THE UNSUNG HEROES OF EDUCATION
Here we all sit in the staffroom, each colleague more drained than the last: the unsung heroes of education. The holidays are almost upon us and we’re all gasping for air like a bunch of pensioners. Our illustrious little group dedicates itself every day to imparting some knowledge to the sons and daughters of the Netherlands, and it doesn’t leave us unscathed. Teaching is what we signed up for, but the reality is rather different. Alongside being teachers, we are also coaches, confidants, parenting advisers, educationalists, didacticians and psychologists.
What exactly characterises an unsung hero, I hear you ask. This term was bestowed upon my colleagues and me by an overpriced, tax-funded failed motivational speaker. As grown professionals, we were made to dance in the plenary hall to get in touch with our inner selves. We were characterised as the type of people who want to save the world but are incapable of saving themselves. This hero behaviour is nowhere more apparent than in my own tutor group.
This year my tutor group included several children with a full bingo card of conditions: ASD, ADD, ADHD, GAD, DLD, ODD, DCD, and even a budding psychopath. The latter was something I only encountered during my student days in the television series Dexter, but I can assure you they do exist, and in greater numbers than you might think. I took the accelerated teacher training programme, and I suspect I was off sick for the lecture on ‘how to deal with a budding psychopath’.
What exactly characterises an unsung hero, I hear you ask. This term was bestowed upon my colleagues and me by an overpriced, tax-funded failed motivational speaker. As grown professionals, we were made to dance in the plenary hall to get in touch with our inner selves. We were characterised as the type of people who want to save the world but are incapable of saving themselves. This hero behaviour is nowhere more apparent than in my own tutor group.
This year my tutor group included several children with a full bingo card of conditions: ASD, ADD, ADHD, GAD, DLD, ODD, DCD, and even a budding psychopath. The latter was something I only encountered during my student days in the television series Dexter, but I can assure you they do exist, and in greater numbers than you might think. I took the accelerated teacher training programme, and I suspect I was off sick for the lecture on ‘how to deal with a budding psychopath’.
This is characteristic of inclusive education. Inclusive education stems from structural cuts to special education, as a result of which children with multiple disorders or high-risk behaviour are also placed in mainstream schools, simply because there is nowhere else for them to go. Highly qualified educational psychologists – who, incidentally, are not required to teach – sell this by arguing that it is good for the child to grow up in a heterogeneous environment. What this sales pitch fails to address is the effect on the ‘typical’ children. Children begin to feel unsafe in the classroom, or sense that the teacher’s attention is directed overwhelmingly towards the children with behavioural disorders. They start to mimic that behaviour in order to get the teacher’s attention too, or worse: the ‘typical’ pupil withdraws into invisibility. None of this matters, apparently, because ‘typical’ children simply have to learn to cope with diversity.
Fortunately, we – the unsung heroes of education – are unlicensed psychologists, and we have been given sufficient guidance by these educational psychologists to support these children with complex needs in a professional manner. As an unsung hero, you efface yourself, which can lead to an enormous workload and stress. And then, just when despair is close at hand, you receive that one smile or that small gesture of appreciation from one of your pupils. Then you know you have been a positive influence in someone’s life, if only as an anecdote. Then you know, deep down, that being an unsung hero in education is the finest profession in the world.
Fortunately, we – the unsung heroes of education – are unlicensed psychologists, and we have been given sufficient guidance by these educational psychologists to support these children with complex needs in a professional manner. As an unsung hero, you efface yourself, which can lead to an enormous workload and stress. And then, just when despair is close at hand, you receive that one smile or that small gesture of appreciation from one of your pupils. Then you know you have been a positive influence in someone’s life, if only as an anecdote. Then you know, deep down, that being an unsung hero in education is the finest profession in the world.
(To be continued.)
Frank Berg, biology teacher (lower and upper school, MAVO/HAVO/VWO) at the Dr Aletta Jacobs College in Hoogezand.
The above is an abridged version; the issue of Bionieuws dated 4 July incorrectly gave the impression that a more extensive account of Berg’s school year would appear on the website (for which we apologise).