Ria Writing Class Classroom Rules

Ria’s classroom rules define her writing class as a place where students can speak and create without having to apologise for taking up space. They combine simple expectations—honesty, consideration, trying things, and not behaving cruelly—with a more personal insistence that students have a right to be heard. The rules shape the class’s atmosphere and later give Gideon a practical way to approach writing without revising himself into silence.

The Class as a Place to Exhale

Gideon describes Ria’s class as an escape from the strain of continually holding his breath: there is no pressure or “bullshit,” and the expectations are to be honest, considerate of others, willing to give things a go, and not act like a dick. The classes include ordinary conversation about students’ hair, relationships, and a podcast, alongside writing exercises. That mixture makes the room feel social as well as creative: students are not required to make every contribution solemn or polished before it belongs there.

The approach is reflected in a picture-based exercise in which students choose images on the floor as prompts. Gideon selects a photograph of a trampoline and writes about a girl lying underneath it, feeling the adrenaline as a friend jumps above her. Issy reads the poem aloud; afterward, she checks whether it was okay, and Gideon nods. The episode gives the class’s expectations a concrete form: students try the exercise, share the result, and respond to one another without the scene becoming a test of technical perfection. Gideon’s description of the class as somewhere the world could learn from follows from this contrast between its permissive atmosphere and the pressure he otherwise feels.

Honesty, Consideration, and Participation

Ria’s rules are not an absence of standards. Students are expected to be honest and considerate, to make an effort, and not to act like a dick. The boundaries hold together freedom of expression and responsibility toward other people: the class is welcoming, but it is not a licence to disregard anyone else. Ria’s brisk, humorous manner makes the expectations memorable without turning them into a formal lecture.

Her response to Gideon’s apologies gives the rules a sharper purpose. Ria tells him that the only occasions requiring an apology are offending someone or physically hurting them. Andy adds farting to the list, making the class laugh; Ria accepts the joke and confirms the limited set of exceptions. The humour keeps the exchange communal, but Ria then directs the question back to Gideon to make sure he has understood. Her rule is therefore both practical and corrective: apology belongs to harm done, not to the mere fact of speaking or being present.

Claiming the Right to Speak

Ria’s most emphatic lesson is that Gideon need not apologise for being on the planet. She tells him that he has a right to be there, that what he has to say is valid, and that the class wants to hear it. Her paired injunctions to own his art and own his existence connect creative confidence to a more basic permission to occupy space. The students’ excited response, and Ria’s mime of dropping a microphone, turn the declaration into a shared moment rather than a private reprimand.

That lesson becomes useful beyond the classroom. When Gideon receives a letter from Ava and tries to write back, he fears overthinking the task and becoming caught in his tendency to obsess over what he writes. He recalls Ria’s instruction not to justify what students write or make, as well as her warning against beginning another sentence with “sorry.” He then gives himself thirty minutes, puts whatever he writes into an addressed and stamped envelope, and signs the letter when the timer rings. The rules do not remove his anxiety, but they provide a method for acting despite it: write, stop revising, and let the work stand.

Function and Significance

Ria’s expectations operate at two related levels. The shared rules establish how students treat one another; the lesson about apology addresses Gideon’s tendency to treat his own presence and expression as something that needs excusing. Because the class combines everyday conversation, experimental writing, laughter, and clear limits, its support is shown through repeated practice rather than abstract reassurance alone.

The rules also connect the classroom to Gideon’s correspondence with Ava. What begins as guidance for participating in Ria’s class becomes a discipline for sending an imperfect letter without endlessly altering it. In that movement, the class’s central principle is made practical: a person’s words do not have to be flawless to deserve a place in the world.