Hugh Reilly: Claims teachers are illiterate don't add up

Published on Monday 17 January 2011 14:43

Like most classroom teachers, the weals on my back are now slightly less visible after last week's scourging of the profession in the media. Claims of illiterate chalkies catched the public's attention and matters growed worser when it emerged that many of those trusted to teach our fine young people struggle with basic numeracy.

I can reassure concerned citizens that dominies who don't know their cardinals from their integers are a tiny fraction of classroom practitioners, probably less than 99.9 per cent…

The Scottish Government-backed Donaldson Review of teacher training made 50 recommendations, most of which were roundly ignored by the anti-teacher brigade who, predictably, homed in on the deficiencies of some teachers. To paraphrase Churchill: "Never in the field of constructive criticism have so many been castigated for the sins of so few."

In my opinion, anyone eavesdropping on a typical staffroom conversation could be forgiven for believing they had stumbled across a meeting of the Bloomsbury Group Remembrance Society. In such forums, there is an audible gasp and Mexican wave of raised eyebrows if a teacher - usually a young man or woman, it has to be said - makes a howling grammatical error.

Of course, over the years, I have encountered the odd colleague with a rather idiosyncratic take on English grammar. But when a frustrated teacher is haranguing a malcontent, shouting, "I seen you do it!", I consider it is perhaps not the best time to patronisingly explain the past tenses of "see".

Like most individuals, teachers endeavour to avoid confrontation. For example, if a co-worker has produced a worksheet littered with spelling mistakes and poor syntax, a foolproof strategy employed by Sir is to emend the dodgy teaching material and distribute the imprimatur edition to his own pupils. An alternative, if tad dishonourable, ploy is to loudly admit to students that you are not the originator of this buckled teaching tool. However, should news of your "I am Spartacus"-in-reverse performance reach the ears of your fellow teacher, expect to dine alone in the school canteen.

The Donaldson Review - led by Graham Donaldson, the former chief inspector at HMIE - includes a recommendation for greater care in the selection of trainee teachers. This is to be welcomed. Like it or not, for many kids, teachers are role models. The heavenly, dulcet tones of my English teacher, Mr Henretty, inspired me, as did the eloquence of Mr Lynas - but I've never been able to blot out the flashbacks of listening to Mr Reagan snoring at his desk, having had more than a few nips from the poorly hidden hipflask in his waistcoat pocket.

Donaldson has called for new recruits to undergo psychometric assessment. He believes that teachers should possess excellent interpersonal skills in order to enthuse and engage youngsters in learning. But he does not offer hard evidence that teachers with a personality deficit exist.Admittedly I'm speculating, but it could be the case that Donaldson is basing his assumption on the persona of a trained physics teacher with a high public profile, ie Iain Gray, whose laboured, monotone delivery of killer one-liners must surely have caused his speechwriter to contemplate self-immolation as a serious career move. The forced grins of Labour backbenchers do little to hide their discomfiture - aristocrats heading for the guillotine had a happier disposition.

The First Minister-in-waiting also appears to have a problem with numbers. On his own official website there is an item entitled "SNP cut 2,000 teachers". However, on the Scottish Labour website, there is a photo of Iain Gray, flanked by fellow MSPs, holding a mock blackboard with a set of lines, la the beginning of each episode of The Simpsons, stating "The SNP has cut 3,000 teachers".

Confused? Don't worry; there is a funny side to all of this. Call it coincidence, serendipity - or more likely an advertising man with an impish sense of humour - Dr Richard Simpson is one of the five politicians in the picture.

D'oh!