Put Your Hand Up If You Need Help – Unless You’re A Teacher
Who can ignore the implicit plea of a raised hand? Unfortunately, that rather depends on who's at the other end of it, says Tom Starkey…
- by Tom Starkey
“I need some help.”
It’s a variation of a statement uttered countless times in the classroom. Some hands shoot up like rockets, their owners confident that all will become clear if they only make their problem known. Others snake up, then back down, then up again – unsure as to the validity of their question, their position or themselves.
And we go to them (unless it’s Devon. Devon’s got that smirk on his face that he gets when he’s figured out how to phrase a question in such a way as to turn it into a particularly disgusting double entendre, so you’re tactically ignoring him as to not give him the satisfaction). We go to them because it’s our job and we can help.
We want them to do their best, and we can go some part way to guiding them. Let’s not beat around the bush here – there’s a kick to be had by sending these kids on their way to the fabled land of understanding. It would be a pretty awful teacher who ignored these requests for a bit of assistance.
(Unless it’s Devon. C’mon Devon, seriously kid, pack it in. Ugh.)
An unholy smokescreen
And yet, when teachers are struggling, and take the step of asking for a little bit of support themselves, the response can be a tad less, well… responsive.
Workload where the load is just too much work; behaviour that’s anything but golden; numerous other pressures that often befall us – it’s difficult to ask for help in these situations, as something about the job means that such a request can be extremely painful to make.
We often internalise the problems we encounter and view them as indicators of weakness and failure in ourselves, rather than the systems that we find ourselves in. This can be sadly further reinforced by the weird concept, still held dear by many, that children are mere programmable puppets – that if we pull the correct strings, we can make them dance, sing and leave the greater influences of their home lives behind them, just with a swift tug or two.
Basically, it can take a lot for us, as teachers, to put our hands up – and even once we get over that initial hurdle, there’s no guarantee that help will be forthcoming.
Unrealistic expectations of what teachers can do in the hours they have in (and out) of school; a blame culture that shifts what are obviously institutional problems onto individuals; a reliance on goodwill to paper over cracks that are readily apparent; plus a blind adherence to systems that disregard the reality of a situation.
There’s also – let’s continue to be honest here, as I’m in full-on rant mode – a tendency for us teachers to put up with things that we really shouldn’t be putting up with for the good of the kids, whatever that means.
These elements all combine to produce an unholy smokescreen of excuses as to why we should just shut up, think ourselves lucky and get the hell on with it.
Adjust your expectations
We wouldn’t do this to the kids (I’d probably do it to Devon, but honestly, it’s sheer filth that comes out of his mouth most times) – and yet, for the reasons listed and more, it’s often the case that we put up with it ourselves. More than that, it’s expected that we put up with it.
So often, we do. Right up until the point where we can’t any more.
I’m not saying this happens everywhere. There are places which readily accept the responsibility and importance of providing support to their staff. There are places that really value those who work with children, thereby valuing the children themselves.
Similarly, there are places where those who are struggling are able to tell others about it, safe in the knowledge that they will be listened to. All that will happen is that judgement will be minimal, and help soon forthcoming. There are places where a great deal of hard work has gone into shaping a culture and ethos that allows, and even encourages, staff to put their hand up. As it should be.
Perhaps we need to start treating this type of workplace as an expectation ourselves, as something that we should be taking for granted. If standards fall short, or there’s something amiss within the system or culture in which we find ourselves, it should give us serious pause for thought as to what’s going on, and make us question whether we want to be part of it.
When our children put their hands up, they expect to be helped. Why not the same for us?
Thanks for reading.
Tom Starkey is a teacher in an FE college in the north of England; he blogs at stackofmarking.wordpress.com and tweets as @tstarkey1212
