How much do you remember about your English lessons when you
were a pupil? The majority of my lessons I remember as a blur, an amalgamation
of lessons over time. It’s strange the small details I do remember, the obscure
quotations from texts such as the Merchant of Venice or Macbeth, the distinct
feeling of hatred I felt towards Gerald in An Inspector Calls (and presumably
because of this, I can remember clearly who read out his part in class). In
amongst these recollections is the memory of my Standard Grade (Scottish
equivalent of GCSE) teacher, Mrs Jones. I don’t think I would ever have called
Mrs Jones my favourite teacher at the time, but now, as a teacher myself
looking back, I see that Mrs Jones has shaped my teacher identity more than
I perhaps consciously realise.
What Mrs Jones taught
me about being a good English teacher
Mrs Jones never gave the impression that she particularly
liked us. There is no one that could give a pithy burn like Mrs Jones. She was
quick, concise and devastating with her comments, in a moment she could cut
down your 14 year old arrogance in a way that never felt personal or
unjustified. This, I now know as a teacher myself is an important, implicit
behaviour management technique, a way of putting pupils in their place with
grace and humour but more importantly with the edge that lets the class know
that they have met their match. Do I always emulate this? No… sadly not, I
don’t think I could ever quite reach the Mrs Jones level. Yet, I do think this
‘English teacher wit’ is an important part of a good English teacher’s
identity.
As a pupil I was not aware of the idea of someone having
‘high expectations of us’, yet, as a teacher looking back, Mrs Jones embodied
this. To us, we always thought she was harsh. We felt she marked our work more
harshly than other teachers. She wanted more of us when we gave a lazy answer.
Now whilst these things did not make you a popular teacher, when I
think about it, it made me work harder to gain her respect.
Who cares?
Now, despite giving the impression that she did not
particularly like any of her pupils there are two instances that really stick
out to me that shows that Mrs Jones cared a lot. When I was 14 my great
grandmother died in very tragic circumstances; she suffered a heart attack
after a local teenager threw a stone through the window of her retirement home.
In a strange twist of fate, a few weeks after this, we were reading a short
story where the events mirrored this in an uncanny way. After reading the story
Mrs Jones pointed out a case in that happened locally which showed that this
sort of thing happened in real life. I imagine the point she was trying to get
across was that as teenagers, our actions have consequences, which is clearly
an important message. Yet, for me this was not ‘a story’ in the local press, it
was my great grandmother. It was the end of the lesson and I burst into (what I
felt) were discrete tears. I don’t even remember telling my friends afterwards
what was wrong (although I possibly did). I composed myself and went to my next
lesson. Later that day I was in Graphic Communication and Mrs Jones came to the
door and asked to speak to me. She had come to apologise for the lesson, she
hadn’t been aware that the woman she was referring to was my great grandmother.
I have no idea how she found this out but it made a world of difference to me
that she came to find me to explain and check I was ok. That’s the thing about
English, we deal with subjects have the ability to shock, to upset, to touch us
in a powerful way and this always needs to be done with sensitivity… but it
needs to be done. Despite my personal reaction and connection to those events,
I believe that if the story and the connection she made between it and my great
grandmother’s case touched someone else, made them think about their actions in
future, it was all worth it.
The second thing is a small point but one I see in a
different way now I’m a teacher myself. Now, perhaps I shouldn’t mention this
given my job, but I have always struggled with spelling. Clearly Mrs Jones had
picked up on the disparity between my general ability in English and my ability
to spell. One day after lesson she held me back and gave me a pocket spell
checker. Given what I know about teaching now, I imagine that spell checker was
purchased with her own money and it is indicative of the kindness that the best
teachers seem to have.
So despite the pithy putdowns and harsh marking, Mrs Jones
clearly did care. She didn’t need to be our ‘friend’ or be soft on us, but she
showed she cared when it mattered.
My best English
lesson
At the start of this blog I mentioned how I could not
remember discrete lessons, however that is not entirely true… I remember one
lesson very vividly. It was the 12th of September 2001. I know the
date because it was the day after the terrorist attack on the World Trade
Centre. Sadly, we have become desensitised to terrorist attacks, for our pupils
now terrorism is part of life, but the 9/11 attack was truly shocking and in
hindsight seemed to change everything. I remember coming home from school on
the day it happened and seeing my mum enraptured in front of the TV as I passed
the patio doors to our family room. I remember watching the plane smash into
the side of the building on the small TV screen and not quite realising what I
was watching, whether it was real or not.
The next day in English we didn’t carry on the lesson from
before. We did something different. Mrs Jones had photocopied an opinion piece
from one of the newspapers. I remember it was a defiant open letter to the
terrorists. Our task was to read through it and then use the lines from the
article to create our own poem.
It was powerful.
It is the only English lesson I distinctly remember and the
reason for this is that Mrs Jones recognised the significance of this event in
history, its raw topicality, the need for us to process what had happened
through language. Mrs Jones clearly recognised the need to sometimes take time
out from the SOW, the mid term plan, the exam preparation and focus on what is
important: The way in which language shapes our understanding of the world.
Mrs Jones taught me two important lessons that day, one as a
child and one as an English teacher. She taught me the need for English to be
reflexive to the world around us and to use English as a tool to understand and
shape the word around us.
I said at the beginning of this blog that I would not have
considered Mrs Jones my favourite teacher but in hindsight she was my best
teacher and has shaped me as an English teacher more than she could have
possibly imagined. It is with great regret that I didn’t say ‘thank you’ at the
time and I hope that one day she might know the profound impact she has had on
my teacher identity.