Inspirational teacher – The educator who transformed me
John Lawson reflects on how the best teachers turn us into better people, via values and philosophies that are still applicable decades on…
- by John Lawson
42 years ago, on a balmy September evening, I embarked on a barmy seven-year quest to become a Roman Catholic priest.
I remember sitting in a chapel, clutching a battered breviary bedecked with ribbons, listening to the red-necked rector ranting about academic and spiritual commitment, and the reckless challenge of celibacy.
He was in full drill sergeant mode: “It’s my job to turn you pond scum into real disciples of Christ… Only one in eight of you whippersnappers will be ordained…”
I quietly prayed for the forlorn souls who wouldn’t be collared.
Alongside me were 61 other youngish hopefuls not considered smart enough to study ‘ologies’ at major seminaries. Bishops had dispatched us here to get our O and A Levels. So could these infamous Jesuit scholastics turn us ‘school loathers’ on to holiness and academia?
A seminary legend
The following Monday morning, I found myself in a classroom that reeked of garlic with 30 other gagging greenhorns. Enter Fr ‘Jacko’ Hughes to teach us Latin. Everybody stood. Jacko was a seminary legend.
An hour later, I’d translated my first story from Ecce Romani – in which Marcus memorably tells his younger brother, ‘Look at me, Sextus, I’m a big boy mounting my horse.’
Fr. Hughes deftly transcended the smutty double entendres that so tickled our funny bones. He was oblivious to differentiated worksheets, mind maps, group learning, metacognition, or any other trending academic strategies. If he ever composed his lesson plans, he was careful to never let it show.
While Fr. Jacko desperately hung on to his own life (he chewed raw garlic for his dodgy ticker), he changed mine. So what made him such an inspirational teacher?
First off, he signposted respect as a two-way street. We were never made to feel like empty-headed dummies into which knowledge needed to be poured.
He also possessed another stellar skill that too many teachers lack – being able to really listen.
Some teachers can be so busy in their telling that they become impaired listeners. As I nervously prepared to attend Confession, he said to me, “Please don’t confess your sins. God forgives when you are truly penitent and prepared to forgive yourself.”
I’d apparently wasted hours on carefully crafting my Confession, but I’d also learned a priceless lesson.
Consistent application
Fr. Hughes liked to keep things simple. He insisted that we learn five new Latin words daily, and no more. One of his sharpest insights into academic success was “Behave yourself and apply yourself. Look, listen, and learn.” How many students now are still yet to learn these game-changing skills?
Over time, this inspirational teacher shared other priceless secrets of success that subsequently transformed me. ‘Know thyself’; ‘Want it’; ‘Show up every day’; ‘Work hard, never quit’; ‘Trust the process’; and ‘Be ready when Lady Luck calls, because she rarely does callbacks’.
Jacko believed that sensible and consistent application carried greater clout than silver spoons. He was horrified when I once told him how late into the night I’d been studying. “Stop that,” he said. “Study in 15-minute blocks and briefly jot down five things you’ve learned. This will halve your study time and double your effectiveness. Parum et saepe (little and often) gets the job done.”
Eloquent noises
He also taught me how to identify and tackle blowhards and braggarts peddling fake omniscience. Why did students believe in him? Because he exuded wisdom, confidence and walked his talk. When teachers consistently deliver ‘quality edutainment’, students learn to listen.
Jacko may well have not passed many of today’s teacher training courses – yet he turned this secondary school dunce who scored 4/40 on his first theology exam into a passionate lover of book learning. He understood the malign power of defeatism, and instilled in us the art of resilience.
Above all, Jacko venerated the value of elected silence: “It is in silence that we find what everyone needs – wisdom, intelligence, and love,” he told us.
These are hallmarks of genius. Like all inspirational teachers, he made eloquent noises on a daily basis that successfully engaged us ‘numb bums’ in the cheap seats.
Fr. Hughes died 40 years ago, but his holy spirit continues teaching. I still study in silent, 15-minute bursts. What do you hope students will remember about you, 40 years from now?
John Lawson is a former secondary teacher, now serving as a foundation governor while running a tutoring service, and author of the book The Successful (Less Stressful) Student (Outskirts Press, £11.95); find out more at prep4successnow.wordpress.com or follow @johninpompano
