Age 21 to 36 ... Work
I mentioned earlier that I never really wanted to be a teacher. I just drifted into it, partly the result of following in my sister's footsteps, partly because careers guidance at school was all but non-existent, and partly because I hadn't been sufficiently academic to go off to University. So here I was, a qualified teacher, but with little enthusiasm or ambition for the role that I would fill for the next 36 years of my life.
As my College course came towards its end, the next task I faced was finding a job. For a first teaching post, it was quite common to apply to an Education Authority, and, if they wanted you, to leave it to them to place you in one of their schools. I briefly considered trying to find work in Yorkshire, and then share a house there with one of my College friends, but Yorkshire didn't want me, so that idea came to nothing.
In fact, no-where seemed to want me... I imagine that following my less-than-sparkling College work record, I had a similarly less-than-glowing reference from College. I probably wasn't doing a very good job of writing letters of application either. No-one gave us any lessons on how to sell oneself in an application letter, and it is only in my later life that I learned about job application and interview techniques.
So, when September came along, and I still had no job to start, I began to think about finding something else to do. Then the phone rang - could I attend an interview in Bromley tomorrow? The next day saw me sitting in the Headmaster's office at Bickley Park School. Apparently, a new teacher they had appointed had let them down at the last minute, so my letter of application had been pulled out of the rubbish bin, and could I start immediately?
As my College course came towards its end, the next task I faced was finding a job. For a first teaching post, it was quite common to apply to an Education Authority, and, if they wanted you, to leave it to them to place you in one of their schools. I briefly considered trying to find work in Yorkshire, and then share a house there with one of my College friends, but Yorkshire didn't want me, so that idea came to nothing.
In fact, no-where seemed to want me... I imagine that following my less-than-sparkling College work record, I had a similarly less-than-glowing reference from College. I probably wasn't doing a very good job of writing letters of application either. No-one gave us any lessons on how to sell oneself in an application letter, and it is only in my later life that I learned about job application and interview techniques.
So, when September came along, and I still had no job to start, I began to think about finding something else to do. Then the phone rang - could I attend an interview in Bromley tomorrow? The next day saw me sitting in the Headmaster's office at Bickley Park School. Apparently, a new teacher they had appointed had let them down at the last minute, so my letter of application had been pulled out of the rubbish bin, and could I start immediately?
Bickley Park School, Bromley
In September 1972, at the tender age of 21, I began my teaching career as Art teacher at Bickley Park School. For my services, I was to be paid the salary of £1179.00 per annum, less £300 for residence at the school. The school was a private preparatory school for about 120 boys aged between 8 and 13. Some 20 or so were boarders, the remainder being day pupils. I knew nothing at all about the private school system, so there was a bit of a learning curve involved, but in all honesty, the job could not have been easier. My task was to teach all the boys Art. I had an Art room, which was a large timber-built room in the grounds of the school, which was also used by the boarders as their 'hobbies room' in the evenings. I divided the room into to halves using the furniture, to keep my Art 'work' side separate from the 'play' side. I wasn't given a syllabus or any kind of scheme of work to follow. There was no staff mentoring, or formal induction for new teachers. I was responsible for my own stock, and had my own budget - all quite a lot to cope with for a brand new teacher in his first teaching post.
I have no recollection of what kind of lessons I actually presented to the pupils on my first few days in the job. I really had pretty little idea of what I was doing. But the class sizes were small, and nothing disastrous happened. At the end of each lesson, I was completely bemused as the pupils filed out of my classroom, each of them politely saying, 'thank you for the lesson, sir'. I felt I should be thanking them for behaving appropriately and doing as they were asked! As time went on, I created a kind of plan of what I wanted the boys to achieve, and it wasn't long before I was putting up some of their artwork on the walls, and everyone seemed to be happy with what I was doing.
Life at the school
The school day was a little longer than in state schools, and lessons also took place on Saturday mornings and on one evening a week. In compensation, the holiday periods were longer. Most staff took a part in the teaching of Games. This meant that here was I, who when at school myself, had spent games lessons trying to keep as far from the ball as possible, was now out on the rugby or football pitch encouraging the youngsters to 'get stuck in'. At least it was now OK for me to keep warmly dressed in a tracksuit...
All unmarried staff at the school were offered accommodation on site (see Home>) and the residential status included all meals. Breakfast, lunch and afternoon tea were taken with the pupils, but the evening meal was a staff-only affair, presided over by the Headmaster. Those present at the table for dinner would often be the four resident male and one female teaching staff, the teacher on duty, Matron, and the Headmaster and his wife. The Headmaster sat at the end of a long table and took delight in making a show of carving and serving, while the male staff waited on the females. The cooking was done by a staff cook.
The evening duty was assigned on a rota, all staff taking a turn. The duty teacher was responsible for keeping order among the boarders from the end of school at 4.30 until lights out at 9.30, and then for checking lights and heaters were off and locking up the buildings. The pupils looked after themselves during staff dinner, but they knew where we all were! After dinner, the boarders started having baths and going to bed, the youngest going first. The atmosphere at this time was very different to during the school day. Matron, who was a lively 20-year old, acted as a big sister to all the boys, and from time to time, especially when I was on duty, much fun was had - until the Head's wife appeared with a stern look of disapproval on her face.
The staff at Bickley Park (at least during my time there) were like classic caricatures of teachers you would expect to find in a prep school. Most were ex-public school themselves, a few of them ex-military. One walked with a limp, no doubt the result of a war wound. One, who wore a neatly trimmed handlebar moustache, always spoke in a loud parade ground voice, one, an elderly, small, bent man, held a lit cigarette in his hand, absolutely un-moved, for so long that the whole cigarette would turn to ash before the ash finally collapsed and dropped un-noticed to the carpet. The Latin teacher was tall and bald, the Music teacher was a prim female (the only female teacher on the staff), and the French teacher really was French (or possibly Belgian), spoke with a strong French accent, and was always referred to as 'Monsieur'. Staff room conversations tended to be about current affairs, and were seldom intellectual. Loud arguments were not uncommon. I did not join in.
Moving on
For much of the time that I worked at Bickley Park, I was dating Marian (see Marian>). We became engaged, and did not wish to stay living in the Bromley area after being married, so late in 1974, I started looking for a new job. This time, finding a job was a little easier - having a couple of years experience and a decent reference from my first job made all the difference. I was looking for an Art teaching job in a mainstream secondary school, though location-wise, I was blindly considering pretty much anywhere in the south east of England. As it happened, the job I ended up taking was in Feltham, Middlesex, and I took up my new post at Feltham in April 1975.
The Feltham School, Feltham, Middx.
Teaching at Feltham was about as different from teaching at Bickley as it is possible to get. This was not easy or fun, but the 'real thing', and like so many young teachers faced with classes of secondary-age pupils, for a time, I struggled. Teacher-training College courses offer nothing at all which prepares one for controlling a class of disaffected 14 years olds, or trying to teach them something in which they show little interest, and my couple of pleasant years at Bickley Park had not taught me a great deal to help me in these respects either.
Feltham School lies within the London Borough of Hounslow, and had formed a few years before I started there from the amalgamation of three existing schools, two single-sex secondary modern and a co-educational grammar. Two of the school buildings shared one huge site, while the third was half a mile away, across a main road. The schools overlooked a vast derelict railway sidings site known locally as 'The Forty Acre' and the catchment area of the school included all the council housing estates of Feltham, Hanworth and Bedfont. There were some 2,000 pupils on roll, and over 120 staff. I joined an Art department of five teachers, and because I was not a probationary teacher, or new to the job, I had a full timetable and no special support. My timetable saw me teaching upwards of 400 pupils during the course of each week. Report writing at the end of the summer term was something of a nightmare, though it was possible to get away without writing very much. Parent's evenings were a more serious nightmare. Armed only with my mark book and a copy of the scanty report I had written, I had to sit and talk to parents about their child, who I saw amid a sea of other children for just an hour and twenty minutes each week. I admit that a few times, I really couldn't recall who the child was that I was talking about.
For the first few years of being a new school, the three buildings of Feltham were divided up as 'Lower', 'Middle' and 'Upper'. Logically, the youngest children were housed in 'Lower', and this was where I was initially based, though I was obliged to teach across the whole age range and in all three buildings, which often meant dashing from one building to another at break or lunchtimes. I hated my visits to teach in Middle School, where the 3rd and 4th year pupils (13 and 14 year-olds) were the most unruly. For a while, I was well out of my depth. Many of my lessons were more a case of riot control and survival than actually teaching anything. From time to time, I was forced to enlist the help of senior staff to assist me in my task, and was in awe of their ability to calm an unruly throng of pupils simply by their presence. I had so much to learn, and it was during those first few years at Feltham that I discovered all about how to control a class and then teach the pupils.
Having joined the school at Easter, for the first term I did not have the responsibility of being a form tutor. However, in September 1975, I was given that role, and was gently introduced to the task with a class of 11 year-olds. This arrangement continued for a couple of years, but as time went on, the difficulty that I experienced with teaching in Middle School was being felt by almost all of the staff, and a reorganisation of the school was deemed necessary. Gradually, the school became a somewhat calmer place with the creation of two parallel 11-14 year old schools, with the former Grammar School across the road continuing to be the 'Upper' school. I was moved to be based in the former Middle School building, which had been renamed Lower School East. By now, I had been at the school as long if not longer than many of the pupils, and with time served, one gains respect. I had also sufficiently honed my skills in control to be able to emulate those staff I had so envied in my first year at the school, and I, too, could quell a rebellious crowd just by appearing in a doorway. I had learned to relax and laugh with my pupils, and became form tutor to a class of 14 year olds. That was a good year, and I recall having a great day out with the class to the seaside at Littlehampton at the end of the school year.
In September 1972, at the tender age of 21, I began my teaching career as Art teacher at Bickley Park School. For my services, I was to be paid the salary of £1179.00 per annum, less £300 for residence at the school. The school was a private preparatory school for about 120 boys aged between 8 and 13. Some 20 or so were boarders, the remainder being day pupils. I knew nothing at all about the private school system, so there was a bit of a learning curve involved, but in all honesty, the job could not have been easier. My task was to teach all the boys Art. I had an Art room, which was a large timber-built room in the grounds of the school, which was also used by the boarders as their 'hobbies room' in the evenings. I divided the room into to halves using the furniture, to keep my Art 'work' side separate from the 'play' side. I wasn't given a syllabus or any kind of scheme of work to follow. There was no staff mentoring, or formal induction for new teachers. I was responsible for my own stock, and had my own budget - all quite a lot to cope with for a brand new teacher in his first teaching post.
I have no recollection of what kind of lessons I actually presented to the pupils on my first few days in the job. I really had pretty little idea of what I was doing. But the class sizes were small, and nothing disastrous happened. At the end of each lesson, I was completely bemused as the pupils filed out of my classroom, each of them politely saying, 'thank you for the lesson, sir'. I felt I should be thanking them for behaving appropriately and doing as they were asked! As time went on, I created a kind of plan of what I wanted the boys to achieve, and it wasn't long before I was putting up some of their artwork on the walls, and everyone seemed to be happy with what I was doing.
Life at the school
The school day was a little longer than in state schools, and lessons also took place on Saturday mornings and on one evening a week. In compensation, the holiday periods were longer. Most staff took a part in the teaching of Games. This meant that here was I, who when at school myself, had spent games lessons trying to keep as far from the ball as possible, was now out on the rugby or football pitch encouraging the youngsters to 'get stuck in'. At least it was now OK for me to keep warmly dressed in a tracksuit...
All unmarried staff at the school were offered accommodation on site (see Home>) and the residential status included all meals. Breakfast, lunch and afternoon tea were taken with the pupils, but the evening meal was a staff-only affair, presided over by the Headmaster. Those present at the table for dinner would often be the four resident male and one female teaching staff, the teacher on duty, Matron, and the Headmaster and his wife. The Headmaster sat at the end of a long table and took delight in making a show of carving and serving, while the male staff waited on the females. The cooking was done by a staff cook.
The evening duty was assigned on a rota, all staff taking a turn. The duty teacher was responsible for keeping order among the boarders from the end of school at 4.30 until lights out at 9.30, and then for checking lights and heaters were off and locking up the buildings. The pupils looked after themselves during staff dinner, but they knew where we all were! After dinner, the boarders started having baths and going to bed, the youngest going first. The atmosphere at this time was very different to during the school day. Matron, who was a lively 20-year old, acted as a big sister to all the boys, and from time to time, especially when I was on duty, much fun was had - until the Head's wife appeared with a stern look of disapproval on her face.
The staff at Bickley Park (at least during my time there) were like classic caricatures of teachers you would expect to find in a prep school. Most were ex-public school themselves, a few of them ex-military. One walked with a limp, no doubt the result of a war wound. One, who wore a neatly trimmed handlebar moustache, always spoke in a loud parade ground voice, one, an elderly, small, bent man, held a lit cigarette in his hand, absolutely un-moved, for so long that the whole cigarette would turn to ash before the ash finally collapsed and dropped un-noticed to the carpet. The Latin teacher was tall and bald, the Music teacher was a prim female (the only female teacher on the staff), and the French teacher really was French (or possibly Belgian), spoke with a strong French accent, and was always referred to as 'Monsieur'. Staff room conversations tended to be about current affairs, and were seldom intellectual. Loud arguments were not uncommon. I did not join in.
Moving on
For much of the time that I worked at Bickley Park, I was dating Marian (see Marian>). We became engaged, and did not wish to stay living in the Bromley area after being married, so late in 1974, I started looking for a new job. This time, finding a job was a little easier - having a couple of years experience and a decent reference from my first job made all the difference. I was looking for an Art teaching job in a mainstream secondary school, though location-wise, I was blindly considering pretty much anywhere in the south east of England. As it happened, the job I ended up taking was in Feltham, Middlesex, and I took up my new post at Feltham in April 1975.
The Feltham School, Feltham, Middx.
Teaching at Feltham was about as different from teaching at Bickley as it is possible to get. This was not easy or fun, but the 'real thing', and like so many young teachers faced with classes of secondary-age pupils, for a time, I struggled. Teacher-training College courses offer nothing at all which prepares one for controlling a class of disaffected 14 years olds, or trying to teach them something in which they show little interest, and my couple of pleasant years at Bickley Park had not taught me a great deal to help me in these respects either.
Feltham School lies within the London Borough of Hounslow, and had formed a few years before I started there from the amalgamation of three existing schools, two single-sex secondary modern and a co-educational grammar. Two of the school buildings shared one huge site, while the third was half a mile away, across a main road. The schools overlooked a vast derelict railway sidings site known locally as 'The Forty Acre' and the catchment area of the school included all the council housing estates of Feltham, Hanworth and Bedfont. There were some 2,000 pupils on roll, and over 120 staff. I joined an Art department of five teachers, and because I was not a probationary teacher, or new to the job, I had a full timetable and no special support. My timetable saw me teaching upwards of 400 pupils during the course of each week. Report writing at the end of the summer term was something of a nightmare, though it was possible to get away without writing very much. Parent's evenings were a more serious nightmare. Armed only with my mark book and a copy of the scanty report I had written, I had to sit and talk to parents about their child, who I saw amid a sea of other children for just an hour and twenty minutes each week. I admit that a few times, I really couldn't recall who the child was that I was talking about.
For the first few years of being a new school, the three buildings of Feltham were divided up as 'Lower', 'Middle' and 'Upper'. Logically, the youngest children were housed in 'Lower', and this was where I was initially based, though I was obliged to teach across the whole age range and in all three buildings, which often meant dashing from one building to another at break or lunchtimes. I hated my visits to teach in Middle School, where the 3rd and 4th year pupils (13 and 14 year-olds) were the most unruly. For a while, I was well out of my depth. Many of my lessons were more a case of riot control and survival than actually teaching anything. From time to time, I was forced to enlist the help of senior staff to assist me in my task, and was in awe of their ability to calm an unruly throng of pupils simply by their presence. I had so much to learn, and it was during those first few years at Feltham that I discovered all about how to control a class and then teach the pupils.
Having joined the school at Easter, for the first term I did not have the responsibility of being a form tutor. However, in September 1975, I was given that role, and was gently introduced to the task with a class of 11 year-olds. This arrangement continued for a couple of years, but as time went on, the difficulty that I experienced with teaching in Middle School was being felt by almost all of the staff, and a reorganisation of the school was deemed necessary. Gradually, the school became a somewhat calmer place with the creation of two parallel 11-14 year old schools, with the former Grammar School across the road continuing to be the 'Upper' school. I was moved to be based in the former Middle School building, which had been renamed Lower School East. By now, I had been at the school as long if not longer than many of the pupils, and with time served, one gains respect. I had also sufficiently honed my skills in control to be able to emulate those staff I had so envied in my first year at the school, and I, too, could quell a rebellious crowd just by appearing in a doorway. I had learned to relax and laugh with my pupils, and became form tutor to a class of 14 year olds. That was a good year, and I recall having a great day out with the class to the seaside at Littlehampton at the end of the school year.
In 1978, in addition to my role as Art teacher, I was given the opportunity to become an assessor for the Art GCSE examination for the London Examination Board. This involved visiting schools in a designated area of London, and grading the exam work produced by the GCSE students. I worked a lot in the boroughs of Hammersmith, Kensington and Chelsea, where there was a high immigrant population. This made an interesting contrast to the largely white British Feltham school population. The task took me out of my school for a couple of weeks towards the end of each summer term, and provided a valuable insight into how other schools were delivering the Art GCSE. It was also a great opportunity to meet and talk to other Art teachers in other schools, and I continued the assessing job for several years - well after I left Feltham.
Someone in management must have recognised that I had a flair for connecting with pupils who were struggling, and for my next four years at Feltham, I was given the task of being mentor and form tutor to a nurture group of pupils who were in need of special support. I also continued to teach Art throughout the age range. In spite of becoming settled in my role at the school, I never truly found my feet at Feltham. I tended to keep myself to myself, and although I had good working relationships with many of the staff, I did not socialise with any of them. I found the staff rooms quite lonely places. Maybe the school was too big for me? I suspect some of the pupils were also intimidated by the sheer numbers of other children who surrounded them.
Special Needs?
By the time my Nurture Group were age 15, the year was 1982, and Feltham school was being reorganised again. A combination of 'concrete cancer' leading to one of the school buildings being condemned as an unsafe structure, and a falling school roll led to a plan to relocate the school, mostly in new buildings, on the Grammar School site, and the new incarnation of the school would have significantly fewer pupils. This, in turn, meant there would be a need for fewer staff, and all staff were interviewed internally, to consider their opportunities either within the new Feltham School, or elsewhere. At my interview, the Deputy Head I was talking with almost immediately suggested it was time I was looking for a promotion, and pointed out that a Teacher In Charge of Art post was available at a Special School within the Borough.
At the time, I had never thought that I could see myself working in a Special School with pupils with Special Needs, but I was sent off to have a look at the school. I spent an afternoon at Busch House, during which time I toured the school, chatted with the Head and Deputy, and spent time sitting in on a few lessons. At the end of the afternoon, I was offered the job, and I accepted it. I never had a formal interview.
I was quite sad to eventually leave Feltham School at the end of the summer term 1982, having spent nearly eight years working there. I was now age 31.
Busch House School, Isleworth
Busch House School opened in 1938 as an 'Open Air' school for children who were deemed to be 'Delicate'. By the 1980s, and my arrival at the school, the original wooden classrooms with their huge fold-back windows, for letting in all that healthy air (it was probably not so polluted in the 1930s) were still in use, and a practical block, incorporating a Craft workshop, Home Economics room, Needlecraft room and Art room had been built. All these classrooms stood within the high-walled tree-filled grounds of Busch House itself - which is a small Georgian mansion. The ground floor of the house was used for assemblies and as a dining hall, with the upper floors being the caretaker's accommodation. The school catered for pupils aged 5 to 16, but I was only involved with the Secondary age pupils, aged 11 and upwards. The Special Needs designation of the school had by now become 'Children with Emotional and Behavioural Difficulties', though I have to add that the needs of the majority of the pupils were not severe, and the majority of them would have been placed in mainstream school had they been of school age 20 years later.
Someone in management must have recognised that I had a flair for connecting with pupils who were struggling, and for my next four years at Feltham, I was given the task of being mentor and form tutor to a nurture group of pupils who were in need of special support. I also continued to teach Art throughout the age range. In spite of becoming settled in my role at the school, I never truly found my feet at Feltham. I tended to keep myself to myself, and although I had good working relationships with many of the staff, I did not socialise with any of them. I found the staff rooms quite lonely places. Maybe the school was too big for me? I suspect some of the pupils were also intimidated by the sheer numbers of other children who surrounded them.
Special Needs?
By the time my Nurture Group were age 15, the year was 1982, and Feltham school was being reorganised again. A combination of 'concrete cancer' leading to one of the school buildings being condemned as an unsafe structure, and a falling school roll led to a plan to relocate the school, mostly in new buildings, on the Grammar School site, and the new incarnation of the school would have significantly fewer pupils. This, in turn, meant there would be a need for fewer staff, and all staff were interviewed internally, to consider their opportunities either within the new Feltham School, or elsewhere. At my interview, the Deputy Head I was talking with almost immediately suggested it was time I was looking for a promotion, and pointed out that a Teacher In Charge of Art post was available at a Special School within the Borough.
At the time, I had never thought that I could see myself working in a Special School with pupils with Special Needs, but I was sent off to have a look at the school. I spent an afternoon at Busch House, during which time I toured the school, chatted with the Head and Deputy, and spent time sitting in on a few lessons. At the end of the afternoon, I was offered the job, and I accepted it. I never had a formal interview.
I was quite sad to eventually leave Feltham School at the end of the summer term 1982, having spent nearly eight years working there. I was now age 31.
Busch House School, Isleworth
Busch House School opened in 1938 as an 'Open Air' school for children who were deemed to be 'Delicate'. By the 1980s, and my arrival at the school, the original wooden classrooms with their huge fold-back windows, for letting in all that healthy air (it was probably not so polluted in the 1930s) were still in use, and a practical block, incorporating a Craft workshop, Home Economics room, Needlecraft room and Art room had been built. All these classrooms stood within the high-walled tree-filled grounds of Busch House itself - which is a small Georgian mansion. The ground floor of the house was used for assemblies and as a dining hall, with the upper floors being the caretaker's accommodation. The school catered for pupils aged 5 to 16, but I was only involved with the Secondary age pupils, aged 11 and upwards. The Special Needs designation of the school had by now become 'Children with Emotional and Behavioural Difficulties', though I have to add that the needs of the majority of the pupils were not severe, and the majority of them would have been placed in mainstream school had they been of school age 20 years later.
My role at the school was to be a class teacher about half of the time, and Art teacher, to the whole senior school, for the rest of the time. In my first year at the school, my class were the 11 year olds, and we had a classroom tucked away in the corner of the grounds next to the school's library. There were fewer than a dozen pupils in each class, so the children benefited from a quieter atmosphere and considerably greater teacher input than would be the case if they were in mainstream school.
I inherited from my predecessor, a small senior school Art group who were part-way into their GCSE course. Art GCSE grades were awarded by visiting assessors who came to each school to look at an exhibition of a range of the student's course work, in addition to a 'timed test' piece of work, which was carried out at the end of the course under exam conditions. The Art teacher I was replacing had not been very familiar with the GCSE system, and the students were somewhat disenchanted with their coursework. My presence was something akin to a breath of fresh air for them, and the standard of their work came on in leaps and bounds. Younger pupils tended to look up to the senior students, and seeing the older students enjoying their Art work, and proudly displaying their coursework, did me a great favour. Art rapidly became a fashionable subject within the school, and I thoroughly enjoyed teaching my enthusiastic classes.
My Art room was very small, but well equipped, and included a pottery kiln and electric wheel. Apart from a very brief 'go' on a wheel while on teaching practice in my College days, I had no experience of, or knowledge about pottery. However, there were a few books on the subject on the Art room bookshelf, and I signed up for pottery evening classes at a local secondary school, and did a bit of learning. It wasn't long before little items of pottery were being produced by the pupils along with some very presentable drawing and painting. There were a number of talented pupils at the school, and I was thrilled every year at GCSE results time to see many of my pupils achieve a high grade in Art.
The staff room at Busch House was a very different place to that of Bickley Park or Feltham, and a very much friendlier place. At Busch House, the staff included teachers of the younger junior-age pupils, as well as the secondary school staff, and the majority of staff were female. Unlike most schools, where teachers remain in their classrooms after the pupils have gone home, tidying, planning or preparing, at Busch House, it was customary for the staff to return to the staff room at the end of the teaching day, largely to unwind. Conversation was wide ranging, and often lively and intelligent. Although I still did not mix my work life with my social life to any great extent, I did become very close friends with one of my colleagues from Busch House, a friendship which has strengthened over time, and I am sure will last to the end of our lives.
I left Busch House in July 1988, when my marriage to Marian had ended and I was moving to live and work in Kent. I was then just 37. I had very much enjoyed my time at the school. Working there, and talking with the staff, had taught me so much about educating pupils with Special Needs, and I was now adamant that I would never return to full-time teaching in a mainstream school.
Age 36 - 45 years; Work>
I inherited from my predecessor, a small senior school Art group who were part-way into their GCSE course. Art GCSE grades were awarded by visiting assessors who came to each school to look at an exhibition of a range of the student's course work, in addition to a 'timed test' piece of work, which was carried out at the end of the course under exam conditions. The Art teacher I was replacing had not been very familiar with the GCSE system, and the students were somewhat disenchanted with their coursework. My presence was something akin to a breath of fresh air for them, and the standard of their work came on in leaps and bounds. Younger pupils tended to look up to the senior students, and seeing the older students enjoying their Art work, and proudly displaying their coursework, did me a great favour. Art rapidly became a fashionable subject within the school, and I thoroughly enjoyed teaching my enthusiastic classes.
My Art room was very small, but well equipped, and included a pottery kiln and electric wheel. Apart from a very brief 'go' on a wheel while on teaching practice in my College days, I had no experience of, or knowledge about pottery. However, there were a few books on the subject on the Art room bookshelf, and I signed up for pottery evening classes at a local secondary school, and did a bit of learning. It wasn't long before little items of pottery were being produced by the pupils along with some very presentable drawing and painting. There were a number of talented pupils at the school, and I was thrilled every year at GCSE results time to see many of my pupils achieve a high grade in Art.
The staff room at Busch House was a very different place to that of Bickley Park or Feltham, and a very much friendlier place. At Busch House, the staff included teachers of the younger junior-age pupils, as well as the secondary school staff, and the majority of staff were female. Unlike most schools, where teachers remain in their classrooms after the pupils have gone home, tidying, planning or preparing, at Busch House, it was customary for the staff to return to the staff room at the end of the teaching day, largely to unwind. Conversation was wide ranging, and often lively and intelligent. Although I still did not mix my work life with my social life to any great extent, I did become very close friends with one of my colleagues from Busch House, a friendship which has strengthened over time, and I am sure will last to the end of our lives.
I left Busch House in July 1988, when my marriage to Marian had ended and I was moving to live and work in Kent. I was then just 37. I had very much enjoyed my time at the school. Working there, and talking with the staff, had taught me so much about educating pupils with Special Needs, and I was now adamant that I would never return to full-time teaching in a mainstream school.
Age 36 - 45 years; Work>