Making Waves.

I am worried. And I feel old. I have reached an age where I find myself thinking nostalgically about what things were like when I was a lass. As a teacher, I don’t think a day goes by when I am not shocked and/or saddened by the attitudes, misconceptions and prejudices of the students I teach. These are the future generations of: adults, parents, doctors, politicians, role models, citizens, and indeed, possibly teachers. These are the people my potential children will look up to and be influenced by, and it worries me. A lot.

I don’t know if you agree (opinions welcome), but as a teacher I believe that as well as delivering curriculum content, managing behaviour, teaching skills and safeguarding these little people, it is my responsibility to be a positive role-model who demonstrates what it is to be a good person. In fact, a big part of me feels compelled to think that this is my most important job. And yet, I don’t know where to begin.

We exist in a broken society, perhaps a society that is only a few steps away from moving towards something quite dark and terrifying. Almost dystopian. Perhaps in some ways it already is. Melodramatic? Maybe. But when I teach lessons about dystopian fiction, about societies that have been broken by vanity, greed, or technology, I cannot help but think of this era of social media that forces even the most aware of us to compare our lives with those that have more, whose lives seem better and to compete in an online popularity contest, obsessed by what people we don’t even know think about the way we look, what we eat, if we’re having fun. I am reminded of the fear, and in some cases hatred, that so many of us feel towards ‘others’; towards those we do not understand, or who appear different to us. I realise that I am surrounded by people who are more concerned with what is going on in the virtual world on the screen glued to their eyes than what is happening in the real world around them, and that sometimes I am guilty of exactly the same. And, I cannot turn a blind eye to the ignorant comments, the inclination to turn to violence to solve issues, the prejudices my students hold against each other, and their sheer disengagement with the world around them.

And so, I’m worried. I’m worried because I feel such huge responsibility to engage them in discussion about meaningful topics; I feel that as maybe one of the most reliable adults in their lives, it is my duty to develop their emotional intelligence and character as well as their academic knowledge and development of skills. Simultaneously, I know that there’s too much to teach. Some days I think I’ve got through, their behaviour has improved or they’ve done a good deed,tidied up after themselves, picked up some litter, held the door open, looked out for each other, been good people, and I swell with pride. Then the next day we’re back to square one: swearing, fighting, judging, disrespecting the environment, their teachers, each other, and I feel helpless.

Nothing I can do is enough. I’m just one woman and I can’t change the world from my classroom in East Cardiff. But I want to. And, I guess, if I believe the world is just a combination of lots of people’s versions of the world, then it is possible for one woman, in one classroom, in one school, in one city, in one country, in the world to change it. Bit by bit.

My question this week is if this little we can do is enough to cause a ripple, a small wave in the minds of young people that eventually will change the world, for the better? I sure hope so.

Miss R x