I think everyone has one. At least, I certainly do, and everyone I've mentioned it to has one. You would be pretty unlucky not to have one.
What I'm wittering about, is that one particular mentor, guardian and guiding light of a teacher that you will always remember. That one educational hero that has had more influence on your life than even television. The third parent. The one who...well, you get the idea.
I was reminded of the value of a good teacher recently, when I had to spend some time in my local secondary school. My current employment, best described as community work with a local law enforcement bias, saw me required to give an input to 3rd and 4th year pupils introducing the concept of 'antisocial behaviour'. Truth be told this was a phenomenon with which they seemed to be perfectly well acquainted, so maybe I should say I was trying to convince them that antisocial behaviour was probably not a good idea after all. A radical concept for some, without a doubt.
I was aware that this experience might be difficult, some even warned me not to to do it for my own personal safety. But still I was ill-prepared for the experience. As I walked through the door, I hit a wall. Not a physical wall obviously, but a metaphorical wall even sturdier than bricks and mortar. This was a solid construction of sheer bloody minded non-co-operation.
The teacher introduced me, along with my colleague who was even less prepared than I was.
"Now, you all know Kay and R, don't you"
There was a low murmur, which as far as I could tell, consisted of every single youth who knew me droning "No". Those few who didn't know me just stared.That was it. Absolutely no chance of anyone saying "Yes" as to do so would be to comply. God forbid.
This set the pattern for the rest of the lesson.
"Do you have a pen?"
"Yes"
"Good. Here's a worksheet for you"
10 minutes later...
"Have you finished?"
"No"
"You haven't even started. Why not?"
"Don't have a pen"
"You said you did?"
"I do. But it's at home. You *****"
etc. etc.
This was one of the more pleasant exchanges. If there was a way they could obstruct the lesson, they'd find it. They had two goals - one was to make any kind of education an impossibility, the other was to make their friends laugh. Usually achieving one meant also achieving the other by default. Occasionally the strength of will surged into out and out abuse. This was the teacher's cue to wade in with her arsenal of threats. This consisted of sending the offender to the office. Unless he refused. Then the deputy head teacher would be sent for.
"Fine, send for him. He's a ***** as well..."
Where this battle of wills (or rather won'ts) would end up I never quite established. But I was later told that out of the entire 4th year, there is not one single boy who has not been excluded or suspended this year.
Which brings me to my point. Teachers are heroes. How they can fight this battle every single day, and still manage to get through to the odd child here and there enough to change their life, is a triumph worth celebrating. As much as I would love to be a hero, I really think that's beyond me. Give me an 18 stone knife-wielding drug dealer any day.
