That the phrase “teacher bashing” is common currency in itself tells you we have a problem - try inserting any other profession before the word “bashing” and see if it feels anything like as familiar. The sad fact is that, despite being one of the most important and altruistic of professions, teachers are seen as fair game for criticism in a way that many other comparable occupations are not.
Why so? There are myriad possible explanations. One is the ubiquity of teachers: they are in every community and are staples in the plots of books, film and TV, so, for better or worse, they are never far from the public consciousness. Then there is the age-old problem that just about everyone went to school, giving some people an inflated sense of expertise about teaching, even if it is several decades since they spent a decent amount of time in an actual school.
There are also, of course, the hoary old jibes about teachers’ apparent indolence - never more unfair than in these past 18 months of Covid - for which “short” working days and long holidays are presented as evidence, conveniently ignoring how much out-of-hours time (and headspace) teachers dedicate to the education of the nation’s pupils and students.
Last week, primary teacher Gemma Clark wrote an online piece for us about what to do when faced by online teacher bashers, which she wrapped up by invoking the Covid pandemic and urging colleagues not to “lose sight of the fact that you have risen to the biggest challenge to face education in our lifetime”.
Teacher bashing relies, of course, on the perpetuation of crude stereotypes, on the reduction of millions of people around the world to shared vices: teachers as clock watchers who can look forward to box sets and a glass of wine from 3pm each day; teachers as feckless individuals who couldn’t hack it in “more demanding” careers; teachers as intransigent “lefties”, spouting propaganda to unwitting children.
Last week, there was more evidence, if it was needed at all, of the ridiculousness of any suggestion that teachers are all cut from the same cloth. I tweeted to ask what jobs teachers had done before going into teaching - and the hundreds of responses were mind boggling in their variety.
We heard from teachers who had been - to list only a few of the replies - an opera singer, a football commentator, a stand-up comedian, a wedding-cake designer, a breastfeeding counsellor, a counterterrorism researcher, a council grass cutter, a sail maker, an audiologist, a cytogeneticist, a Merchant Navy officer, a band manager, a tea lady, a cancer researcher, a travel agent and a coal miner.
After we dismiss the stereotypes, what, if anything, could link this amazingly varied bunch of people?
Angus Carmichael - middle and high school principal at the International School of Aberdeen - helps to provide an answer. He could not pinpoint one person, when asked, who had made the biggest difference to schools during Covid: he praised all those educators who had made the wellbeing of young people their priority during the pandemic.
As Gemma Clark put it: “You were there to pick up the pieces when school buildings reopened, and you prioritised the health and wellbeing of the children in your care.”
And there it is. People are drawn to teaching after spells in all manner of other professions by a desire to contribute to the greater good, to dedicate their skills and experience to improving the prospects of their students. In short, they seek fulfilment by bettering the lives of others.
And who in their right mind would want to bash that?
@Henry_Hepburn
This article originally appeared in the 30 July 2021 issue under the headline “If only trolls had a bash at praising teachers instead of vilifying them”
