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It was just a Thursday morning after first period, and yet already, whispers were circulating around the school. This isn't really any surprise, but when your friend practically zooms at the speed of sound towards you at top speed after class, you know that it has to be something interesting.
"You have Mr. Ahmed next period, right?" The words spill from their lips in nearly a second flat, and you blink to process the words coming from their mouth.
... What?
"Good morning to you, too," you state blandly, frowning slightly. "And I'm doing fine, thank you."
"C'mon, you know what I mean," they laugh. "And anyway, that's a yes, right?"
"... Yes. And what of it?"
"Okay," was all they said before they pushed you towards the classroom from which they just came. "Go, and I think you'll see exactly what I'm thinking about."
You yelp. "But--"
"Nope! Go, now. I promise you that it's worth it."
Your friend disappears out of sight and you just squint. Well, you're not really surprised at this point, but you might as well humor them.
Passing by a few groups of people, you finally slip into the classroom. Looks like you're here early, since no one else is here yet, except Mr. Ahmed himself. From the corner of the room, organizing some books, he looks up and just nods at you.
You give him a small wave and slip into your seat.
You start to look around, but try not to make it too obvious. He's not looking at you, but it's better to be safe than sorry. You glance over the desks, the walls, the ground, but...
Everything looks the same as it did yesterday, so you're not quite sure what the big fuss is all about.
So far, nothing seems out of place. You start to think that maybe your friend just makes a big deal out of the littlest things. You glance back to the trash can. Nope. Pretty sure that's stayed the same too, but it wouldn't surprise you if they spotted a shiny new garbage can and decided that it was newsworthy enough.
That's when you spot the shiny object on Mr. Ahmed's desk, out of the corner of your eye.
While Mr. Ahmed is still in the corner of the room, you stand up and inch over to his desk. Sure enough, he has a new nameplate on his desk, all shiny and obviously newly bought.
You're not sure why anyone would need to buy a new nameplate. He had one yesterday and it was working just fine, besides the fact that this one is obviously shinier. You crouch and get closer to it, trying to see what's different.
On it, you read:
Zak "Skeppy" Ahmed
he/him
Okay, that's not that...
Wait.
He/him pronouns?
"Oh, hey. You need something?" Mr. Ahmed comes out of nowhere, and if you weren't used to playing scary video games at night with your best friends, you would have jumped. But you don't. Instead, you stand up, glancing up at him.
"No, not really, just looking at, um..." You glance down at the desk.
Uh...
"You know," you say, helpfully.
Mr. Ahmed follows your line of sight. He then laughs awkwardly as he sees what you're looking at.
"Oh, that. Yeah, I have a new nameplate. People seem to be really interested in it."
"Well, it--" Shit. "Uh, it looks nice?"
Mr. Ahmed gives you an amused look.
"My... uh..." He scratches behind his neck, then laughs. "My partner got it for me. It was really nice... uhm, really nice of them."
Now, if this was a video, the words "SEEMS SUS" would be plastered on neon on the screen, shining in all the colors of the rainbow. But, unfortunately, this isn't a video, and all you do is try your best not to gawk at your teacher as he stands there sheepishly trying to explain away the sudden... change.
Pronouns? Your brain thinks. Is he-- is your teacher, uh, just-- wait, I'm just staring, now this is just awkward, oh no--
"I just thought it'd be nice," he shrugs. "I don't know much about... a lot," he admits, though you find that doubtful, given that he's a high school teacher, of all things.
"There's a few things that I might not know, and a few of those things I'll never understand, no matter how much I try." Mr. Ahmed frowns slightly. "But that's okay. As long as I try my best to understand, then that's all that I need to do. I just need to keep an open mind, an open ear, and an open heart, to make sure that I provide a welcoming environment to all my students, and really, everyone in my life."
You nod. Mr. Ahmed's a nice teacher, and well-beloved among the students. It's no surprise to you that he thinks that way.
Really, you wish that more teachers thought like he did.
Well... in some aspects, at least.
"Anyway, better sit down for history class." Mr. Ahmed clears his throat. "Today, we're going through the World War I curriculum, and so, we're going to be simulating trench warfare in real-time, in this room."
... Ah.
You stifle a laugh and go back to your seat. As the other students trickle in, you notice a few people looking at the nameplate.
You think you spy a glance of someone nervously asking Mr. Ahmed if they could talk to him privately. And as they have a conversation in the break room, you find yourself glancing back on occasion with a warm feeling in your heart.
Then you find yourself pelted with a wad of lined paper and you decide that the other side of the classroom is going down.
You graduate two years later, but you hear through the grapevine that he changes his nameplate again a few years after your graduation.
... And his last name.