School’s out for summer

School’s out for summer

At gatherings of teachers I often try to impress on them that they have no idea of the depth of impression they are capable of. Teachers routinely underestimate the effect that they have on the young minds that they mould. Ours may be an information age, with access to answers at the touch of a fingertip on a button, but technology and the Internet do not have the capacity to influence us after the manner of a good teacher. The moulding of character is an essentially human privilege. As our students and teachers look forward to the summer break and release from the goldfish-bowl world of the classroom, it is good to remind ourselves of the pedagogues of past and present who left their stamp on us and on our communities.

There are very few people who take to studying easily or enthusiastically. Most adults express regret that they did not ‘stay at the books’ a little bit longer. I confess that I escaped from the books and from my ‘A’ Level studies prematurely. I was only sixteen when I decided, without benefit of advice from anybody, that I was through with school. I simply did not return following the Christmas break. Almost six years later, I went back to the books as a ‘mature student’. Some people say that the terms mature and student are mutually contradictory. Whatever about maturity, I sat behind the desk again following an interval filled with all kinds of experiences. Twenty years later, at the end of a three-year post-graduate course, I sat down to what I hope was my final examination this side of the day of judgement.

In the family bar I used to hear old men occasionally speak bitterly of their teachers. Most of their generation did not progress beyond Primary School and their experience of a tough or an inadequate schoolmaster often soured them. The sarky, sarcastic comment of a teacher is often remembered long after the physical punishments have been forgotten. The contrast with contemporary classroom experience is stark. Children routinely say that they love their Primary School teachers. Graduation ceremonies are generally sentimental, tearful farewells as students move from one level to another. The idea of a fear-filled, punishment-heavy routine is beyond their experience.

The layers of help available to contemporary students are a constant source of surprise to me. Learning difficulties are usually spotted early on in a student’s life and appropriate and sensitive help is offered. Children no longer leave school illiterate even if contemporary standards of spoken and written English leave a lot to be desired. The range of options open to them as they ponder their future is impossibly broad; the possibilities and choices from which they decide were unimaginable to past generations.

As in all professions, there are structural and personnel difficulties and a particular culture that goes with the job. Teaching has its share of jargon and fads, in-words and social experiments. Teachers are accustomed, like many of us, to getting lots of unwanted advice from people who have never stood in front of a class. The culture of complaint weighs heavy on them as they try to balance the rights and responsibilities of school, students, parents and staff. The solution to every social problem is dumped on them as more courses are recommended. People forget that we are all teachers, if only by example.

The recent success of the Irish economy and the foundation-stone of our prosperity have been credited to the high educational standards of Irish society. We have come a long way from the hedge-schools and the town Academies. The infrastructure of education owes a lot to Church bodies and almost every educational opportunity most of us got came from parish schools and diocesan or Religious colleges. This leads to accusations of over-control on the part of the churches yet ‘control’ is the one thing missing, in the view of many observers of modern character and culture.

My own experience of school was generally positive. I have had some truly inspirational teachers and have sat through some abysmal attempts to teach. Most of the latter were at third level. Over the years of priesthood I have got to know the profession from the inside and have made many friends from their ranks. Primary School business forms a significant part of a pastoral priest’s workload. I am still shocked, however, when teachers spell a word wrongly or use bad grammar. My child-like idealising of ‘teacher’ has never quite left me. It’s like hearing a priest swear!

‘Free at last, free at last, I thank God we’re free at last’ are the words of an old Negro spiritual song. They might well be adapted to describe the feelings of our students as they leave their cages in the classrooms of the country. I have no doubt that most teachers will be feeling a little of the same exhilaration as they turn the key in the school-door. Even the priest will breathe a sigh of relief as the school-year cycle goes into free-wheel until autumn. If the opening hymn next Sunday is, ‘Free at last, free at last, I thank God we’re free at last’, you’ll understand why.