Dear Teachers.

Dear Teachers,

In the five years I spent at your school, I can honestly say that I am not entirely sure how I came out of it so sane. I was sent to you after my prodigal sister. I am aware (by my parents) that I did not do exceptionally well in my entrance test and certainly not as well as my sister, who came in on a scholarship. However, my grades (or lack of them) did not matter to you. I was my sister’s sister. I had to be good…………right?

But I wasn’t.

I was me. Not her. Yet that was never celebrated.

The first two years of high school, I slipped under the radar. I did okay, I went by unnoticed as did my grades. I excelled in the subjects I thought I would: Drama, Art, Music and English. The complete opposite to her. I was not an academic to you all. I was never part of any social dramas nor did I take any leadership roles, it was easy to forget about me.

I remember when you did notice.

When my grades slipped too far, I became your target. Suddenly, the girl you’d forgotten became the most memorable of all. Especially when you remember who my sister was – your star student. The morning you took me for a walk around the school and down to the hall where the plaques hung showing your most prized pupils of past. Where my sister’s name shone and burned into me. The place where you pointed out what I should be achieving and that I “had a lot to live up to”.

What you didn’t question was why.

Why was this sweet, lively girl’s grades dropping?

Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that my childhood was falling apart. That my home-life was like a war zone. The year was 1996, I was fourteen years old, my mother had just applied for divorce and you decided to put me on report.

You close-minded, arrogant idiots.

The reputation of your school and the notoriety of your name was much more important that a young girl struggling to make sense of her family disintegrating before her eyes. You humiliated me by dragging in my parents to discuss my “future”. Who were you to predict that? While my mother already held me in low regard, you only fuelled her perception of me. I had further disappointed her and as you placed my sister on that righteous pedestal, her place in my mother’s eyes grew stronger. You played a very clear part in the destruction of our relationship and for that I will never forgive you.

There were no positives made. No redeeming features. Humiliation and bullying was your forte. I was lost and no one was reaching out to guide me. No one.

Perhaps, if you had spent more time concerned about the welfare of your students and their emotional well being, I would have better memories of you all.

Sadly, I don’t.

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3 thoughts on “Dear Teachers.

  1. As a teacher, this post bothers me. Please know some are there simply for a paycheck and stability. Others make it a priority to spark, illicit, and encourage. I was the latter and miss being in a classroom everyday. No child should slip through the cracks, year after year.

    1. Sorry it bothers you but thank you for your comment. I too now work in a school and I could never imagine treating a pupil this way. Not only would it go against school policy but as we are so responsible for their well-being and safety, it would be wrong and inconceivable to deal with such a situation in the way I was dealt with. Not all my teachers were like this. I had a lovely time in Primary/Junior School. This was one particular environment with particularly bad teachers. Funnily, I do have good memories of my time there. My Art and Drama teachers were fantastic and supportive and I am thankful for that. My friends and class were great too yet they were unaware of the abuse at home at the time. This happened many, many years ago and teaching in the UK and London has certainly changed since then. I am proud of teachers through the country. Ros

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