CORPORAL PUNISHMENT

From time to time I get up on stage and try my hand at a bit of stand-up comedy. My opening joke goes something like: “Hello, my name’s Steve… I used to be a teacher but I was fired – apparently happy slapping the little f***ers is not an appropriate form of punishment.” I’m no Jimmy Carr I admit, but it’s a nice line to start my routine and it usually gets a laugh.

Of course it’s not true – I did used to be a teacher but I wasn’t fired and I certainly didn’t “happy slap” any of my pupils – I gave them a good caning…

But last week, two teachers were suspended after mobile phone footage appeared to show one teacher taunting a boy who had been tied up using electiracal tape. It was, according to the school, a “prank” which went wrong. Very wrong.

It is not clear how much of a part – if any – either teacher played in the incident. But if one of the teachers did taunt the boy (he supposedly said, “Give us a shout when you’re ready to start grovelling”) then this was clearly too much.

Incidentally, the Guardian reported a “school source” as saying: “It was like something you would expect in Guantánamo Bay or an al-Qaida video.” It’s good to know that the school equates the treatment of al-Qaida hostages with that of US terrorist suspects.

But no matter how unpleasant a pupil might be, any kind of maltreatment of children by teachers should be confined strictly to the realms of fantasy. The staffroom is a place of dark, dark humour. Teaching is one of those unbearable jobs – like nursing (or any job in the medical profession), policing and to some extent, journalism – where a sense of humour is absolutely vital.

We deal with situations that are so surreal (and often so unpleasant) that without joking about them, the job really would be unbearable.

Some of the conversations that regualarly happen in staffrooms across the land, if broadcast to a wider audience, would cause a great deal of controversy. But what is said by teachers behind closed doors is said strictly because they are behind closed doors.

Teachers make cruel jokes about school children’s physical appearance and their lack of intelligence. And they frequently pour scorn on parents’ parenting skills and fantasise about how they would really like to punish some of their worst pupils.

But while a lot of what is said is inappropriate, does it do any harm? I would argue not. This “dressing room banter” is a highly effective coping mechanism. It is a release from the daily grind. If teachers were not able to vent their frustrations in the staffroom then where else would they have to let off steam?

A healthy, happy staffroom where teachers can talk openly about which particular little critter has been “doing their head in” that morning makes for a healthy, happy school. If teachers can rant and rave over a cup of coffee with their colleagues then they are less likely to blow their top in front of the kids.

STAND-UP

Sometimes I told people I was a teacher, sometimes I’d tell them I was a comedian. But whatever I said, it would always get the same response: “God! I couldn’t do that!”

This probably has something to do with people’s phobias. The number one fear we have isn’t death, nor is it big hairy spiders. It’s not even being trapped in a lift for six hours with David Cameron. The one thing that scares us more than anything else is speaking in front of a group of other people.

I started performing in my PGCE year. Me and another student teacher both liked comedy and we would always talk about giving it a go. Eventually, one night, after one too many beers, we made a pact that we would both get up on stage before the end of our course.

I’d written some jokes but I had no idea if they were any good and I didn’t have a clue how to get a gig. But then I got an email from the Frog and Bucket comedy club advertising a course for aspiring comedians. I signed up and it was brilliant – it was a bit like teacher training really – it gave you a chance to practise your gags before being unleashed on the real world.

I think my stand-up had a positive impact on my teaching. The comedy improved my confidence – plus it helps to have a sense of humour and a quick wit in class… and teaching meant I was stood up talking every day which always kept me sharp for a gig.

I never used to tell the other teachers about my ‘double life’ – firstly, I was only an amateur and I wouldn’t want them to see me have a bad night on stage… and secondly, some of my material was inspired by my life as a teacher – they might recognise themselves in one of my jokes!