Some people think that the most interesting thing about me is the fact that I was fired from The Apprentice in the first week of the show.
What’s even more interesting is that, if you’re a teacher who cares, it’s your fault I was even in the boardroom being berated by Lord Sugar in the first place.
I should be a statistic really. My childhood was full of neglect, violence and abuse. I was in and out of foster homes and what kept me from giving up was a handful of teachers.
See: without heroes like you, I’d be dead. Simple as.
When I was 9, my younger brother and I “rescued” a dog. It had been abandoned and was so exhausted it couldn’t really escape us so, if I’m honest, it was less of a rescue and more of a dognapping.
At that time, you needed a licence for a dog and someone on our street dobbed us in. Soon, two guys pulled up in an official looking white van and knocked on the door.
The first guy asked asked if my mum was in. I said no, because she was in the back room and still spaced out from the night before.
This was normal.
I was in the front room, having prepared breakfast for myself and my siblings - a plateful of broken biscuits. We were sharing them with our dog, Lady.
The floor was strewn with paraphernalia from the previous evening: half-full lager cans, cigarette stubs and little plastic bags that had contained white powder that was definitely not sherbet.
The first man barged in and the indignant look on his face turned to disgust as his eyes trailed around the room taking in our home, which resembled the set of a particularly graphic Oliver Twist play.
He seized Lady with a neck restraint, turned to leave and then stopped. What he said next would stay with me forever.
“This place isn’t fit for a dog to live in.”
Then he took our dog away.
Right there, I realised my parents were right. I was worthless.
Now, the man that took our dog away was doing his job. He did what he was supposed to do, protect the dog. He was doing what he thought was the highest and best thing he could do.
What he missed is that there was something higher and better.
I work with teachers and TAs every day speaking, coaching and running workshops in schools, and every day I see ordinary heroes go unrecognised.
You have skin in the game. You show up with your whole self and your consistency has more impact than can be measured on a progress tracker.
You stand shoulder to shoulder with your students and, most importantly, in a system obsessed with data, you are authentic in your commitment to see your mini-humans as names first, not numbers.
If we’re being open and honest, now has to be the most difficult time to be a teacher. The demands of your role are not conducive to taking care of your own wellbeing, let alone gifting the children you actually gave birth to the time they deserve.
Ofsted, learning walks and book tyrannies present a threat big enough to stop you from lifting your head from the daily busyness of teaching an instil a fear of “getting teaching wrong”.
That’s why I took this risk and bared my soul for you in this TEDx Talk.
For you.
To say something you don’t hear often enough.
Thank you.
Jaz Ampaw-Farr is a former Apprentice contestent, a Literacy Advisor, and a keynote speaker on education.
You can book or connect with Jaz on her website www.jazampawfarr.com or through Twitter @jazampawfarr
