“Jordan! Yoordoin mi napper right in, lad! Put yer ‘ed back in that book, kid!”

Jordan - a bright pupil premium boy from the most financially deprived area of the North West - was off-task, this time because of being told his head was “too big” by James. But after the above reprimand, Jordan swiftly fell back into his passionately meticulous analysis of Macbeth’s soliloquy.

“Good lad, Jordan.”

“Fanks, Miss.”

As a skilled teacher of the third most commonly spoken language in the world, I probably should have “proof read” my language before permitting it to transform into speech.

Secondly, I should have admonished Jordan for using “Thanks” rather than “Thank you” and “F” rather than “Th”.

But how much more disruption would this have caused? Others laughing at Jordan’s poor speech and enunciation? Jordan retaliating? The recently calm and silent working atmosphere being destroyed?

These are the decisions I contemplate on a daily basis at my recently-out-of-special-measures secondary seaside school.

War against dialect

Don’t get me wrong, I entirely understand why some, maybe even a majority, of teachers stick to speaking properly at all times when in the presence of pupils. But I cannot comprehend the war against ever slipping into dialect or informal language.

As an extreme example, as a newly qualified teacher I was once told that if a different observer had heard me say “coz” rather than “because” in an otherwise “outstanding” observation, I would have failed and been put on a “support plan” for the next 12 weeks.

I was - and still am - stunned that not speaking properly can put you in the same bucket as committing a significant safeguarding breach. But the thinking behind that sanction is rife in education.

So what is the counter argument?

Correctable colloquialisms

I am aware that teachers are meant to be role models and examples who speak “properly” and “correctly”. But what is it I get paid for? Speaking “correctly” or shaping the future?

I am a firm believer that colloquial, conversational language and even slang can enhance the learning experience for both learners and teachers.

Yes, I can hear your screams and shouts of utter consternation. I know that, especially as an English teacher, I am meant to lead by example. And I would not like to even try to count the number of times I have read one of my own colloquialisms in a pupil’s speech, story or - god forbid - sonnet.

But here’s the thing: this is correctable - it can be trained out. Often, poor behaviour cannot. It takes 30 seconds to remind my pupils to write in a formal and proper tone, but it can take years for a child to learn that punching walls will never ease the anger.

I’m not saying that speaking improperly will cure a child’s anger issues, but if speaking and sometimes even acting the way they speak and act makes them feel - if only briefly - more at ease and ups their speed on the road to acceptable, maybe even good, behaviour, then surely it’s a must rather than a maybe.

I believe that we need to reflect the pupils we teach. Obviously, I’m not expecting the teaching equivalent of Prince Charles to transform into Peter Kay (an intriguing idea), but I do believe that we can do more with our words and speech in order to reach the poorly behaved and the disengaged.

Gemma Duignan is a secondary English teacher in Blackpool