Being Taught a Lesson.


Of the many assemblies I attended in 1995, one sticks in the mind the most.

Occasionally, someone other than our head teacher would take the stage. These instances offered alleviation from the usual monotony. By far the most entertaining, often for the wrong reasons, were those lead by a particular teacher who shall remain nameless.

His stints at the mic were the funniest. The chief source of the humour, I'm ashamed to admit, was his obvious nerves. His fear of public speaking would alway made him trip up verbally. It didn’t help that he had a lisp. On one occasion, he told the harrowing story of a pedestrian who was trapped 'under the lorries of a wheel'; a linguistic misstep that undermined his account instantly and left us stifling laughter.

He’d clutch each side of the lectern for dear life, like it would offer protection from the swarm of 800+ pre- and post-pubescent students glaring up at him. It never did. Secondary school kids are an unpleasant, unforgiving bunch en masse.

The lecture I come back to most was in many ways the saddest. Boyzone had just released their cover of the Cat Stevens song Father and Son (which was upsetting enough). This teacher, who was clearly a child of the 70s, presumably felt he’d finally found a point of connection with his students. He kicked off his assembly with confidence, telling us how Boyzone’s current hit was originally recorded by another artist – and that if we listened to his version we’d be gripped by the true meaning of its story.

On cue, a scratchy vinyl copy of the Cat Stevens song began to play. It had the opposite affect. Stevenage children of the mid-90s weren’t used to something so primitive and honest. Each line Stevens sang provoked more and more laughter, while the teacher – who had shared something that clearly meant a lot to him – could only look on.

Looking back, I know it was us that were wrong, not him. This morning, I put Father and Son on for the umpteenth time and it made my hair stand on end; useful, as it saved me having to style it.

I know what it's like to be on the receiving end of teenage bastardy, to be fair. A few years ago I was teaching singing, when I was stopped mid-flow by a student.
'Yes, what's wrong?' I asked.
'I was just wondering why one of your ears is higher than the other.'

There's no answer to that.


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