Hello classroom, my old friend. I’m going to work with you again…

It’s been some time since you’ve heard from me. I have to admit that’s partly deliberate. It’s not that I’ve forgotten you exactly, but I think we needed some time in our own space. 

Since the beginning of the coronavirus pandemic, I’ve been promising myself some blissful time off because it’s been harder than ever to apply the mental brake. 

You might have felt rejected when lockdown imported the virtual classroom into my home - and my brain. Actually, it was all a bit too stifling. You and I were never like that.

And now I feel guilty when my flick through Twitter reveals more than the occasional glimpse into the wonderfully renovated classroom decor of tweeting teachers. It’s all rather unsettling. 

Making your classroom your own

You’ve had a rough deal with me, it has to be said. Some couples enjoy DIY, but I’ve never been one to enjoy even home decoration, so it’s hard to understand the fascination with displays and posters to brighten the place up.

If your walls hold up the roof and keep out the draughts and the cold, then they’re good enough for me. I quite like the minimalist effect of your soft beige paint. Less is more, isn’t it? And an uncluttered backdrop soothes the mind. 

I don’t want you to think that I’m completely lacking in aesthetic appreciation when it comes to other teachers stamping their identity on a cold, soulless classroom. At the start of a relationship, it’s natural for teachers to invest more of themselves - and their money. Who wouldn’t want to mould their working interiors to make them more occupier-friendly? It’s a statement of hope for the future: a bit like moving in together. 

But things can get out of hand when other forces are at work. My nightmare is when notice boards spring up overnight around the department. Where once there was just restful wall space, suddenly there are acres of magnetic cabinets to fill. It feels like a reproach - as if I haven’t tried hard enough. 

If displays give me any pleasure during the school year, part of the joy is the sense of achievement - the knowledge that it will be some months before I have to do it again. It’s frustrating when I notice more than one piece of work slightly askew and certainly not parallel with the ground. But, at this stage of our relationship, surely we can both live with these small imperfections. 

A fling with the virtual classroom

I could never say that the virtual classroom was any kind of replacement for you. 

But there were compensations - like being able to choose the decor of my virtual classroom at the touch of a button. Was I going to have a deserted beach in the background or a plain house? 

My technical skills haven’t yet evolved to Charles Dickens wallpaper, but if there’s a second wave, I might just be able to master it. Or perhaps a wallpapering of each text as I teach it - imagine the Hound of the Baskervilles in full flight in a patch of open moor, or Sir Gawain riding across an enchanted landscape. 

The beauty of virtual wall-covering is that you only need to save it - no painful hours removing staples and drawing pins. It’s not exactly your fault, but every year I wish you could do a little bit of self-maintenance to remove them yourself. You know - a bit like a self-cleaning oven. 

Sadly, in our current pairing, we’ll never make it on to Changing Classrooms, the education equivalent of reality TV. You’ve been a bit shortchanged there. More than once you may have wished you were a geography or art room with more dazzling illustrations. Lamination and glitter really aren’t my forte. 

Like the good old days

But our relationship has lasted beyond the rocky times. It’s weathered the disaster of a cascade of water when the roof leaked, and the westerly gales that make you shiver and your window panes rattle fit for the film set of Wuthering Heights. And, of course, the Bad Display Days. 

And, as I stand on the threshold again, I can hear the echoes of all the conversations, wild ideas, in-depth discussions, triumphs and setbacks that our lessons together branded into your walls. We’ve got history to hold us together. 

So, even though there’s been a huge gap in our communication when Covid-19 kept us apart, I’ve come back from my brief flirtation with the virtual classroom. It might seem neglectful of me to have spent so much time away, but next term I promise you it’ll be just like it was before.

Yvonne Williams is head of English and drama in a secondary school in the South of England. She has contributed chapters on workload and wellbeing to Mentoring English Teachers in the Secondary School, edited by Debbie Hickman (Routledge)