The teachers who made me

The influence of teachers becomes apparent later in life. Picture: iStock

They are present in the life story of every Australian. They reach back into childhood and carry forward into life’s memories. They have an impact, they leave an imprint; they have the power to shape a young life’s ambition. They are this nation’s 311,000 primary and secondary schoolteachers.

I liked school and I liked my teachers. By the time I left school I thought I knew what I wanted to do with my life. I trained as a teacher and am qualified to teach history, geography and some sciences in secondary schools. I changed direction when I discovered that the kids I was teaching weren’t particularly interested in my subject area. Or maybe I completely failed to engage their imagination. In any case I went on to write a Masters thesis (on the historical geography of Melbourne) and from there manoeuvred my way into consulting. But always at the back of my mind was this: If ever this demographics thing falls through, I can go back to teaching.

The influence of teachers becomes apparent later in life and it is their enthusiasm, encouragement, mentorship and sense of fun that I remember. There must have been teachers along the way who were far less effective but in memory they don’t stand out.

Fifty years ago, at St Thomas’s Primary School Terang, Sister Andrew would regale the class with stories of her life before entering the convent. She said she loved dancing. “Show us, Sister!” So she did. She hitched up her skirt to just above her ankles and danced an Irish jig. She really got into it. It was such a fun thing to do. Her class was ecstatic.

My country high school had a remarkable array of teaching staff, including Americans who came out to alleviate the need for teachers in Victoria in the early 1970s. My French teacher, Ray, was more effective at teaching me about American culture and basketball than French. He was shot in the hip in a rice paddy in Vietnam five years earlier. He told the story of how he was rescued by his captain who, under fire, carried him to safety. Heart-thumping stuff.

In Year 11 my new geography teacher handed back an essay with comments written throughout the narrative. He had picked out individual points and wrote positively about where he thought I could improve. He was passionate about his subject area; it transferred by osmosis. He was such a committed, diligent teacher. The same thing happened with my history class. A teacher who really focuses, offering constructive, engaged, commentary, shapes the way you think. To the extent that I wanted to be a schoolteacher.

As it turned out my career moved in another direction. But looking back it wasn’t so much the subject area, or the job of teaching, that I learnt from these great teachers along the way. It was the ability to engage people, to communicate with authenticity and passion, to tell a story that leaves an impact.

I am sure we all pick up sufficient essentials throughout our school life to navigate the workforce and adulthood. But along the way there are life lessons, quintessential moments of mentorship, that are imparted by this army of schoolteachers in every suburb and town across Australia who double as dancers, volunteers, caregivers and sports coaches. They have the capacity to leave memories and make an impact that lasts a lifetime.

But it’s not just the memories or the subject matter expertise that sticks. It’s the personal qualities that are transmitted: a willingness to change the narrative, to tell a meaningful personal story, to show above all that you have someone’s best interests at heart.