Teachers show their comic credentials

TEACHERS are used to pupils firing cheeky comments across the classroom. But the next time they respond to the wisecracks by saying, "So you think you’re a comedian, do you?", the child will have a ready come-back: "No, miss, you are."

The response to a competition taking place this weekend suggests that these days, the class comic is more likely to be a teacher than a pupil.

One-third of the entries in the contest to launch a new female comedian have come from women teachers.

So is it a desperate bid to escape the horrors of the chalkface or just an indication that teachers need to be mentally sharp to cope in class?

Whatever, the entrants in the Scottish heat of Funny Women are hoping to follow in the footsteps of Elaine C Smith, Dawn French and Jennifer Saunders, who all exchanged chalk for greasepaint.

But Smith, best-known as Mary Doll in Rab C Nesbit and a former drama teacher at Firrhill High School, in Edinburgh, said the stage could be far harder than the classroom: "After Larkhall miner’s club, class 2C on a Friday afternoon didn’t seem so hard."

She suggested promotion up the ranks in education as a better escape route. "You do less work, have less stress and get to hide in an office away from the kids."

However, if stand-up is the chosen escape route, there is at least the prospect of applause at the end of a performance, she said. "In teaching, you know you’re doing something right if they haven’t thrown things at you for ten minutes."

But there are many similarities between stand-up and teaching, she said. "Actors and teachers have big egos. They like people to sit quietly and listen to them for an hour."

If you feel that in the end things like a pension and regular income are dispensable, the actor from a Lanarkshire mining village encourages teachers and others to see the stage as "not just for posh folk".

Alan McLean, the principal educational psychologist with Glasgow City Council, said he is intrigued by the number of entries for the Scottish heat of Funny Women, run by Babycham, which takes place at the Madcap Comedy Club, in Glasgow. "Most women don’t think they are funny and can never remember jokes. I’ve always thought that was because telling jokes wasn’t as important to women as it is to men for status," he said.

He said humour was a key sign of emotional intelligence, the ability to read situations and people.

Mr McLean, who is about to publish a book, The Motivated School, said a lively sense of humour is an asset in the classroom. Teachers who can share jokes with pupils will be less likely to have their authority challenged, he claimed.

Humour signals that they don’t take themselves too seriously and it avoids any suggestion of pomposity and superiority. Laughter signals trust and a shared sense of purpose. It can also help soften a potentially threatening critical message, he said.

Matt McIver, the chief executive of the General Teaching Council for Scotland, who is known for his own ability to deliver that elusive thing - an education speech which is not po-faced, said of the competition: "I am delighted, reassured and probably amazed that at the end of another hard session, teachers still manage to retain their sense of humour."

Hugh Reilly, a columnist on The Scotsman whose day job is teaching in an inner-city secondary, said: "Some classes are really tough gigs."

Mr Reilly believes that humour is used as a defence mechanism by the vulnerable - like Woody Allen making bullies laugh or camp comics such as Julian Clary trying to fend off a homophobic crowd.

He said teachers are frustrated actors, well-used to working an audience and having to fly by the seat of their pants at times. "They must be quick- witted to save face. A hard man in one of my classes was annoyed after he had been banned from a trip to the parliament. He shouted out: ‘When you’re in Edinburgh, you'll be goin’ to the brothels.’ Cue big laugh from his audience.

"I replied: ‘You’re right and I'll say hello to yer maw for ye.’ Cue bigger laughter."

Julie Austin, the director of Strathclyde University’s BA in Community Arts, suggested a course on stand-up comedy could be included in the new raft of in-service training modules for teachers.

It is a small step from dealing with heckling in a club to dealing with wisecracks in the classroom. A veteran stand-up might have tips on comic timing and one liners to diffuse tense situations, she said.

Traffic could be two way, she suggested. Teachers might consider moonlighting under the limelight. "It might provide some relief from the pressure in the classroom - and indeed the staffroom."