Back to School!

This week I went back to school, the first time since I started a job teaching at the Princesa de Asturias school in Elche, Spain in 2017. My Cousin is particularly busy looking after her two youngest children at the moment, so I was delighted, if a little nervous, when she asked me if I would go with her daughter to parent's open day. This isn't something I have ever done before, so was naturally a little hesitant at first.

At fifteen years old, my Cousin is in her final stretch of school, and it was important I attended with her, to get feedback about her accomplishments over the last year, especially after the pandemic we have all lived through. She is a well liked young girl who gets on well with all her teachers, that was clear from the moment we walked into the school. Through the main hall we went, where colleges and career information was on display, and into the classrooms beyond.

In truth, I don't know who was more anxious, me or my Cousin. Sitting down in front of her teachers, brought back memories of my own parents evenings and the dread I used to feel, as I sat down facing my educators. These were never my favourite occasions, so I could feel my cousin's apprehension, very similar to the feelings I had over thirty-three years ago. I was certainly impressed by her teachers and the fondness they had for her. This was very different to my experience as a young lad.

As a child, I was very different to my Cousin. I wasn't as outgoing and had few friends, keeping myself very much to myself. I also came from a less tolerant era, where my sexuality wasn't acknowledged or even spoken about. The children at this progressive school in Portsmouth were certainly more grounded and worldly-wise, unlike the kids in my day.  More in tune with their own identities, they were far more self-assured and confident, but maybe, just maybe a little more supercilious, than I was used to.

Our school years are important and define us as adults later in life, so it is important we do as well as we can. Sadly sometimes we expect too much of children at such a young age. Deciding the direction our lives should follow, based on five years of secondary school education, is too much to expect. Speaking from my own perspective, I didn't have a clue what I wanted to do when I left school. I took the wrong courses at college and university and genuinely had no idea what I was doing  then and probably still don't today.

On reflection, I wish my teachers had been as dedicated and approachable as those at my Cousin's school. Had they listened more to my needs and encouraged me in the same way, I may well have done much better than I did. Despite my high praise for the teachers I met on Thursday, I was also surprised by the difference in discipline from my school days in the 1970s and 80s. A teacher seems to be more of a friend than a mentor, and their repartee more in tune with the playground than an institute of education.

Despite my misgivings, I was more than impressed by their respect for LGBTQ+ and minority issues. The inclusiveness and diversity was a joy to see, albeit a shock to my system. I wasn't used to this enlightened way of teaching, but I was wholeheartedly won over, by a school that made sure everyone was recognised for their individuality and encouraged to be the person their want to be. It was a pleasure to take a dip into the working life of a school, even if it was only for a single evening. It brought many memories to the surface and was a pleasant experience I would love to be a part of again!

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