Fourteen years ago. 2010. I retired from teaching, defeated and fearful. Money had never been the clincher in my aim in life… otherwise I would never have chosen a career in teaching! Whilst it offers a living wage, it is not what I consider to be adequately paid given the sacrifices, the hidden deprivations, a teacher makes day in, day out.

Teaching can be a tyrant, a never-satisfied monster, hovering, waiting to spit you out at the merest hint of failure. I’ve always thought what an irony that mistakes are regarded with deep contempt in the profession. As if a mistake were not permissible - when the whole point of education is to allow mistakes to act as a forerunner of growth. And enrichment at the heart of education.

During my final years in the world of education and secondary school teaching, as a teacher of special needs, ( a so-called Specialist Teacher, ) I served with a group of 90-strong other teachers of SEN, all of them time-served, and most probably in their final job before retirement . All had had to cut their teeth teaching whole classes, and now they were expected to work with one individual or possibly two, (rarely a foursome of pupils , nowadays also referred to as students, ) to focus on skills that were in need of a boost.

I taught one boy who’d never been to school before he was adopted. His frustration at not knowing what the others knew was immense. I taught an 11 year old girl whose mother had 7 children by many fathers, was living in a hostel, and  had used a grandparent’s address to get ‘A’ into this school, and who looked of pensionable age at only 37. Ravaged by her life experiences it seemed to me.

I taught a dyslexic 13 year old, endearingly frank about all aspects of his family life, stories to make your hair curl . One day, he asked me why I’d got new glasses. I explained how, as he knew, the previous glasses were always letting me down, and the lenses dropping out because of an inadequate lower wiring system. He listened thoughtfully, then asked to see the glasses. What he actually said was “Give ‘em here”.  I did as he bid, and from his trouser pocket, he got out a fragment of tissue, saying, “Well, they still need a clean, Miss!” He was loath to give up his assumed job as my glasses technician, a title I’d jokingly made up for him, as he was very good at practical tasks, and had, on several occasions shoved back a lense into the socket for me. This cameo episode says a lot about what is actually vital learning in the world of education. From nursery to higher, and through all the tiers, we need the most important element of all: connection. A relationship forged through a genuine connection, however seemingly trivial, is a bond never to be undone and to this day I carry the fondest memories of my entire career from tiny, immeasurable happenings, which some might be quite dismissive about, but which, to me, are jewels.

Sally

A Moodscope member