The Days of the Week that Didn’t Have NamesI remember one day at school we were chosen at random to recite something the teacher asked. I was pointed to and came and stood in front of the class feeling quietly confident.
Mrs Gledhill asked me to- "Name the days of the week".
"Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday".
Silence.
Mrs. Gledhill looked at me "And?".
And? And what?
“You're wrong. Sit down and think about it.”
I sat down, but think about what?
It took me some while to realise that I hadn’t actually been wrong- I had been honest. The weekend in my world didn’t come with names. It came as two days off school, playing outdoors, freedom, a day out for a picnic, steam train rides, a space between Friday and Monday.
My week ended on Friday because school life did.
That moment taught me something deeper than calendars. It showed me that knowing is shaped by experience, not just instruction. And that sometimes, when someone gives an answer we don’t expect, we should ask where that answer came from, not just why it’s incomplete or wrong.