What about all the rubbish teachers?

I saw this story on the BBC (Click HERE) and had a wry smile. A group of girls set up a page describing their dislike of a teacher at their school. Had we had Facebook when I was at school, it was just the type of thing I'd done ( I suppose that is probably no surprise to regular readers). Back in the 60's & 70's when I was at school, I suspect that the issue would have been handled rather differently. We still had corporal punishment then. Had I done that at Finchley Catholic High school in 1977, I guess that I' probably been beaten black and blue for my efforts. Would the teacher have been "in Counselling"? then. I suspect they'd have been in the headmasters office to sadistically watch as the canings took place. I remember the first time I was hit at school. I must have been 5 or 6. It was in what we called Infants 1 at St Vincents. I'd misspelt the word Train as Trian. Our teacher wrote TRAIN on the blackboard, called me to the front of the class and asked me to spell it correctly underneath. She handed me the chalk and I wrote in big letters T R I A N. In those days we didn't have dyslexia, so I was just thick and insolent. I got a sharp whack with a metal ruler across the knuckles. For those of you who say corporal punishment doesn't work, I've never spelt Train incorrectly since.

I remember the last time I got the cane as well. That was at Finchley Catholic High School. I was in the 5th year. A 4th year had been kicked in the face by one of my class and had a broken nose. Mr Kelly, the headmaster gathered all of the likely perpetrators together (about 8 of us) and demanded that the attacker reveal themselves. Class 5b were a rather anarchistic mob, so no one said anything. Kelly then said we'd all get 6 of the best. If the perpetrator was identified, he alone would get it. If he owned up, he'd get 6, if someone else grassed he'd get 12. No one said anything. He then dismissed one of our group, as he was disabled, and proceeded to call us in 1 by 1. We all got a good hiding. The funny thing is that it was the disabled guy who'd perpetrated the crime. How did we react? We thought we'd put one over on the system. I don't know what lesson I learned from that incident, other than don't be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Shortly after that, I transferred my allegiance to Orange Hill Senior High School. When I joined, the headmaster, Mr Cully, told me that he'd seen my school record and said it appeared that I was a troublemaker. He asked me why he should admit a troublemaker to his school. I responded that, yes I'd caused trouble from time to time, but I felt that the headmaster had disliked me and not treated me fairly. I explained the background to several incidents and Cully responded that he was prepared to take a chance. He told me that the first sign of misbehaviour would be my last day at the school. 18 blameless months later, I got caught dropping a waterbomb on a 4th year. I was sent to Cully, expecting to be given my marching orders. He said "Look, I can understand that Taylor is annoying, but this really isn't the way to deal with it, is it?". He asked me to promise to deal with things in a more mature way in future. I did. I guess he'd decided that I wasn't really such a troublemaker after all.

One of the most life-changing moments for me happened shortly before I left Orange Hill. Mr Williams, the then deputy head, called me into his office. As usual I expected to be getting the blame for something. He poured me a glass of scotch (I think I was 17 at the time) and said "I would like you to do me a favour". He explained that he was a jazz nut. He loved Charlie Parker and he'd like me to put together a presentation for him showing the development of modern music from Parker to the Pistols. All of a sudden I realised that he actually respected me. I did my very best and it went well. Up until then, the only music I'd had any interest in at all was Punk Rock. As a result of Mr Williams, my tastes broadened immeasurably and I learned to appreciate music which I'd never have listened to.

Reading about the girls and their facebook site lead me to think about my education. I remember spending hours thinking up ways of winding teachers up. I used to bring in fishing line and rig up things so they'd fall over during lessons. I used to order cabs for the headmaster at times when I knew they'd be taking assemblies. I remember dismantling a desk so that it collapsed when a teacher put their books on them. I once broke into the headmasters office at Finchley during a summer holiday to glue his desk drawers shut. The funny thing is, I never, ever did it to a teacher who I respected or who treated me fairly. It was always in response to what I felt was an injustice. When I went to Orange Hill, where I was treated like an adult, I stopped the pranks. Maybe I'd just grown up, but I think there was more to it. We had an extremely poor maths teacher taking us for Maths A Level. At Finchley, I'd probably have tormented them hoping they left. At Orange Hill, I did something completely different. I spoke to the other pupils. They agreed and we felt that it was damaging our prospects of passing the exam. I organised a delegation to see the headmaster and head of mathematics. The head of maths said that "it wasn't our place to decide who was a good teacher". I responded "yes it is, we are the ones who'll be affected if we fail". The headmaster was swayed by our arguments and we got a new teacher. When I left Finchley, I felt the school had not helped me. I realise now that it had, but probably not in the way it should. It made me an extremely belligerent individual, who will fight to the end. Orange Hill then gave me the tools to do that in a successful manner. I'm pleased to say that I've friends who have children at Finchley and it seems that the school has improved immeasurably since my days (I must also say there were good teachers there at the time, John Shuttler, my physics teacher deserves a special mention ).

The point I'm making is that we learn as much from bad schools and bad teachers as we do from good ones. The trouble is the lessons we learn are all negative ones. I suspect that the girls in this case are responding in this way for a reason. Maybe they are responding in the only way they know how to someone who is letting them down? Maybe a more imaginative school headmaster would have dealt with this in a better way, so it didn't end up on the BBC website. Maybe a better head would run a school where this didn't happen in the first place. In my experience, every school has a few bad teachers, a few inspirational teachers and the vast majority are average and do their job. The bad teachers cause immeasurable damage. Schools should have mechanisms for pupils to raise these matters, other than Facebook hate sites. One final point is that in my experience it wasn't the really strict teachers who pupils conspired against. It was either the ones who weren't any good or were grossly unfair who we resented. I never heard a single complaint for a justly delivered punishment. I think that teachers should have a teaching license. If they are no good, they should have their license revoked.