The paragraph below suddenly appeared on my Facebook page. Perhaps I typed it:

I seem to have unretired. Back to working in a High School. I had forgotten how many laughs per day teaching can provide! Brain engaged! The Teacher Walk: a swooshing fly down the corridors, eyes swivelling and scanning for the slightest trace of trouble, then in the classroom – 360 degree x-ray vision. Every minute a performance, every word delivered with fine and perfect discrimination, the tone precisely measured, each word a tool. Teachers are heroes. They give their lives to other peoples’ children. But then there are the laughs…

CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCTION

Being a teacher again causes an intense session of self-examination, which naturally will involve assessment, grading, measurement against targets, intense discussions with the Head of Department and perhaps resignation. I am going to share this with you, in case you either teach, know a teacher, have a kid or kids, or just want to know if teachers actually earn their Degree in Moaning by studying or just learn it on the job.

Don’t worry. I will physically restrain myself from plunging into the Teacher moans because I know how much it annoys what we used to call “straights” I.e persons who do not share our particular drugs. (And I don’t want to be arrested again for slapping a straight for saying “long holidays”.) In this case, the drug of joy at the achievements of others. A very special drug. What a high, ladeeez and generalmen who aren’t in the Profession! Seeing a kid’s face as he/she stares unbelieving at an unexpectedly high exam grade, or overcomes an obstacle or solves a problem which could be small, medium or extremely large academically or personally. And watching, thinking yup. I had something to do with that.

And the other part of the drug is the joy of performance, otherwise known as Showing Off. Actors have it of course, and teaching is one of the performing arts, very close to acting. With slight differences: for example, there’s a different script every lesson; the audience is expected to interact with the performer, which changes the script or causes it to have to be torn up. And the performer and audience are under a continual obligation to prove their worth. Meaning sometimes the audience has an audience.

Does this mean the perfect teacher is a Narcissist? I know some for sure but a true Narcissist has no empathy and is therefore sometimes an efficient teacher but a crap human being. Ultimately someone who doesn’t truly care about the kids will wreck more lives than they save. (Although caring too much has wrecked many teachers’ lives too. I have seen them crack open like eggs and spill their hearts out on the concrete. Many! But I promised not to moan.)

Chapter 2: Life Choices Examination

Use Answer book supplied. Write cursively ensuring you dot all the t’s and cross all the eyes. Write on one side of the paper at a time. You may blow your nose on the question paper. Total marks available: 3. Time: For the rest of your life.

Question 1:

Describe and explain your fumbling dumbass route into teaching.

Assessment Objective 1: Knowledge. 4 marks.

Having spent nearly 20 years in business, mainly marketing, one day I found myself in a new flat, having just broken up with a partner.

The silence was devastating. The dust spoke to me and began to take shape and form. Gradually, faces emerged. Both known and unknown. And they started fucking and fighting, singing, shouting. Filling up my arid Cheyne Row flat until I just had to write it down. And so my first novel, Umfaan’s Heroes was born and was accepted by the iconic publisher Andre Deutsch.

One day my secretary made an announcement. “Jeeeez boss” she said. “I’m so bored! Once we’ve done the mail shots and I’ve sharpened my pencil twelve times had sixteen cups of coffee had a chat with the guy in the warehouse I fancy there’s nothing to do!”

“Me too”, I said.

“You fancy him as well?”

“I mean, I’m bored! Once I’ve given you the mail shots to send out, blunted your pencils,  spilled your coffee and told the guy in the warehouse that you and me are lovers  I have nothing to do!”

So it was she who took me along to the Get Into Teaching Fair in Islington. Because we were both bored!  I told my boss me and sec were off to a critical marketing conference. He assumed we were off to do sex in a sleazy hotel and said “fine.” Almost as soon as I got into that cavernous room full of Universities wanting to teach me to teach, I decided to: a) write another novel b) get out of business and become a teacher.

Question 2:

Analyse your decision to enter this universally sneered at profession; what are the advantages and disadvantages for yourself and the poor buggers who were victims of your hubris?

Assessment Objective 2: Analyse and apply. 8 marks.

In my dreams I thought: easy peasy! This could be fine, I thought. Where do I sign I said. Two years Bachelor of Ed degree? Great stuff. Sex drugs and rock & roll reprise! An essay or two and time to write that second book. Do lots of work with Anti-Apartheid. Enjoy the fame as the first novel comes out. Get lots of money from that and letting Cheyne Row to the American architect responsible for the re-jigging of Battersea Power station.

Did that.

What a twat.

American’s company went bust and he wouldn’t leave or pay.  While I had lots of publicity and great reviews, revenue from UH was small. But at least I finished Laszlo’s Millions and it was accepted for publication.

And I did have that reprise. Not bad for a forty-year old.

But once the BEd finished I had no choice. I had to become a teacher. I needed the money! Laszlo’s was published to little or no publicity and went the way of the stereotypical black hole of the Second Novel Syndrome.

Question 3:

Evaluate your 20 years in the world’s most moaningful profession and draw conclusions as to:

a) Whether it was worth it. How much on a scale of 1 – 56? Justify your answer.

b) Explain all deaths incurred in the process and say how they could have been increased and why;

c) Did you make any damn contribution at all? You know all this “I wanted to give something back” shit? How much did you give back to the nearest penny?

Assessment Objective 3: Evaluation. 12 marks.

a) I think is was worth it. What would I be doing now had I not gone into teaching? Crystal ball consultation. Hang on… I’m discerning…hah! Have you ever listened to BBC Radio 4 comedies? One of my favourites is Ed Reardon’s Week. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ed_Reardon%27s_Week

Wiki says the publicity material describes him as “author, pipe smoker, consummate fare-dodger and master of the abusive e-mail” – could that be me? Living in a grubby one-bed flat with a cat and desperate for any writing jobs going? Ghost-writing autobiographies for nonentity celebrities, or descriptions of the beauty of caravans for a caravan magazine, resting on the rotten and decaying laurels of an ancient TV series once co-authored?

Or perhaps the UK’s Kurt Vonnegut?

Or maybe I would have stayed in Marketing. In which case, if I  stayed in the Industrial Marketing segment I would have been earning 40 – 80K, I’d live in a Victorian semi with overweight spouse and a cat. A Mr Pooter for the 21t Century. Or Reggie Perrin. (You do the Wiki if you don’t know who they are)

So was it worth it. On the Laughter Index Scale, I would have had 90% fewer LPD (Laughs Per Day). I would have earned between 80% less (Ed Reardon scenario) or 20 – 30% more (Marketing) or 500% more (Vonnegut). WDFK. (Who De Fuk Knows). So score is 30.

No deaths were caused, although if I could have paid somebody to…delete that thought. BUT had I continued in Industrial Marketing: well, we were certainly prepared to make deals with anyone, including the most nasty, dodgy, fascistic regimes. We bought and sold everything and anything that could turn a profit. For an example, read “Laszlo’s Millions”. How many deaths could that have caused?

To (c) above then. I leave others to make that judgement.

Having looked at the Mark Scheme, I award myself 1.736/3.

CHAPTER 3: Teacher Moans

Here is a summary of the Teacher Moans. I know I promised not to, but I feel it is my duty to warn those considering entering the Profession of the pitfalls.

In your first Teaching Practice you will probably break down in tears and realise that this profession is not for you. This normally happens after a Year 9 lesson in which despite the 4 hours of lesson planning and preparation, no bugger gave a damn. You are right. This profession is not for you. But if not you, who?

The sad fact is that more time is spent filling in forms, preparing lessons, marking, attending meetings, supervising extra-curricular activities than in  teaching.

You will be supervised, inspected, watched, expected, inspected, harassed and probably at some stage, persecuted.

You will, on many occasions, leave school in a miasma of hatred and frustration, remembering that this profession is not for you.

You will make mistakes. In an unguarded moment, you may let a comment out which may be interpreted by a paranoid student or parent or colleague as being racist sexist homophobic transphobic, or even right wing .. Even though you know that you are the least….(fill in here) in the world. Even saying “shut up” to the wrong student can get you hauled up before the Head. Make friends with your Union Rep just in case. Please note: it is compulsory to blame the Government for all of this.

You will encounter colleagues who fit into any one or all of the above categories but get away with it. You may even encounter a colleague who has inappropriate thoughts or feelings toward a pupil. Often sexual. (Hell, every teacher has been through the I want him/her dead thought. That’s natural. But it is not natural to say, “Let’s do a play about Ancient Greece. I love seeing those girls in flimsy chitons…” as an ex-colleague said to me. I reported him. In his words, I betrayed him. I have come across 3-4 pedos in my teaching career and am pleased to say I played my part in their downfall)

You will spend many evenings fulfilling duties like parents’ eves, curriculum eves, and on. And you will go home and cook/eat or make love to the cat. After doing the marking of course.

You will have to fend off several ex-friends saying, Yehr stop moaning! Long holidays…As soon as you hear that phrase you are entitled to resort to  violence.

You will experience the most incredible levels of stress. Only a Brain Surgeon or Bomb-disposal person has more. You will WISH you were a brain surgeon or bomb-disposal operative. At least if you are the latter, there will be a swift end and no need to face parents.

Whatever, you will be blamed for everything. Traditionally parents blame teachers for the fact that their kids are out of control. Governments do the same. No-one dares to blame indigent bored on-their-phones parents, because there are more parents who vote than teachers.

On the other hand….

Some delightful colleagues! Some great school trips! Cheap food! Constant mental stimulation. and after all, there ARE the laughs!

CHAPTER 4: Conclusions and Recommendations

It’s great being back even though I get home with a crushing headache, too tired to cook, even the cat, sometimes dreading the next day. The students are so good for me. They refresh my brain. They remind me to laugh, and you know what? It’s such a privilege, having the opportunity to change lives for the better. Sometimes with a single sentence, or word.

Take V, for example, in Year 12. A large-boned dreamer, stares into space in the classroom. When it comes to coursework, he gives a vacant grin and says, “Sir, what do I write? His results at GCSE were terrible. His best was a C for English.

Then one day he arrived early to class and just randomly, I asked him if he reads novels. He immediately became animated nand listed a variety of books he has read. Including Dickens, Thackeray as well as a several Fantasy books I had never heard of. So inside that apparently vacant smile is a whole world. He excitedly informed me that he is  writer too! And showed me some of his writing.

So now I know which button to push when trying to get him to write the boring nonsense required by BTEC. “You can do this V! You are a writer, and a writer can write anything!”

Every kid has a button. If you can find it and push it, you can get the student to believe in you, even when you say “BTEC is important.”

….Sigh.  Retirement is wasted on me, and on you.