When I became a teacher I had to learn a lot, and fast.  Teachers' College was useless when it came to helping us deal with the actual classroom and day-to-day situations. We spent two years on educational theory and other academic abstractions, unconnected, as usual, to reality.


Being a fairly opinionated and outspoken person, I decided very early on, that it would be wrong of me to use the classroom as a platform for my views.  I am pleased to say that I never did preach to my pupils, on any issue.  Yes, I questioned their views and played "devil's advocate" on many occasions, but I did not state my beliefs.  Expressing enthusiasm for one's interests is a far cry from stating an opinion on political or religious issues.


This was very important when I came to teach public speaking to adults, for if the students knew my opinion on a particular subject, they would be less likely to speak against my view, fearing, unnecessarily, that I would be subjective in my judgement of them.  For a start, I was more interested in how they spoke than the content of their speeches.  I used to say to classes, at the outset:
"If you have an unpopular viewpoint, by all means express it, as long as you can support it with evidence."
I wanted no censorship and by not expressing my personal outlook on any issue, the students felt free to state their opinion on any issue.


One regret I do have about my teaching life is that I talked too much, a failing, I think, of many teachers.  But unlike many teachers, I didn't use my talking as a means of disseminating my beliefs.
Too many teachers I have known or heard of, abuse their power by preaching to classes.  By all means question, but don't attempt to indoctrinate.  That is not what teaching is all about, no matter how committed the teacher is to their cause.

This week I wish to post a wonderful poem by Kahlil Gibran.  It is mainly addressed to parents, but its truth is universal:


Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.


You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot
visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.


You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
...
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness

My experiences as a teacher, especially as a teacher of public speaking, have revealed how vital self-confidence is to all achievements.
Self-confidence and ego are different things.  Self-confidence simply recognises one's abilities, potential and limitations, whereas ego is so insecure it must prove itself regularly, with displays of strength, knowledge, power.


I taught a teenage boy years ago who was never arrogant because he was so self-confident.  When he spoke to his peers, they listened.  When he joked with a teacher, he knew exactly how far to go. His self-confidence made him well liked and respected. He had his vulnerable side, but it was not large.
Building confidence in one's students is, I believe, an important part of a teacher's job.  I have found that a little bit of praise goes a lot further than a heap of criticism.


A story on this issue that comes to mind is one from Summerhill School.  Neill, the head, was concerned about a new arrival at the school, a boy of about 12.  He lacked confidence so much he became quickly anti-social and didn't attend any lessons.  One day, as Neill was looking out the window of his office, he saw this boy spit a tremendous distance.  So the next day, Neill announced that at 1pm there would be a spitting contest.  Needless to say, the boy won and soon afterwards began attending lessons and mixing happily with the other pupils.
By finding the boy's one 'strength' and boosting it, he had also helped boost his self-confidence.  Unusual though the method was, it worked.
When I repeated this tale to a headteacher years ago, he snorted:
"A spitting contest!" - missing the point of the story completely.

The anthropologist Malinowski discovered many interesting aspects of the society of the Trobriands, part of the Solomon Islands of Melanesia.


One of the most curious customs was how children are brought up.   The parents remain their children's playmates throughout the early years and beyond.  All authority, all boundaries are set by the uncles, aunts and cousins of the children.  This notion runs counter to modern Western thinking, where parents are both the playmates and authority, and reject vehemently any outside criticism or interference in their parenting.  This creates a problem for the children.  One moment they are being hugged and told how much they are loved, and the next moment they are being shouted at by the same person, and told they are bad for transgressing a parental rule.  This 'angel/devil' approach helps create a psychological schism and can lead to all kinds of mental conflicts later on.


If the people who are your first guardians bring you up with unconditional love, while others impose the necessary discipline, these conflicting images of parents and oneself would not exist.
Some say that this creates two sets of people for the child - parents who are loved, and others who are hated.  But if restrictions on behaviour are administered with sense and sensitivity, the child will accept these boundaries more willingly than if they are enforced with threats and punishments.


The Trobriands are a much happier people than most of us Westerners are.  I believe it's all in the upbringing.