well and no one could fool him about that, but if any boy wrote anything about Sandra Street he would have to see. And when he had said that he had looked at me and I was very embarrassed. I had turned my eyes away, and he had said that when the mango season came he would see the boy who did not speak the truth about Sandra Street.

Since that day I was very shy of Mr. Blades and whenever I saw him walking towards me I turned in another direction. At such times there would always be a faint smile at the corners of his mouth. I stood looking out of the school window one day thinking about this and about the compositions when again I felt a light touch and jumped.

“Looking out?” Mr. Blades said.

“Yes, Sir.”

He stood there over me and I did not know if he was looking down at me or looking outside, and presently he spoke.

“Hot, eh?”

“Yes,” I said.

He moved in beside me and we both stood there looking out of the window. It was just about noon and the sun was blazing down on Sandra Street. The houses stood there tall and almost somber and there seemed to be no movement about save for the fowls lying in the shadows of the houses. As I watched this, a certain sadness came over me and I looked over the houses across to the hills. Suddenly my heart leaped and I turned to Mr. Blades, but I changed my mind and did not speak. He had hardly noticed that I looked up at him. I saw his face looking sad as his eyes wandered about the houses. I felt self- conscious as he looked at the houses for they were no longer new and the paint had been washed off by the rain and they had not been re- painted. Then, too, there were no gates and no fences around them as there were in the town, and sometimes with a great flurry a hen would scamper from under one house to another leaving dust behind in the hot sun. 

I looked at Mr. Blades. He was smiling faintly. He saw me looking at him.

“Fowls,” he said.

“There are no gates,” I apologized.

“No, there are no gates.” And he laughed softly to himself.

“Because…” I had to stop. I didn’t know why there were no gates.

“Because you did not notice that before.”

“I noticed that before,” I said.

Looking sharply at me he raised his brows and said slowly, “You noticed that before. Did you put that in your composition? You are the boy from

Sandra Street, are you not?”

“There are more from Sandra Street…”

“Did you notice the cedar grove at the pot?” he went on, “You spoke of the steel-band at the other side of the town; did you speak of the river? Did you notice the hills?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?” His voice grew sterner and more arid. His eyes seemed burning up from within.

“You noticed all this and you wrote about Sandra Street without mentioning it, eh? How many marks did you make?” “Forty-five.” He looked surprised. “I gave you forty-five for writing about steel-band noises and the dirty trams of the town? Look!” he pointed, “Do you see?”

“Mango blossoms,” I said, feeling to cry out. “I wanted to show it to you.”

“Did you write about it?”

“No.” I just wanted to break out and run away from him. He bent down to me. His face looked harder now, though kind, but I could see there was a fury inside him.

“There is something like observation, Steve,” he said. “Observation. You live in Sandra Street. Yet Kenneth writes a composition on your own place better than you.”

“He said Sandra Street was soppy,” I cried.

“Of course he said it was soppy. It was to his purpose. He comes from the other side of the town. What has he got to write on? Gaudy houses with gates like prisons around them? High walls cramping the imagination? The milling crowd with faces impersonal as stone hurrying on buses, hurrying off trams. Could he write about that? He said Sandra Street was soppy. Did you prove it wasn’t so? Where is your school and his, for instance?”

I was a little alarmed. Funny how I did not think of that point before. “Here,”

I said. “In Sandra Street.”

“Did you mention that?”

Mercifully, as he was talking, the school bell sounded. The fowls, startled, ran out into the hot sun across the road. The dust rose, and above the dust, above the houses, the yellow of the mango blossom caught my eye.

“The bell, Sir.”

“Yes, the bell’s gone. What is it, Geography?”

“Yes, Sir.” And as I turned away he was still standing looking out into the rad.

It was long before any such thing happened again. Though often when it was dry and hot, I stood at the window looking out. I watched the freedom of the fowls between the tall houses, and sometimes the women talked to each other through the windows and smiled. I noticed, too, the hills which were now streaked with the blossoms of the poui, and exultantly I wondered how many people observed this and knew it was a sign of the rains. None of the mango blossoms could be seen now, for they had already turned into fruit, and I knew how profuse they were because I had been to the hills.

I chuckled to myself. There is something like observation, Steve. And how I

wished Mr. Blades would come to the window again so I could tell him what lay among the mango trees in the hills. I knew that he was not angry with me. I realized that he was never angry with any boy because of the district the boy came from. We grew to like him, for he was very cheerful, though mostly he seemed dreamy and thoughtful. That is, except at composition time. He really came to life then. His eyes would gleam as he read our compositions and whenever he came to a word he did not like he would frown and say any boy was a sissy to use that word. And if a composition pleased him he would praise the boy and be especially cheerful with him, and the boy would be proud and the rest of us would be jealous and hate him. I was often jealous. Mr. Blades had a passion for compositions, and I was anxious to please him to make up for that day at the window. I was anxious to show him how much I observed and often I noted new things and put them into my compositions. And whenever I said something wonderful, I knew it because of the way Mr. Blades would look at me, and sometimes I thought he would talk to me aside. But many weeks ran out before we spoke at the window again. I did not start this time because I was expecting him. I had been watching him from the corners of my eyes.

“The sun’s coming out again,” he said. 

“It’s cloudy,” I said.

The rains had almost ceased but there were still great patches of dark cloud in the sky. When the wind blew they moved slowly and clumsily, but if the sun was free of one cloud there would be another. The sun was shining brightly now, although there was still a slight drizzle of rain, and I could smell the steam rising from the hot pitch and from the galvanized roofs.

“Rain falling, sun shining,” Mr. Blades said. And I remembered what they said about that and I smiled and when Mr. Blades pressed me to tell him I laughed and would not say. Then thoughtfully he said, “You think they’re all right?”

“What, Sir?”

“In the immortelle root.” 

I was astonished. I put my hands to my mouth. How did he know?

He smiled down at me. “You won’t be able to jump over now!” And the whole thing was revealed. I could not help laughing. I had put into my composition how I went into the hills last Sunday evening and how the mango trees were laden with small mangoes, some full, and how there were banana trees among the immortelles and poui. I had spoken too about the bunch of green bananas I had hidden to ripen in the immortelle roots and how afterwards I had jumped across the river to the other bank. 

“They’re all right” I said, and pretended to be watching the steam rising from the hot pitch. “I like bananas,” said Mr. Blades. I was sure that he licked his lips as he looked towards the hills. I was touched. I felt at one with him. I liked bananas too. It always made me lick my lips. I thought now of the whole bunch which must be yellow by now between the immortelle roots.

“Sir…” I said to him, and I hesitated. Then I took the wild chance. And when he answered, a feeling of extreme happiness swept over me.

I remember that evening as turning out bright, almost blinding. The winds had pushed away the heavy clouds and the only evidence of the rains were the little puddles along Sandra Street. I remember the hills as being strange in an enchanted sort of way, and I felt the enchantment came mainly from Mr. Blades being with me. We watched the leaves of the cocoa gleaming with the moisture of the rains, and Mr. Blades confessed he never thought there was so much cocoa in the hills. We watched the cyp, too, profuse between the laden mango trees, and the redness of their rain-picked flowers was the redness of blood.

We came to the immortelle tree where I had hidden the bananas. I watched to see if Mr. Blades licked his lips but he did not. He was not even watching. “Sir,” I said in happy surprise, after removing the covering of trash from the bunch. Mr. Blades was gazing across the trees. I raised my eyes. Not far below, Sandra Street swept by, bathed in light. “The bananas, Sir,” I said.

“Bananas?” he cried despairingly. “Bananas are all you see around you, Steve!”

I was puzzled. I thought it was what we had come to the hills for. “Good Heavens!” he said with bitterness, “To think you instead of Kenneth should belong to Sandra Street.”

Understanding and appreciating the story

1. What impression do you get of Mr. Blades at the beginning of the story?
2. What features of Sandra Street does the boy from the other side of the town highlight in his composition?
3. What shows that Mr. Blades enjoys reading this composition?
4. In your opinion, does Mr. Blades respond to this composition the way he does because he is from the other side of the town? Explain.
5. How do those from Sandra Street react to this composition? How do those from the other side react?
6. Does Mr. Blade’s efforts to appease those from Sandra Street succeed?

Explain.

• Make notes on the narrator’s own observations about Sandra Street. On what aspects does the narrator agree with what his classmate had written about Sandra Street? On which details do they differ?
• From whose  point of view is this story told? Is this effective in the narration of the story?
• Due to the setting of this story, you may come across phrases or words that do not conform to the British English system. For instance, “… I said, feeling to cry out.” Pick out other similar instances and discuss why they are used that way.
• Beginning with this sentence from the story “The sun was shining brightly now, although there was a slight drizzle of rain…,” write a composition.

SUGGESTED ANSWERS

 The provided text is an excerpt from the short story “Sandra Street” by Michael Anthony. The story revolves around a new teacher, Mr. Blades, who reads compositions written by his students about Sandra Street, a street in their town. One particular boy from the other side of town writes a composition that highlights Sandra Street as dull and uninteresting, comparing it unfavorably to his own side of town. Mr. Blades seems pleased with this composition and reads it aloud to the class, which creates tension between the students from Sandra Street and those from the other side.

1. At the beginning of the story, Mr. Blades is portrayed as a delighted and cheerful teacher who is enthusiastic about reading his students’ compositions. He is new to the school and takes a special interest in the composition about Sandra Street.
2. The boy from the other side of the town highlights that Sandra Street is dull, uninteresting, and located far away from the attractions on the other side of town. He mentions the presence of big trees, which makes Sandra Street different from the rest of the town.
3. Mr. Blades enjoys reading the composition by the boy from the other side of town because he smiles and seems particularly pleased when reading it aloud to the class. He finds amusement in the boy’s comparison of Sandra Street to a silly little girl who runs away to hide in the bushes.
4. It is suggested that Mr. Blades responds the way he does to the composition because he also comes from the other side of town. His amusement could be due to his familiarity with the places mentioned in the composition. However, the story does not explicitly state his motives, leaving it open to interpretation.
5. The students from Sandra Street do not react positively to the composition, feeling offended and hurt by the negative portrayal of their neighborhood. On the other hand, the students from the other side of town find the composition funny and laugh along with Mr. Blades.
6. Mr. Blades’ efforts to appease those from Sandra Street through positive feedback on their compositions do not entirely succeed. While he praises their works and tries to highlight the beauty of Sandra Street, some of the students from Sandra Street remain unappeased due to the hurt caused by the initial composition from the other boy.
7. The narrator, who is from Sandra Street, provides his own observations about the street. He agrees with some aspects of what his classmate wrote, such as the presence of big trees and the lack of certain attractions present on the other side of town. However, he also adds his personal feelings about Sandra Street, realizing that he appreciates and finds beauty in its uniqueness, despite its differences from the other side of town.
8. The story is told from the first-person point of view, through the eyes of the narrator who is a student in Mr. Blades’ class. This perspective is effective in conveying the emotions, thoughts, and observations of the narrator, as he grapples with his own understanding of his neighborhood and the impact of the composition from the other boy.
9. The use of phrases or words that may not conform to British English could be due to the story’s setting, which seems to be in a region with its own distinct dialect or cultural language. The phrases add authenticity to the portrayal of the characters and the environment they inhabit.
10. “The sun was shining brightly now, although there was a slight drizzle of rain…” In this composition, the narrator could continue describing Sandra Street, highlighting its unique features and reflecting on the significance of observation and appreciation for one’s surroundings. He might explore how his perceptions of Sandra Street have changed over time, and how he now values the place he calls home despite its differences from other parts of the town. The composition could emphasize the beauty and quiet charm of Sandra Street and how it holds a special place in the narrator’s heart.

Discussion questions

1. Does Mr. Blades succeed in teaching the narrator about the power of observation? 
2. Examine the use of description in the story and comment on its effectiveness.
3. How does this story dramatize the value of the natural environment?

1.Yes, Mr. Blades succeeds in teaching the narrator about the power of observation. Through his guidance and encouragement, Mr. Blades helps the narrator develop a deeper appreciation for his surroundings and the ability to observe and appreciate the beauty and uniqueness of Sandra Street and the natural environment. Initially, the narrator’s compositions about Sandra Street lacked the depth and insight needed to truly understand and appreciate the place he lived in. However, with Mr. Blades’ guidance, the narrator starts to notice and observe details he hadn’t paid attention to before, such as the absence of gates, the mango blossoms, and the hidden bananas in the immortelle roots. This transformation shows that Mr. Blades successfully instilled the value of observation and attentive awareness in the narrator.

The story effectively uses description to create a vivid and atmospheric setting. Through detailed descriptions, the readers can visualize Sandra Street, the surrounding hills, and the natural elements, like the mango blossoms and immortelle roots. The author paints a contrast between Sandra Street and the other side of the town, showing how the former may seem dull and uninteresting to some but holds its own unique charm. The use of descriptive language helps readers understand the emotions and perceptions of the narrator and the impact of Mr. Blades’ guidance on the narrator’s observations. The descriptions also evoke a sense of nostalgia and attachment to one’s homeland, making the story relatable to readers who may have similar experiences.

2.The story dramatizes the value of the natural environment by highlighting its significance in shaping one’s sense of belonging and identity. Sandra Street is portrayed as a place that may not have the grandeur and modern attractions of the other side of the town, but it holds its own beauty and quiet charm. The mango blossoms, the immortelle roots, the hills, and the cocoa trees all play important roles in the story, symbolizing the connection between the narrator and his home. Through his newfound ability to observe and appreciate the natural surroundings, the narrator discovers a deeper connection to his environment and gains a sense of pride and attachment to Sandra Street. The story suggests that a deeper understanding and appreciation of nature can lead to a stronger sense of belonging and a greater appreciation for one’s roots.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

1.  At the beginning of the story, Mr. Blades appears to be a new and delighted teacher who takes an interest in his students’ compositions. He seems pleased and amused when reading the composition written by the boy from the other side of the town.
2. The boy from the other side of the town highlights the following features of Sandra Street in his composition:
   • Half of Sandra Street is a wilderness of big trees, making it different from the other streets in the town.
   • The street lacks the attractions and amenities present on the other side of the town, such as a savannah for playing football and cricket.
   • The boys of Sandra Street have to play cricket on the road, whereas the other side has better playing areas.
   • Sandra Street is described as a silly little girl running away to the bushes to hide herself, indicating a lack of confidence or importance.
3. Mr. Blades enjoys reading this composition, as evident from the fact that he smiles and seems particularly pleased when reading what the boy from the other side of the town wrote. He also finds humor in the description of Sandra Street as a “silly little girl” and reads it aloud, making others laugh.
4. It is not explicitly stated that Mr. Blades responds to the composition the way he does because he is from the other side of the town. However, it can be inferred that he may find the composition amusing and resonate with certain aspects because he comes from the same area as the boy who wrote it. The composition may remind him of his own experiences or observations growing up in a similar environment.
5. Those from Sandra Street react differently to the composition. While some of them are not amused and know what may happen when school is dismissed, Mr. Blades tries to assure them that it was all a joke and that Sandra Street is fine. On the other hand, those from the other side of the town, including Mr. Blades, find humor in the composition and laugh, possibly because it is a satirical take on Sandra Street.
6. Mr. Blades’ efforts to appease those from Sandra Street do not seem to entirely succeed. While he compliments the compositions written by the students from Sandra Street and tries to emphasize their unique beauty, only a few of the students are appeased. There remains a sense of tension and possibly resentment between the students from both sides of the town.
7. The narrator’s own observations about Sandra Street highlight the following aspects:
   • Sandra Street is different from the other streets in the town, particularly with its abundance of big trees and quieter atmosphere.
   • The people of Sandra Street seem to have their own unique way of socializing, with women stopping to talk to each other without passing each other by.
   • The narrator observes Sandra Street with a sense of pride and belonging, appreciating its subtle charms and uniqueness.
   • However, unlike the boy’s composition, the narrator seems to notice and appreciate the beauty of the place, including the mango blossoms, the hills, and the freedom of fowls between the houses.
8. The story is told from the first-person point of view, as it is narrated by one of the students from Sandra Street. This perspective is effective as it allows the readers to experience the emotions and thoughts of the narrator directly, providing a more personal and intimate connection with the events and themes of the story.
9. Yes, there are instances of phrases or words that do not conform to the British English system, indicating the use of a regional or local dialect. For example, “feeling to cry out” is not a typical expression in standard English, but it reflects the narrator’s way of speaking influenced by the local dialect or culture.
10. Beginning with the sentence “The sun was shining brightly now, although there was a slight drizzle of rain…,” you could write a composition about a memorable day in your neighborhood or town. Describe the weather, the activities of the people, and the overall atmosphere. Include personal observations and reflections, just like the narrator in the story. You can also discuss the unique features and characteristics of your area and how it holds a special place in your heart.

SSAStudy guide Sandra Street

By
 Michael Anthony

1. Setting

The story is set in a suburb street called Sandra. It is no ordinary street. It houses a residential area, a school and it leads into a forested hill. Sandra Street maintains a somewhat natural environment: there are no fences or gates, a few houses, a small population and its people live in harmony. Neighbouring residential areas are a little way off.

• Plot

We are introduced to Steve, the narrator; Mr. Blades, his new teacher who is a nature lover and Sandra Street. We learn about the natural environment of Sandra Street through a composition by Kenneth, a boy from the other side of town. His story leads t a conflict between boys from the other side of the town and those from Sandra Street. The Sandra Street boys feel that their town has been described negatively.

Mr. Blades reads a few more stories, some of which say very nice things about Sandra Street. His delight at these did not appease most of the boys from Sandra Street. In a desperate attempt to calm them, he asks the class to write a composition on the other side of town. This only fuels the conflict between the boys.

However, the narrator does an objective assessment of Kenneth‟s composition and finds that it was a truthful description of Sandra Street. He even begins to appreciate its beauty. He is so caught up in his reflections he does not realise the break bell has gone. It takes Mr. Blades to bring him back to the present.

The following Tuesday the boys fight again as a result of what they wrote about the other side of town. More compositions are written on other subjects yet Sandra Street did not go away. Mr. Blades, who is new to Sandra Street, is waiting for the mango season to find out whether the boys had given an accurate description of Sandra Street during that season. What is more, Mr. Blades takes an interest in Steven‟s writing.

The two of them appear at the window several times looking out at Sandra Street. With every discussion they have at the window, Steven‟s observation ability grows so does this love of nature. His interest in nature takes him to the hills where he explores the river, mango and banana groves and even gets to put away green bananas in the

„immortelle‟ roots to ripen.

In his last encounter with Mr. Blades at the window, Steven invites him to the hills to inspect his bananas. At the hills, Mr. Blades, who had thought the trip was a nature trail walk, is disappointed that Steven only focuses on the ripening bananas and not the view of Sandra Street the hill affords them.

• Conflict

1. The main conflict revolves around Mr. Blades and Steven. Mr. Blades is a nature lover. He sees in Steven a similar spirit which is however latent. There is

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an uneasy relationship in which the master trains the pupil to appreciate his environment. The challenge is in showing Steve the beauty of his environment without telling him what stands out as beautiful. So it is a journey in which Steven awakens to the beauty that is his environment with Mr. Blades as his hands-off guide.

NB: This journey is made up of a series of conflicts between Blades and Steven. Identify all of them. b) Kenneth‟s work and Steven

This is one in the series of conflicts mentioned in (a) above. However it stands out because it runs through the entire story. Mr. Blades contrasts Kenneth‟s writing with that of Steve. Kenneth seems to have well developed observation powers‟ Steve does not. It is Kenneth‟s composition on Sandra Street that Mr. Blades uses to arouse Steven‟s passion for nature. Although it is unprofessional, Mr. Blades uses Kenneth‟s work to criticize Steven‟s (pp 103,106).

• Further, conflict develops between the boys from Sandra Street and those from the other side of town. Each writes disparagingly about the other‟s residential area resulting in two bruising battles. What is the import of these fights? Steven gives us the answer. “He had written in anger what I thought of now in joy” pp 99. Each of these pupils has a latent love of the environment in them. It however is not well directed. Mr. Blades tries to direct

Steven‟s love of nature and remove the juvenile jealousy and hatred he possesses.

• Steven experiences internal conflict.

1. First, although he likes to hear the steel band (they do not have one in Sandra Street) he puts it in his composition to disparage the other side of town he describes its sound as horrible (pp98).

1. As Steven begins to appreciate the beauty of Sandra Street, it also fills him with a sense of sadness. He says that certain sadness came over him as he looked over the houses across to the hills (pp 100).

1. Steven writes in his compositions about his experiences at the hills but hopes that Mr. Blades will not see the reality in it. He wonders how Mr. Blades had found out about the bananas; he put out to ripen in the roots of the „immortelle‟

(pp104-105).

e) Mr. Blades suffers internal conflict

His dilemma is how to make the pupils appreciate Sandra

Streets‟ beauty without telling them what is beautiful. Thus, when/he reads Kenneth‟s work class and appreciates it, he is misunderstood by the boys from Sandra Street. His attempts to placate them by reading stories that said nice things about Sandra Street fall through. Instead of telling them what to look out for, he gives them an assignment to write about the other side of town. His teaching style is allowing learners to discover. He makes a compromise by guiding one.