Writing below about my economics teacher who taught about the free market in terms of bartering on the then black market, it brought to mind how different teachers were then than now; I remembered his lesson for life, which would have been unlikely if it had been a dry textbook study.
Our chemistry master always seemed to have a series of uncontrolled disasters, explosions, stinks, etc, but looking back it is clear that he was a sort of Tommy Cooper in disguise. Our history master alwanys seemed to manage to end the lesson with a good battle or a nice juicy murder. Our maths master always seemed to manage to find practical examples for our algebra (if a rifle with fifty rounds and three grenades cost . . . etc, rather than apples and oranges). Our French master even manage to introduce some pictures of sexy-looking (to 15year old boys) females into the lesson. We had to work hard, risked a piece of flying chalk if we were inattentive, but we generally remembered what we were taught and none of us could say they didn't do their best for us. Most were past retiring age, because of the war, but that didn't seem to have dampened their enthusiasm.
I love the thought that somehow these teachers could come back from the past and take over at our local boy's school! It would be wonderful to be able to watch the reactions of not only the boys, who would probably enjoy it, but the reactions of the health and safety experts, OFSTED, child protection maniacs, education experts, council officials, school governors and all the others who try to tell teachers how to do their job. Contrary to David Cameron's belief, it is clear to me that teaching skills are far more important than mere academic qualifications.
Ah well, It's nice to dream occasionally!
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