The
Teacher ©
By
Michael Casey
Now
as I start this talk I’m not decided as to where to take you, I
only picked the title because I sent an email to a “teacher”
whether or not he replies I just do not know. So that’s why you
have this title today 6th
Oct 2019, I’ve added the title just in case the “teacher” does
in fact reply. Yes, I’m as conceited as that, just in case somebody
goes through my papers in the Future and says this day marks the day
that, and so on and so forth etc etc, just as the King in the King
and I used to say in Thailand, or was it Tie Land the retail store
where the “teacher” used to buy all his ties from Mr King.
So
shall we remember our school days and the teachers then. I’ve just
remembered Mr Skullian the teacher from class 6 was it, and did I
pull his sideburns, did he teach us I am a Merry Ploughman back in
1967 or 1968. That was the last of my clownish behaviour. In the
Summer holidays I cried because my next teacher would be Mr Gallagher
who went drinking with my dad. In fact he looked like Milo O’Shea
from Barbarella or Mi Mammie, he was a hard tough man, but my parents
were happy because fear of him did change my life.
I
started to read bigtime that Summer holidays, I still got 4 of the
pump on backside for not knowing my Times Tables. 4 of us were the
clever ones so we were expected to know them, Mr Gallagher kept on
putting off the test, and finally I was not up to speck so I got
beat. Yes, I did know them the next time the test came, and I know
them to this day 50 years plus later. I did get revenge in a way, Mr
Gallagher tickled me as I was sat at my desk, so I rocked my head
back in reaction, and hit his nose causing it to bleed. All very
innocent fun back in those days, and no I was not punished for it. It
was the 1960s and those may have been the best years in everybody’s
lives.
Later
as I was top of the class due to all my reading I was put downstairs
at a desk and given some special books to learn from, a kind of
receptionist in the hall outside the school hall and the head
teacher’s office. I seem to remember being there for a long time.
That’s when I read the Outline of History by H.G. Wells. I also
remember Mr Marshall and his motorbike and him falling off his bike.
He tried to trick me and test me on The Outline of History, so maybe
God punished him for that.
I
can also remember Mr Roe in his cords, my mother forced him to give
my brother proper homework from a book, and it must have worked as my
brother got into grammar school, the 2nd
in the family to do so. I in turn ended up in grammar school, the
same one as my 2 elder brothers had gone to. So the Latin teacher Mr
Hanney who was 5 feet zero insisted on calling me Casey Minimus, as
major and minor has preceded me, so I was Minimus. Nothing is Minimus
about me nowadays, nothing at all.
Our
French teacher was Mr Long who was behind the Lines in WWII, it was
his last year of teaching, and I was failing at French. But God and
Luck came along. Mr Notzing was my next French teacher for 4 years at
grammar school. We could have gone forward a book or started on an
easier book, so we resumed French, Mr Notzing believed in testing, so
every week for 4 years I had a French test. And thanks to Mr Notzing
je continue a bavarder bien, which means I can still chatter in
French.
It
was him and him alone that made the difference, he also did make-up
for school productions, we were probably the last generation that did
that at school. He sat Edwards in a chair and turned him into an old
man by using face makeup. Mr Notzing was really skilled, I don’t
know why he showed us this skill, otherwise we just hated him for all
the French testing. Sadly he died on a train station platform, aged
56 or so, he had a heart attack and died, and there but for the
Grace of God could have been me too back in 2015.
Mr
Rogers was my Physics teacher, it was because of him I passed, he was
enthusiastic and young. The Abbot was the huge science book we had,
my brother had read it cover to cover but I was not as disciplined as
my brother. I was good or even very good at school, but I could have
been even better, I enjoyed my rugby and tv too much, tough I did
listen to masses of Radio 4.
All
in all a teacher can make a difference, I’ve even been an Esol
teacher myself. As you know I got Excellent, Excellent and Exemplary
for my External Assessment, why, because I am an entertainer when I
teach. But if you misbehave I’ll just throw you out, 7 or was it 9
was my record for throwing out people. There has to be testing with
learning, Mr Notzing was the best teacher ever, because he didn’t
trust us to learn it, we had to prove to him and more importantly to
ourselves just what we actually knew.
In
Faith they say it’s what you do that matters, not the bluster and
the lies you speak, just as in Politics, it’s what you actually do
that counts. So as a Parent we have to set an example and have a
friendship with our kids, don’t farm them off to babysitters, or to
electronic devices. We are all our kids first Teacher and we actually
live with our kids, so as parents as our kids teacher, we should be
like Barry White, the first, the last, the everything to our kids.
