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Daniel in the Lion's
Den or a Teacher with a class of 13 year olds?
 'So
why am I a teacher?' This question is asked so
many times. The usual response when I tell someone, is amazement:
"How could you possibly do a job like that?" or "I could
never be a teacher." After a while you do begin to wonder why
yourself.
 So why am I a teacher?
Well if I ask my mother she says I was always a teacher. As a young
child I loved to play school in the playhouse that my father created for
me in the garden. My friends would come round - they always came to my
house because mum is a softie even now and spoils everyone with drinks
and snacks, and you know how mercenary children are! We would get into
the playhouse and set up school and I was always the teacher. I suppose
that this does have something to do with it. The idea of becoming a
teacher was not alien to me - it was a natural thought.
I didn't always plan to be
a teacher. At 17 I wanted nothing more than to be a research scientist.
I had even had a job offer with sponsorship through university. I was
about to sign the contracts when the topic of colour-blindness came up.
I am colour-blind, so end of contract. Looking back I am not really that
disappointed as I realise now that I would probably have found the work
repetitive and dull.
So, at 18 I left school
with the offer of a place at St. Peter's College in Birmingham, a
training college with a long history and a good reputation, but
unfortunately it fell victim to the late 1970s need for, as the
Americans say, down-sizing. The Church of England decided it could no
longer support the college and so it closed, much mourned by the 'Old
Salts' as we are known.
I entered college as a
trainee for Middle School, but as Birmingham didn't have any, I went for
my first teaching practice to a Primary School. I hated it - the
children were too young. I knew then that I would never be a Primary
School teacher.
Well, I haven't really
answered the question yet - why am I a teacher? Well young people are
not the pleasantest of people when en masse, but for some reason I love
being around them. There are difficult classes, sometimes I want to walk
out and scream, but then something happens that makes me forget the bad
and realise why I am there. I love to teach because I love teaching. I
love to show new possibilities, to hopefully open up new worlds, to
maybe give a young person a life long love of learning,
I love my main subject,
History, and adore telling stories from the past. People seem to
remember my stories - maybe I'm good at telling them or maybe I'm just
good at choosing the right stories. I am possibly an actor at heart, but
I have no fear standing at the front of a class and acting out a story.
I also love computers and enjoy showing young people the possibilities
that the computer can open up to them. I use computers in my History
lessons, but more importantly I teach ICT (Information Communication
Technology).
Finally, I just cannot
imagine doing anything else. Some years ago I had to spend a week in a
local newspaper news room. It was the most boring week of my life and at
first I could not understand why. Then I realised - I was missing the
students. I missed their liveliness, I missed their humour, I missed the
fact that I never knew what was going to happen next. I discovered that
in fact I hate routine. Now considering that my life is dominated by the
school bell and that I know where I will be and who I will be with from
September to July, that sounds odd, but with young people, you can never
predict what will happen from one minute to the next.
Recently, I had a very bad year with one
age group - three classes drove me nearly out of my mind. Despite the
other seven classes that I had I focussed more and more upon the one's
driving me mad. In June one of my older students was leaving - I really
enjoyed my lessons with this class. She left me a card and a gift. A
fridge magnet. The words on the magnet made me forgive the other's
everything. It said:
Everyone should have a
teacher like you, but so far it looks like you're one of a kind.
It is the little things like that which
make me want this job - one simple act and you forget weeks of misery.
So, for all of the
problems associated with the job, I cannot imagine ever doing anything
as worthwhile, as fulfilling or as interesting - and next time I am
moaning, I shall have to log on and read this page to remind myself why
I am there - or run home and check the fridge door!
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