Three occasions that made it all worthwhile

Vogue 'Personal Memory' - August 2011

Each of the three times began with a gentle knock on a door.  On reflection that’s where I entered the story but for the three people knocking it was the culmination of what might have been weeks or months of planning, nerves and, from what I can recall, terror.

I went straight from University into teaching and the door is the entrance to my enclave; it’s too spacious and full of science paraphernalia to be called a classroom but whenever I call it a laboratory I feel I’m trying to make it sound more impressive than it actually is and that’s a room full of wooden tables that have three decades worth of graffiti on them and a ceiling that leaks through the fireproof tiles.  Out of all of the places that you imagine this kind of conversation might take place you’d probably never have thought of a room like mine.

When I began teaching I constantly thought about the things that could go wrong, what issues I might have to deal with and how I could try and prepare strategies or responses in advance.  I gave up a month later when I realised that you can’t prepare yourself for the randomness of working with teenagers. When I finished my first school placement I felt so relieved that I’d managed to get away with keeping it secret.  Right then I knew I’d made a mistake.

I often get knocks on my door during lunchtime: sometimes there’s nobody there; often it’s a student reporting for their detention; on the first of these three occasions I had no idea what was going to happen when I opened the door.  As I invited my visitor inside the first thing I noticed was that he looked incredibly nervous, the second that he was on his own and the third was that he kept on looking back at the door like someone was going to jump through it at any moment.  It may surprise you to learn that there are a series of protocols to follow in situations like this but at that moment I completely forgot the second and, keeping a quizzical gaze on him, closed the door behind me.

“I wanted to talk to you about something sir”

The first rule is that you must never promise to keep something a secret.  There is a line, carefully worded and structured, for you to use if anyone asks and it’s recommended that you insert it into a conversation with any student who asks to talk to you about ‘a problem’ – “I can’t promise not to tell anybody else but I wont tell anybody else unless I think that it’s something that I have to”.

The second knock came a few weeks later.  It was lunchtime again and when I opened it two students were stood on the other side. I recall having a sandwich in my hand and anticipated what they were going to say before they did.  I used to hate the double standards of “No eating in a science lab” when I was at school; I don’t defend myself but still feel like I’ve been caught doing something illicit.  When only one of the girls walked in I guessed what she was going to say a moment before it gushed out of her in one breath.

“Sir I’ve been having a problem and I didn’t want to talk to anyone else about it because they wouldn’t understand but I thought that you would understand and could help”

I started at my second placement and decided that whilst quiet was safe, too many memories and feelings had forced their way in again.  I don’t hide when I’m outside school walls but making things easier on myself was ignoring the good that it might do.

The third knock came after school on one of those Summer days where you all you can think about is being on the other side of whatever door is holding you captive.  This visit was different.  He looked like he didn’t know where he was; as if his feet had just brought him to the door on autopilot.  Despite him knocking on the door that was already wide open but he remained stood, still in the doorway.  His gaze was fixated on a point in the air ahead of him and, although I couldn’t hear his panting, his shoulders were shaking in that uncontrollable, angry, heavy breathing that accompanies stress.

“Why don’t they just leave me the FUCK ALONE!”

A friend said that it “takes balls” to do what I decided; it’s not the easiest thing in the world but I’m trying to be an example and a person to talk to.  What really ‘took balls’ was knocking on my door.  At their age I was never that brave.