Monday 18 May 1987

…Back to school today and because of last Friday morning we all had to
sit by people we hate…

Throughout my time at school I was regularly struck by something.

It was a blackboard rubber.

No no, it was by how childish teachers could sometimes be. They would accuse you of being immature or juvenile, then promptly go into a sulk, act out of spite, or behave in a thoroughly selfish fashion.

You can’t help being immature and juvenile when you’re 10 or 11. You can help being that way when you’re an adult. Or rather, you can better disguise being that way when you’re an adult. Why was our teacher failing to do this, and in the process just making all of us even more fed up?

It was around this time that I remember mentioning to my mum and dad how unhappy I was becoming in class. All the events of the last few months had crystallised into a persistent dislike and distrust of my teacher, feelings I also believed to be mutual. Nothing ultimately came of it, as I was leaving in a few weeks’ time anyway. But had I been in the year below, I think I might have ended up switching schools. It was certainly discussed over the kitchen table.

One thought on “Monday 18 May 1987

  1. What only dawned on me in adulthood and would’ve been very useful to have realised as a child is this: teachers have never been outside of the education system. They go from primary school to secondary school to sixth form college to university to teacher training college to working in a school. They never once experience real life as led by the rest of us. So they (broadly speaking) never lose the attitudes of school children, remaining petty, bullying, ignorant, petulant and vengeful in different combinations on different days. Also like school children, they prefer the company of the popular children.

    Come my revolution, the only people forbidden from being school teachers will be school teachers.

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