Play the ball, not the man

Franklin Johnston, Guest Columnist

I refer to your Letter of the Day of Saturday, May 25 by Winnie Anderson-Brown, who used parts of my Observer column to extrapolate and conjecture. I now deal with some personal stuff, even though she ventures into the murky waters of education without the life jacket of hard data.

A family with "two centuries" of teachers should be proud. I am the proud scion of slaves and slave owners, white (the ship's passenger manifest names Johnston), black (the slaver's cargo manifest does not name any) who worked on farms and in industry. We built this country.

Yes, "School was not, nor teachers', my favourites ..." and it would be easy to say how my teachers made me, but this accolade belongs to my parents who taught me English so books and 'self-study' worked for me. Master English at any age - seven, 17 or 70 and all other subjects are within your grasp.

Winnie, speak your truth and let me speak mine. There was good, but bad loomed large. You say I must "not judge (teaching) by the shortcomings of any of its members ... ." Did you meet all teachers before you 'big up' yours? No! As a boy, I also formed views about mine. What were you like? I was not an easy child; I was bored, restless, and school was prison. I was diagnosed 'bad', my teacher prescribed punishment, and I got good doses.

This slave lugged her family's groceries for miles on Fridays. Why not her own kids? My teachers promised to cane "the Devil out of me" and many did. This was my reality. I cannot now spout clichés to curry-favour. We need truth and reconciliation.

The teacher who sexually molested my best friend and drove him to death is seared in my psyche. "Death by drowning" does not describe his struggle with this predator. I wept inconsolably as he coached us what to say. A shivering boy was dropped off at a gate to break the news to my friend's parents as he didn't know them.

I had no words; cold sweat, nightmares - a struggle, pleading eyes, last breath, gone. The worst day in a boy's life and I dread field trips. Being me, I told the head teacher the truth and was punished as a liar - this caring man. The teacher left the school and I never saw him again. Good ones were silent. Where was God?

My small-boy experience with my teacher is not yours, and emails say some icons could face actions for abuse, but no one will call names. Some 90 per cent of teacher tribunal cases are dismissed on technicalities, so there could be dozens of broken children out there as the sexual predator teacher is moved from school to school by colluding principals. A strong union is an asset, but not to transparency.

Edith Dalton James, that great humanist and teacher, aided my healing, and so as a young student with options, I chose teaching, though my teachers advised medicine. Based on the education data we now have, I failed miserably. But God gives second chances, so I am here and I can see clearly. Messrs Glasspole and Edwin Allen must be turning as their work has experienced serious reversal.

Winnie, be proud of your "two centuries" of teaching, but the data do not support you. You started your airbrushing with a "looming battle" and ended with a call to "stand up and fight". I say, beat your swords into ploughshares; get real, do some self-analysis, review teacher performance, time on task. I will do my data mining and you see that your lot do "what they are paid to do".

Meanwhile, tell your handlers to play the ball, not the man. Let's turn failure to success in this decade. One love!

Franklin Johnston (DPhil, OXON) is adviser to the minister of education. Email feedback to columns@gleanerjm.com and Franklinjohnstontoo@gmail.com.