When I became a teacher I had to learn a lot, and fast.  Teachers' College was useless when it came to helping us deal with the actual classroom and day-to-day situations. We spent two years on educational theory and other academic abstractions, unconnected, as usual, to reality.


Being a fairly opinionated and outspoken person, I decided very early on, that it would be wrong of me to use the classroom as a platform for my views.  I am pleased to say that I never did preach to my pupils, on any issue.  Yes, I questioned their views and played "devil's advocate" on many occasions, but I did not state my beliefs.  Expressing enthusiasm for one's interests is a far cry from stating an opinion on political or religious issues.


This was very important when I came to teach public speaking to adults, for if the students knew my opinion on a particular subject, they would be less likely to speak against my view, fearing, unnecessarily, that I would be subjective in my judgement of them.  For a start, I was more interested in how they spoke than the content of their speeches.  I used to say to classes, at the outset:
"If you have an unpopular viewpoint, by all means express it, as long as you can support it with evidence."
I wanted no censorship and by not expressing my personal outlook on any issue, the students felt free to state their opinion on any issue.


One regret I do have about my teaching life is that I talked too much, a failing, I think, of many teachers.  But unlike many teachers, I didn't use my talking as a means of disseminating my beliefs.
Too many teachers I have known or heard of, abuse their power by preaching to classes.  By all means question, but don't attempt to indoctrinate.  That is not what teaching is all about, no matter how committed the teacher is to their cause.

This week I wish to post a wonderful poem by Kahlil Gibran.  It is mainly addressed to parents, but its truth is universal:


Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.


You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot
visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.


You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
...
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness

My experiences as a teacher, especially as a teacher of public speaking, have revealed how vital self-confidence is to all achievements.
Self-confidence and ego are different things.  Self-confidence simply recognises one's abilities, potential and limitations, whereas ego is so insecure it must prove itself regularly, with displays of strength, knowledge, power.


I taught a teenage boy years ago who was never arrogant because he was so self-confident.  When he spoke to his peers, they listened.  When he joked with a teacher, he knew exactly how far to go. His self-confidence made him well liked and respected. He had his vulnerable side, but it was not large.
Building confidence in one's students is, I believe, an important part of a teacher's job.  I have found that a little bit of praise goes a lot further than a heap of criticism.


A story on this issue that comes to mind is one from Summerhill School.  Neill, the head, was concerned about a new arrival at the school, a boy of about 12.  He lacked confidence so much he became quickly anti-social and didn't attend any lessons.  One day, as Neill was looking out the window of his office, he saw this boy spit a tremendous distance.  So the next day, Neill announced that at 1pm there would be a spitting contest.  Needless to say, the boy won and soon afterwards began attending lessons and mixing happily with the other pupils.
By finding the boy's one 'strength' and boosting it, he had also helped boost his self-confidence.  Unusual though the method was, it worked.
When I repeated this tale to a headteacher years ago, he snorted:
"A spitting contest!" - missing the point of the story completely.

The anthropologist Malinowski discovered many interesting aspects of the society of the Trobriands, part of the Solomon Islands of Melanesia.


One of the most curious customs was how children are brought up.   The parents remain their children's playmates throughout the early years and beyond.  All authority, all boundaries are set by the uncles, aunts and cousins of the children.  This notion runs counter to modern Western thinking, where parents are both the playmates and authority, and reject vehemently any outside criticism or interference in their parenting.  This creates a problem for the children.  One moment they are being hugged and told how much they are loved, and the next moment they are being shouted at by the same person, and told they are bad for transgressing a parental rule.  This 'angel/devil' approach helps create a psychological schism and can lead to all kinds of mental conflicts later on.


If the people who are your first guardians bring you up with unconditional love, while others impose the necessary discipline, these conflicting images of parents and oneself would not exist.
Some say that this creates two sets of people for the child - parents who are loved, and others who are hated.  But if restrictions on behaviour are administered with sense and sensitivity, the child will accept these boundaries more willingly than if they are enforced with threats and punishments.


The Trobriands are a much happier people than most of us Westerners are.  I believe it's all in the upbringing.

Why is it that two of the most important jobs in the world require no experience, training or qualifications?  Politics and parenting.
This century, we have seen the rise of the 'professional politician', i.e. people who have worked only in the political sphere, be it in PR or political internships.  Some of the best teachers I have known had a hinterland, a background of differing occupations and interests.  So too with politicians - the best, the most in touch with their public are usually the ones who have worked in areas of employment dissociated from the political world, seasoned by their experience.  In any case, the expression 'professional politician' is a misnomer.  Skills such as smooth public speaking, the ability to deceive and conceal, and the willingness to sell your scruples to obtain power and prominence will see almost anyone ambitious enough into parliament.


As for parenting, it is true that there are parenting classes now, but the usual response to my original question is that parenting is 'natural and instinctive'.  To some degree this is true, but far too may simply repeat the pattern of their own childhoods, whether good or bad.  Future and present parents should question the way they were brought up.  For most people, much of it will be replete with sensible and pleasant memories, though there is always a danger of sentimentalising a troubled childhood.  But the most important aspect of this questioning is to reflect on those attitudes and actions which you recall as cruel or just plain wrong.  The worse the childhood, the more important it is to 'break the chain', to overturn the past and treat your own children in a supportive and loving way.  Some manage to do this, but far too many still won't look back in order to go forward.

This year I intend to broaden my blog beyond the School v Education theme.  Both school and education will be recurring themes, but the scope of the blog content will be wider.


In a previous post, I mentioned Homer Lane, the American 'educator', and his tremendous success with young offenders. His book Talks to Parents and Teachers might sound uninspiring, but really it is a masterpiece of sheer insight into human nature and human behaviour.
Lane was an enigmatic person who employed methods that were at complete odds with Victorian and Edwardian thinking on the subject of 'juvenile delinquents'. Methods that were revolutionary then and are still revolutionary, 100 years later.  In the homes he ran for young offenders, the recidivist rate was close to zero, whereas today, 60-70% return to crime, once released. That our authorities have learned nothing from Lane is despicable.
Lane was so engaging and so thought-provoking that he attracted a wide variety of people, including Christopher Isherwood, W.H. Auden, The Bishop of Liverpool, and the Viceroy of India, Lord Lytton.  Lytton's tribute to Homer lane, after Lane's death at 50, is one of the most beautiful, touching, perceptive eulogies I have ever read or heard.


In 1978, it was my pleasure and privilege to meet Lane's biographer, David W. Wills.  At his suggestion, I visited one of the many homes Wills and the Homer Lane Trust had established - homes for seriously abused children, from neglect to violence, all emotionally damaged.  During my 5 day visit I met some deeply scarred kids, but had to keep my distance.  Each child had bonded with a particular adult, and in any case, an attachment between myself and a child was not advisable with such a short stay.  But it was difficult not to respond when a little girl held out her arms to me and cried "Love me!"
The home was a place of genuine healing, since the entire culture was based on patience, tolerance and love, with the total absence of punishment, something they had had too much of already.
Curiously, the most interesting part of the week was when I was driven, by the head's secretary, to Gloucester Station to return to London.  She was a local woman who had worked at the home for 2 years.  She said that when she began work there, she was taken aback by the atmosphere and ethos of the place - not in any moral sense, but because the approach made her revalue the way she was bringing up her own children.  She then added that the home was 'deeply curative' and that she had been won over to Homer Lane and his 'great faith in human nature'.

There have been many stories told about teachers, both real and imaginary.  Two contrasting stories, both fictional, highlight very different types of teacher - Terence Rattigan's play and film The Browning Version and Muriel Spark's book and film The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie.

The Browning Version tells the tale of a teacher who is near retirement, the kind of teacher most of us have experienced in our school life, a humourless, very strict man, dedicated to teaching, but as remote from his pupils as you can get.  One day, a pupil he has taught, presents him with a farewell gift, Robert Browning's translation of Homer's The Illiad.  This boy, like so many young people, sees beyond his teacher's austere demeanour.  The effect of this kind act devastates the teacher and makes him realise that his nickname, 'Himmler' is well earned but something, right at the end of his career, that he bitterly regrets.  At the final assembly, he apologies profoundly to the pupils for his severe approach over the years.

The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie is a cautionary tale about charismatic teachers.  Jean Brodie is almost the opposite of the teacher in Rattigan's story, a woman so involved with her pupils that she is resented by most of her colleagues, and especially by the headmistress.  Miss Brodie is one of those teachers whose charisma overwhelms most of her pupils - to the extent that one of them dies as a result of her teacher's misguided enthusiasm.  Eventually Miss Brodie is reported by one of her pupils.  The girl rightly says to her:
"You're not good for people".

I once heard a teacher say:
"Heaven save us from charismatic headteachers."
The problem of such heads is that though they might improve schools during their tenure, when they leave, the schools decline.  If the culture of a school is good, then the head will not have to be either charismatic or uninspiring.