Roger!
Roger was most probably a progressive teacher in the early 70s. He insisted we
called by his first name, and caught the girls out for going to the loo in
pairs by hiding behind the classroom door!!
He rewarded children regularly for good learning by giving us biscuit -
wrapped biscuits! Posh ones! My turn came and I hid behind my school bag to eat
it. Most probably I thought he was just being nice, I didn't really deserve it.
Anyhow, he told me off, "stand proud", he said, "you've earned
it, you are good and you've worked hard". I have never forgotten!
Melle
Barrett was my maths teacher. Sadly, my attention to maths runs at a deficit!
I've been known to appear blank. Counting really doesn't excite; after 5, I jump
to loads, there's no meaning to it for me. Which is probably why I'm doing a
PhD in finance and accountability!? As
the story goes, in school I'd always failed in maths - abysmally! That was
until Miss B sat me next to her, and asked me to whisper the answers - I
couldn't write, so no surprise I’d failed. To please her, I began to work hard.
Along came the mid-term test, and my mum in her wisdom introduced the reward: a
cassette [google that kids!] of my favourite comedian. A powerful combination
of incentives, I aced the test, 18.5/20! I also used a payphone for the first
time that day to claim my reward! The power of bribery and corruption!
Finally,
George! My parents meet George and his wife while they were out walking their
dog - theirs not ours. I'm not sure who heard who first, but as English
speakers on a French street, what started as a shared fluency ended in
political and philosophical conversation - fuelled by champagne! I soon became
a willing learner, as George took me on Wednesday afternoons for English
lessons. These grudgingly began with 5 minute dictation, shortly forgotten in
favour of deep conversations about literature, philosophy and comparative
religion. I remember we started with ‘The Walrus and The Carpenter’ ... and cabbages
and kings! However, after that I can't
remember a word, but I still sense the excitement of discovery. I think George
lost the battle on the book front, that necessary evil would come much later.
But when I consider my values as a professional, practitioner and researcher,
it's all there - solid foundations on which to build! He told Mum I be an author, a dream that did
come true. What foresight though, at a time I could not make a mark, and
typewriters weighed 7 kilos. I wrote to him for years, from college, long
letters typed on coloured paper. I had no idea how lucky I was, a young mind
needing his gentle questioning. How ordinarily lucky: my first tutor an Oxford Don!
These
three people didn't set out to change my life, I doubt they would have expected
to be the subject of a conference keynote. I was a child that they loved enough
to care. In doing so they taught me that I was braver, stronger and smarter
than I believed. They could not remove the toxicity of the bigger world
conversation; the grand narratives, that insidiously lead us too believe all is
good in growth and money. A tension we all navigate, but one that adds to the
vilification of those denied participation in society's activity. Schooling,
employment, travel, housing... denied by shape or thought. They taught me to be proud, strong and loving – a
good antidote to despair and hopelessness in turbulent times. Apt this week in
the face of breakdowns, and disturbing events across the pond.
Thank you Barnsley!!!!!!
