1958 Comes to UK

1966 Chatham technical school for girls

1972 Kingsway FE college, London

1975 Wins place at LSE to study history

1978 MSc in international relations

1981 Qualifies as a barrister

1989 Becomes deputy chief executive of Hammersmith and Fulham council

1995 Moves from chief executive of Merton council to what is advertised as

the ‘worst job in local government’: chief executive of Lambeth council

2000 Awarded CBE in the New Year’s Honours List

2001 Appointed managing director of 4Learning, Channel 4‘s education arm

I failed my 11-plus and went to Chatham technical school for girls, in Kent. It was a pretty awful school. I was good at some things and terrible at others. I was one of those kids who got the kind of reports - sadly repeated by my son - that said, “She probably could do better if she tried harder and paid attention”.

When I look back, I was probably bored, but I just felt stupid at the time. And because I felt stupid, I thought: “I’m not going to push myself.” That was my attitude. My mum was Jamaican and my father is English, and the school was all-white, so I felt alienated. I had friends, but it was not an easy place for me.

They had no aspirations for us. The careers advice was: “You can go and work in a shop and if you are very good you can work in an office.” The best thing you could hope for was working in the back room of a bank. But there was this one teacher, Mrs Howard, who taught me history. She was inspirational.

She was quite short and chubby, and once, when she’d broken her leg in an accident, she acted out a whole scene about Napoleon invading Russia. She walked up and down the classroom with her leg thumping on the floor, conjuring up this man, the greatest strategist in history, watching crops burn around him, his supplies cut off and his soldiers dying, realising he had achieved nothing. It made me think, “Wow! This is exciting!” She made me realise that history was a series of unbelievable events and people and that the world of learning was not a dry and deeply boring place.

I left school at 16 with four O-levels and came to London. Iwent to Kingsway FEcollege to do a drama O-level, but you had to do a certain number of hours, so Ihad to do something else as well. Isaid I quite liked history, thinking of Mrs Howard, and they sent me to see a guy called Max Johnson. He was my first black teacher, and he taught me sociology A-level.

He was the most fantastic teacher. He took me under his wing. He brought learning to life. He gave me confidence in who I was and a belief that I wasn’t stupid. He was more of a mentor than a teacher. But I still didn’t work hard. I can remember going into the A-level exam and saying to Max: “I haven’t really done the work.” And he said: “I hear you haven’t written an essay yet, so the exam will be a good practice, won’t it Heather?” Without him, I know I wouldn’t have made the breakthrough. It was a turning point. He was teaching a great course in sociology - all these no-go areas like how does society work? What’s class? What’s race? These were all opened up to me.

He didn’t teach you in the way of, “there’s this and this, and therefore that”. He provoked a sense of curiosity, conversation, and learning from each other. Sometimes he would tell a story, then retreat to the back of the class and let the conversation develop. He understood that at that age we didn’t want to be lectured at. There was a lot of laughing in his classes - not because people weren’t paying attention, but because there was a sense of freedom to explore ideas. His lessons were always pacy and exciting, and he really knew his subject. It felt like Max ran these chaotic classes that were good fun, but when I look back on it now, I realise he was structured and got you through the syllabus.

Max made me believe in myself, and because he was black he was somebody I shared an identity with. He would say:“Forget what people have told you before - you can do it.” Without Max, I don’t think I would have gone to university or done the things I’ve done. I felt something happening inside of me. Suddenly, I felt differently about myself.

Heather Rabbatts was talking to Harvey McGavin