When I went into teaching, 15 years ago, I came at it from various angles. One was the love of my subject. Genuinely. I definitely believed that I could make people love reading and writing, and make the world a better place. I was old enough not to be so naïve, but still…
The other was a sartorial issue. I did an ill-advised massive spend on tweed. Mostly pink. Should have known better there, too.
I did not go into teaching because ‘I loved kids’. How can you love ‘kids’ any more than you can love octogenarians, or Poles, or pole-dancers, or any other group of people?
I left a good university with a good degree and no one suggested that I should go into teaching. In the 1980s, teachers were thought of as second-rate citizens.
