Every Friday afternoon, our teacher Mrs. Chen would push the desks to the walls and arrange the chairs in a big circle. It was our class meeting time, and everyone had a chance to speak. I always tried to sit in the same spot, third from the left, because from there I could see the clock and the window. But one Friday, I was late coming back from the library, and when I walked into the room, all the chairs were taken except one. It was the last chair in the circle, right next to Mrs. Chen's desk. I felt my cheeks go warm as I walked over and sat down.

Sitting in that chair felt strange. Usually I was hidden in the middle of the circle, but now I was right at the front. I could see everyone's faces, and they could see me. When Mrs. Chen asked who wanted to share something, I looked down at my shoes. But then my friend Mia raised her hand and talked about her dog getting lost. After she finished, Mrs. Chen looked at me and said, 'James, would you like to share something?' My heart started beating fast. I shook my head, but she smiled and said, 'That's okay. You can just listen.'

For the next ten minutes, I listened more carefully than I ever had before. I heard Lily talk about her grandmother's visit, and Tom describe the model rocket he was building. I noticed how some kids spoke loudly and clearly, while others mumbled and looked at the floor. I realised that everyone had something to say, and that the circle made us all equal. Even the quietest voice got a turn. I started to feel less nervous. The last chair wasn't a bad spot after all; it was just different.

Usually I was hidden in the middle of the circle, but now I was right at the front.

When the bell rang, I stood up slowly. Mrs. Chen came over and said, 'You did well today, James. Sometimes being in a new spot helps us see things differently.' I nodded, because she was right. I had seen my classmates in a new way. I had heard stories I usually missed because I was too busy worrying about my own turn. Walking out to the playground, I thought about how one small change could make such a big difference.

Now, whenever I see an empty chair, I remember that Friday. I don't try to hide in the middle anymore. Sometimes I even choose a different seat on purpose, just to see what I might notice. That last chair taught me that being uncomfortable can be a good thing. It pushed me to listen, to watch, and to understand that every person in the circle has a story worth hearing. And sometimes, the best view comes from the edge.