Interfering

I think every teacher fights to control the urge to interfere. Sitting on the train, the conductor’s phone rang (apparently his better half was called – he had downloaded a humorous ring-tone featuring a klaxon and a voice repeating ‘Warning: It’s the wife!’). As he conducted the conversation at maximum volume I didn’t feel guilty about eavesdropping (it would in any case have been impossible not to), and listened as he reprimanded his daughter who, it emerged, had punched another girl at school. He then spoke to his wife about what to do with their little girl. It was a touching conversation between two clearly loving parents who were doing their best to do the right thing despite the fact that the father figure was on a late shift marshalling people on and off trains in Docklands. And, as always, I had to resist the urge to tell him how impressed I was that he was supporting the efforts of teachers to help his daughter. Absolutely none of my business, quite obviously. And yet you still feel the connection because you have had countless phone calls with parents in exactly the same situation about daughters with exactly the same problems. Teaching connects you with everyone, either directly or indirectly, because wherever they are, kids need their parents and teachers to work together. And when you see this collaboration happening, you know that somewhere a teacher cares enough to make the call and hopefully set in motion a chain of events which might eventually go some way to setting things right. And that matters.