Teach Primary Issue 18.5

www.teachwire.net | 47 I n schools up and down the country this summer there will be shows, songs, celebrations – and a few tears – as children and teachers part in a frenzy of shirt-signing and present-giving. A universal rite of passage, a beat in the comfortingly familiar but relentless rhythm of the school year. So iconic are these moments, so woven into the fabric of all our lives, that the unique bond between teachers and their charges has inspired great films. Harry Potter , of course, School of Rock and The History Boys . The Oscar-winning Goodbye Mr Chips , was released nearly a century ago. In a memorable scene, the eponymous nonagenarian teacher lies on his deathbed and hears those in attendance solemnly whispering how sad it was he never had children. “But, I have,” Mr Chips smilingly croaks (just before he croaks). “Thousands of ‘em!” And in that there is a truth about our profession. Guiding lights We are in loco parentis. Teaching is about complex emotional relationships, not just formulaic passing-on of knowledge and skills. We encourage, challenge and nurture. We wipe bottoms and noses (don’t confuse the two), tend grazed knees and help mend friendships when they go awry. We pull children up when they stray, steady them when they wobble, and gently push them in the right direction with an encouraging word. We teach, of course – and we do so brilliantly – but vitally we also offer kind words and an uplifting smile just when it’s needed most. Because to learn, children must feel capable and loved. If we’re on form (and we usually are, because we work blooming hard at it) we even inspire them. But, goodness, don’t they also inspire us?! Despite its downsides, what a privilege this job is. As Mrs Chips astutely says to her husband of his teaching work, “I don’t see how you could ever get old in a world that’s always young.” At leavers’ assemblies, children and staff will share favourite memories with gathered parents where (sorry, Secretary of State) no-one ever relates a cherished recollection of solving a maths problem or learning historical dates. Memories are of school productions, sports matches, trips and residentials, and kind or funny things that happened in class. Schools, like all workplaces, are social settings, and it’s the human interactions that stick in the mind long after fronted adverbials have fled it. As the saying goes, children might not remember everything you taught them, but they’ll always remember how you made them feel. Familiar faces Recently, whilst I was standing in a queue, a bearded chap, tall and imposing, said tentatively, “Mr Harcombe?". Knowing what was coming next I asked, “Who are you and was I nice to you?” He laughed (phew!), and reminded me he had been in my Year 6 class some thirty years earlier. He’d since followed my career online. I listened as he recalled how, on the coach from the end-of-year concert, I had asked him, “That’s your primary education done, now what are you going to do with your life?” Taken aback by my forthrightness, he confessed he quite enjoyed maths. “You’re good at maths,” I'd said, “get yourself a job using that – engineering or technology maybe.” In the queue, I asked, “And how did that work out?” He replied, “I’m managing director of my own engineering company.” He thanked me for my teaching and I thanked him twice – first for approaching me and secondly for making my day. Long after the children’s farewell tears have dried, the last wine has been downed, the final Ferrero Rocher crunched, and other leaving gifts have lost their handles (I’m looking at you, ‘World’s Greatest Teacher’ mug), these uniquely human memories endure. What’s more, because in every ending is a new beginning, come September new children and teachers will begin another amazing journey with each other. In years to come, one of your former pupils will approach you with a cheery, “Remember me?” and you really won’t need to ask, “Was I nice to you?” because, wonderful teacher, you will have been. It’s what we do. TP FAREWELL... So long, Kevin Harcombe is former headteacher of Redlands Primary, Fareham. Kevin Harcombe reflects on those bittersweet Year 6 goodbyes THE B I G SUMMER S END - OF F “It’s the human interactions that stick in the mind long after fronted adverbials have fled it”