“The past is always tense, the future perfect” ― ZADIE SMITH

In my first year of teaching I taught both English and History. At that stage I was happy to teach both as I loved both disciplines and had absolutely no idea of the intricacies of balancing two subjects with two separate sets of prep and horror of all horrors, THE MARKING!

Our HOD History was a well-meaning but officious woman who did classroom inspections to see just how well we communicated a love for the subject to our students. That such enthusiasm was measured by how we presented our classrooms and not by how we actually taught made me feel a little like one of those window dressers presenting the latest goods in a manner that would attract the most sales. My classroom was festooned with posters, maps, charts, battle plans and anything else vaguely historical I could find. Alas, to no avail. She walked in, pursed her lips, shook her head sadly and declared her disappointment that I had nothing displayed on the ceiling. It smacked of a royal command and so the next project I assigned my grade 8s was to build model World War I aeroplanes which I then proceeded to suspend above us, to all intents and purposes as though we were about to be strafed with enemy gunfire. My passion for teaching History was downed as quickly as those wood and paper constructions and I confess that it has never resurfaced. I suspect that this is not a bad thing as I was not a very interesting History teacher: the syllabus aside – just how do you make the Great Trek and the Boer Wars interesting? – I nearly droned myself to sleep, let alone my students.

My love of History remains but is now confined to reading the latest Paul Johnson or Anthony Beevor, the latter of whom must be considered one of the greatest historians of the modern era.

No, my true passion was the teaching of English and so it has remained. It felt as though it was a natural extension of me and that feeling has not diminished over time. There have been days when I have felt as though I have somehow beaten the system: I am paid for indulging what I love most and then am given school holidays to boot. My love for what I do is twofold: I love teaching, and I love Literature even more. The combination of the two is a heady experience.

But as with everything else, doing something you love does not make it less difficult and the teaching of English is fraught with problems – so many that to be quite honest I am not sure where to begin. First of all is the fact that the students I teach are all English first language speakers: when they sit at table and ask someone to pass the salt the request is understood – in other words, if I already speak the language, why on earth do I need to study it?

With the greater use of technology in the classroom this feeling of the pointlessness of studying English has grown exponentially of late  – spell checks and grammar checks seem to negate the need to learn essential language usage, in particular in its written form. After all, very few people actually write letters and use snail mail anymore – emails are quicker and far more convenient.

The fact that language has deteriorated seems unimportant to most students and they are not even aware that this has happened: television shows, online games, sms language and a diminished culture of reading have so infiltrated modern social contexts that poor language usage is not recognised or even seen to be problematic. I am by no means a purist and I recognise that languages evolve and change, adapting to lifestyles and cultures, and I welcome the flexibility regarding many of those outdated rules regarding the use of split infinitives and beginning a sentence with a conjunction but people, there is a limit!

 Communication is a gift and clear communication is vital as I believe that language is about two things and two things only – we use words to express what we think and what we feel: if our use of language is inadequate we allow our thoughts and feelings to be diminished and do not give them the importance they are due. When that happens people will ignore or disregard what we are saying and our words will grow ever less important. So it is not grammar for grammar's sake that matters - it is the ability to express ourselves clearly.

Descartes wrote ‘I think therefore I am’ – and if who I am is important to me then I believe I need the words to tell that to others, but mainly to be able to tell that to myself.