CONTINUATION - ANTI-SEMITISM IN MODERN BRITAIN: A TEACHER’S STORY

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN     SAVED BY THE BELL

 

Six weeks before my two year Probation was up I had an unexpected visitor. A new Government Inspector, someone I hadn’t seen before, showed up at the school. The Head even more surprised than I am. He declined the use of his Study to chat. Instead we find an empty classroom. Once we’re on our own the man immediately assures me that he’s entirely independent of the Local Authority Education Inspectorate and all Government Inspectors I may have seen on previous occasions. He’d been called in to overview my situation on the basis of the letter I sent to the Secretary of State for Education. He is not there to inspect my teaching. His intention is simply to talk.

For the first time in a meeting with any Inspector I instinctively feel he is sympathetic to what I am saying. I reiterate what I wrote in my letter. Tell him about my experiences right from the start, emphasizing my early suspension and the trumped up letter along with all the various forms of harassment. I say that I’d tried hard not to allow these to upset me and done my level best to get on with my work. I also tell him about my good relations with my colleagues and say that I’m liked by the kids. He intimates his awareness of the petition but makes no aspersion that I organized it myself. I tell him frankly that I find the teaching rewarding and that I enjoy it, particularly when I am able to stimulate the kids with new ideas and get them to think independently about the subject matter. It enables them to make their own contributions to the topics under discussion. In fact, this was the most satisfying part of my work at the school. However my spirit was too often dampened by all the other things I’d had to put up with.

I talked a lot and he listened. I said that I was particularly distressed being told by the Local Authority Chief Inspector of Schools that although my teaching had improved he felt I was unsuited to teaching at Secondary School level because, being so highly qualified as he’d said, I wouldn’t find it sufficiently stimulating or rewarding. On the contrary, I say, I found the very nature of teaching at the school challenging, especially in my efforts to get ideas across and help my pupils to think. He asks me if I would continue working at the school if I was able. I said that I would but my Probation period was almost at an end. While it been my first full time teaching job I felt confident that if I’d been teaching elsewhere I would certainly have passed it by now. I’d done my level best in just about everything but felt that the school authorities had always wanted me out. Right from the beginning when they’d discovered I was a Jew. They’d suggested that I should leave so many times it had become simply ridiculous.

I took in the fact that he was making notes and he saw it. It was nothing to be worried about he said quietly. He was just getting down all of the background.

When the interview ended there was a radical shift of procedure compared to previous inspection visits. Instead of him going to report to the Head he asked me to accompany him to his car. I walked with him to the school car park. The Department of Education, he said, would review my case on the basis of our interview along with information from other sources and would be notifying me of their decision in due course. As he drove away I felt impressed more than anything by his friendliness and warmth. I could only think that it was all a consequence of my letter to Secretary of State Shirley Williams.

The following day I’m called in by the Head. Asked if I found the meeting with the Government Inspector productive. I immediately sense he is curious. He wants me to reveal details. I reply neutrally. I did indeed find the meeting useful. He now remarks that my Probation period will soon end. That I will receive a report on it in due course. I nod. No more than that. The meeting ends. I feel that his comments about the Probation period and the report were intended to intimidate. Draw me into difficult conversation.

The next two weeks are a time of relative calm. Nothing seems to happen in any direction. At home Louise and I talk about the situation after I leave the school. Whether we should sell the house and move back to Bath or hold onto it with me working in London on a temporary basis to pay the mortgage while I searched for a suitable lecturing post, few and far between in my subjects. We had to consider the future. She wanted to stay in London. She’d been recommended to see someone at King’s College with a view to returning to University. I congratulated her on the news. It’s a great prospect. We will somehow get by after I’ve left. She’ll go back to University no matter what.

Less than a month to go at the school. The Head appears in the Staff Room during the lunch break. Asks me if he can have a moment of my time. All ears prick up. Set against my experience of so much of the year the tone of his request sounds almost ludicrous. We go to his Study. His manner is cold. Matter of fact. He informs me that I am to remain at the school. The Department of Education has extended my Probation for another year. I nod. Show no sign of emotion. I tell him that I will do my level best to succeed. He says nothing. Smiles icily. The meeting ends and I leave.

At home Louise is amazed at the news. So am I! You see, I tell her, my campaign of letter writing paid off. I had another year and with any luck I’d get through the probation. She shakes her head. I can tell by her look what she’s thinking. Not at that school you won’t.

She’s right and I know it as ever, but now things are different. I’ve got a whole year to find a new job and get the hell out. Leave under my own terms not theirs.

 

CHAPTER NINETEEN     THE BIG HEAT

 

It began all over again just a week later. Called in by the Deputy Head, still running the Social Studies Dept,  and given a grilling. This time it was inventions in the Cotton Industry during the Industrial Revolution.  I’d made the usual errors of fact he said. Everyone knew that Arkwright invented the Water Frame that radically increased the spinning of yarn. I disagreed. He’d put it together using the inventions of others. In fact they’d refused to renew his patent once it ran out. The man gave me his Savonarola look. A real blasphemy special. I was telling the kids porkies. I should keep my personal views out of the classroom  and stick to the book. I shook my head. I knew my stuff I told him. I’d exchanged letters with the Curator of Inventions in the Textile Industry at the Science Museum on this very subject not so long ago. As a result of discussions they’d changed the label on the Water frame saying that Arkwright probably didn’t invent it at all.

The man was infuriated. Not so much about his lovely Arkwright but about some miserable little Jewish probationer sticking to his guns. He called me arrogant to which I responded by shaking my head. His precious Arkwright was a crook I said smiling. He nearly went mad. I had to take it back. He wouldn’t have anyone calling Arkwright a crook! I didn’t know my history and he did! He was running the Department. My portrayal was twisted and erroneous and he wouldn’t have it. I just let him go on, working out the bile in his system. I’d be reported to the Head for insubordination and obstruction. That was all. I was dismissed from his presence.

I left having taken nothing back, somewhat surprised. All he’d had to do was show me the instruments of torture and I’d have taken the sacrament! From then on till the end of term I was summoned out of the Staff Room by him and the Head on a regular basis. I knew what to expect. After all, I’d been there before. An endless procession of trivialities and made up infractions. I thought that now they might leave me alone but they didn’t. It was the same thing all over again. Summoned out of the Staff Room and called “boy” where no-one could hear. Taken to task over and over for just about nothing only this time it was different. The repetition and constancy was beginning to make me feel ill. What should I do? Contact the Department of Education again? I decided to leave it. Wait and see if things got any better. They didn’t. By the end of the term I was experiencing heart palpitations. Beginning to wonder for the first time how long I could go on. I felt seriously stressed. Was it really all worth it?

At Easter I didn’t attend the religious assembly service. That said it all. Let them sue me. If they asked I’d say I felt sick. It was the truth after all. The school broke up and the Easter miracle occurred. I wasn’t called out of the Staff Room.

It was around the time of the vacation that Louise knew she’d be going to Kings. She’d been interviewed by a very erudite man and they’d got along famously. She’d be studying Geology again and was over the Moon. This time we wouldn’t be separated. Only one more term and we could look forward to the long summer holiday. Work in London and finally pay off our debts.

Three weeks of peace. Louise worked and I looked after Larissa, writing another paper for publication during the evenings. Three weeks away from the school and my heart wasn’t jumping. I didn’t feel ill. There was a direct correlation between my state of health and the Headmaster’s Study.

I didn’t have long to wait. First day back and straight in to see him. My absence from the Easter Service had been noted. As far as he recalled I’d given him an undertaking that I’d attend. I explained that I’d been unwell at the time. Hmm, had I seen a doctor? I shook my head. No, I’d been right there at the school. He shook his head too. Further failure to attend assemblies wouldn’t be tolerated unless supported by sound medical reason. Was that understood? I nodded, letting him see that I felt comprehensively chastised! Right then, dismissed! I walked out knowing how lucky he was. It would have been the easiest thing in the world for me to have reached out over his desk and put my hands round his throat. Maybe he sensed I was close. Maybe he wanted me to do it. And somehow I knew that he knew! Come on! Make my day laddie!

For the next month I was in and out of both Studies three times a week with the door closed behind me. Never sure what I might have done wrong but always waiting to be called. Taken out of my class in front of the kids. Humiliation piled on humiliation. By now I was feeling ill all over again. My heart jumping and pounding. I’d seen my doctor. Taken time off to visit a hospital. Stress related they called it. Nothing really bad on the scan. Just a touch erratic that’s all. To make matters worse the campaign of tricks had started all over again. Loss of all my free periods… Lunch time duties… A seriously increased load of marking that came out of the blue. I couldn’t say no to any of it. I just took it all. Carried on regardless only Christ it was really getting me down.

One morning I caught sight of my face in the mirror. I wasn’t looking so good. An hour into morning lessons and I was called out of my class. The Head wanted to see me. My heart started jumping all over the place. I felt weak. Seriously unwell. It was all I could do to drag myself to the Staff Room.

“Tell the Head I’m in the Staff Room not feeling well,” I gave his Secretary the message. Cover was quickly arranged while I lay on a sofa feeling like shit with my head in a flannel and colleagues making me tea. Lunch time I went home and the following day phoned in sick. Back to the doctor and back to the hospital. Another scan. This time the line was a little less regular. I was unwell and needed a rest. Needed to take time off from work. I wasn’t listening. Stay at home and turn it all round in my head? No, the teaching helped me forget. Took my mind off things. Helped me concentrate. Somehow I’d have to ride it all out. Somehow.

What irked me most were the little things. Being passed over for departmental outings. Staying in school to cover while others took the kids to museums and history excursions. Small stuff but ugly. A permanent reminder that I was fuck nothing. Hiding in the Library to escape being called out of the Staff Room then being called out of my classes with all the kids knowing I was in some kind of trouble again. And now came more criticism. In my Sociology of Religion lessons I was trying to get the kids to think for themselves. My ideas had the approval of the Head of the R.E. Department but that wasn’t the way the authorities saw it. It was back to the beginning all over again. I was teaching unholy doubt!

I felt ill. I could smell another witch hunt in the offing. A warning from the Deputy Head first then a reprimand from the Head. I was teaching at a Church of England school and shouldn’t forget it. I pointed to the syllabus. The very nature of the subject encouraged questioning.

Half way into the term I felt hung out like a rag in the sun. It was a Friday morning and I’d driven into the school feeling well below par. Tired but holding on for the weekend. I was drinking coffee in the Staff Room. No assembly that morning and the lessons not yet begun. The door swung open. My name called in a loud voice and the Deputy Head’s face twisted in a lopsided grin. “The Head wants to see you…” I looked up feeling hopeless and angry. I was drinking my coffee. A basic human right. I had human rights hadn’t I? I wasn’t surprised when the words came but all my friends in the Staff Room were.

“I’ll only see him if someone from the Union’s present.”

It was a moment frozen in time. The talking suddenly stopped. The silence was deafening. It was said and I carried on sipping my coffee, not looking at anyone in particular. The Deputy Head left in a hurry and the spell was now broken. There was a great buzz of talk. Smiles in my direction. Now I’ve gone and done it I thought. He’ll soon be in like a fury. Nothing happened. When the bell ended the day there’d been neither sight nor sound of the beast.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY     BRINK OF NOTHING

 

After Friday’s defiance the weekend hung over me like a sword. The Head and his messenger boy knew exactly what they were doing making me wait. Making me feel the big heat. Two months after I’d had my probation extended they were letting me know that it really meant nothing. That they were still in control. The message was plain. Here’s what you get from now on and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Maybe I should have kept quiet. It’s easy to say. It wasn’t that I didn’t care anymore. I cared all right. I’d just got tired of being used as a punch bag. Felt I needed some kind of protection. The need to avail myself of a witness to the punishment I was taking.

I talked it over with Louise on the weekend. Not for long but long enough. People like that didn’t like people like me saying no. Some little Jew needing protection after his mates had killed Jesus. On Sunday we went for a walk in the country. Me and my girls. Wide blue skies shining high in the middle of nowhere and woods full of flowers. First thing Monday morning the legions were out. The toad-like Deputy Head summoning me from the Staff Room. The Head wanted to see me immediately after coffee break. The vocal intonation was clear. If I didn’t comply I’d sleep with the fishes. 

I wanted to say, ‘Hey Fat Tony, tell the bastard I said he should go fuck himself,’ but I didn’t. Instead I put on the charm. I was always pleased to meet with the Head but right now I wanted the school Union Rep to be present. The man’s face turned florid. I’d denied the Lord twice. Things were beginning to get biblical.

The coffee break came and went and I didn’t go anywhere, but neither did anyone come looking for me. Tuesday morning I found a cheap brown envelope waiting for me in my pigeon hole. No stamp! I opened it up knowing it wasn’t a pay cheque. From the Headmaster’s Office…

Dear Mr …, Your refusal to meet with me to discuss school business unless accompanied by the union representative is unreasonable and unbecoming a member of my staff. It is contrary to normal working practices and not conducive to a happy and positive school environment. Having discussed the matter with the Chairman of Governors I write to inform you that a meeting of the Governors will be called to discuss the matter to which you will be invited. Yours etc. 

Invited and sacked I instantly thought. And here he was making it sound like a pleasant chat. I immediately showed the letter to my closest colleague the Head of R.E. “Mind if I show this around?” he asked. I didn’t. Soon it was public knowledge. Everyone giving me words of advice. I had to go to the meeting. Put my side of the story.

That night Louise saw the letter. It was a trigger for my dismissal she said. That was clear enough. A perfect way round the extension of my probation. First thing the following morning I had to contact the Union. Only Head Office would do. Get things moving on the highest level I could. It wasn’t easy. The Regional Officer was away for a couple of days so I got through to someone on the Executive and told him the story. That evening the Regional man phoned me at home. Sorry, he’d been handling a problem elsewhere. I explained the situation. He told me he’d call the school the following day. Speak to the Head and get back to me soon as he could. I wouldn’t be alone at the meeting, he’d make sure of it. I thanked him and left it like that.

Friday morning I took a call at the school. It was the Union man. I told him the line wasn’t secure. He should phone me at home in the evening. He did. He’d spoken to the Head. The meeting of Governors was scheduled for the end of next week. I was required to attend but he could accompany me if I wished. My conduct had been deemed seriously unreasonable he’d been told, which coming on top of a variety of other misdemeanors could be construed as sufficient grounds for dismissal.

I was amazed. Not because the bastard was planning on doing it but because he was making his intentions so plain and letting me and the Union know it! The meeting would be a fait accompli. The Governors had appointed him and he was a personal friend of the Chairman. He was their man and they’d be the jury. I made the point on the phone. It would be a Kangaroo Court hearing. They’d be hardly likely to listen to me over him!

The Union man insisted. I had to keep an open mind. No matter how I felt I had to go. He’d be there to help me put my case. If I refused the Head would be able to tell them I was rejecting every offer of help. They’d go along with him because I wasn’t there to explain.

I said I’d think it all over, thanked him and put down the phone. Keep an open mind!  If he’d been in my shoes for the last two years he might have known better. I now had the weekend ahead and decisions to make. Board of Governors meeting to hear allegations of misconduct! As though the Union could do anything. Even if I’d had the school union rep in on our meetings as I’d requested he still wouldn’t have taken a blind bit of notice. Looking at it coldly I’d given him the opportunity he needed. Handed him over a gun. It was Louise who put it that way. For god’s sake didn’t you know? Well maybe I did. Maybe I’d just had enough and my excuse with the Union was my way of saying I just wanted out. There’s a time for everything in life and maybe deep down I felt my time at the school had come to a close. A large part of me wanted to stay. I was enjoying the work and got on well with the kids. But there was another voice too. Telling me the world was a whole lot bigger than Romford. Fuck the Head and his Governors’ meeting. A Jew on trial for misconduct, that’s what it was. That’s how he saw it. After two years of hell it was me who was on trial. My behavior questioned. Me taken to task. Up before some little Inquisition of Essexites when it should have been him. I felt a terrible anger. The sheer injustice of it all. Why should I have to account for my actions? Why not him?

It was then that I made my decision. Not on the grounds as to whether I could defend myself but whether I should. I was a Jew who’d already suffered enough. Why it should be me there having to face it after the phony hateful suspension… after all the harassment and threats… the daily hell that I’d suffered? No, I wasn’t going to their lousy kangaroo hearing. Just another Jew being called to account for his crimes. Fuck him and fuck them. To hell with them all. I’d made up my mind.

“You’ll be sacked,” Louise said quietly.

“I’ll be sacked anyway,” I replied feeling sick.

I spent the weekend with my family. Doing more work in the garden, painting, thinking about the academic paper I’d been invited to write. Good things. Thinking positively about the future. I wasn’t going to their meeting next Friday. Let them do what they wanted. What they’d do anyway whether I attended or not. It was a verdict on themselves not on me. I’d go on. Go forward and do other things. I’d always feel clean.

I phoned the Union on Monday. The man was dismayed. Pointed out something I hadn’t thought of before. In spite of Headmasters past and present, the negative reports on my teaching, the school and local authority collectively failing my Probation, the Secretary of State for Education had seen fit to extend it for another full year. That was exceptional. Almost unheard of. It had to say something. They clearly thought I had potential, that I’d make a good secondary school teacher, otherwise they wouldn’t have done it. Above all, that they weren’t listening to the Headmaster and buying what they’d been told. That was a huge plus in my favour which we could use. Nothing was lost. All I had to do was attend the meeting with him.

I told him I’d made up my mind. My decision was final. He begged me to reconsider. I shouldn’t give up my career. Teaching was good and worthwhile. I should relax. Talk to my wife. Mull it all over. Promise him at least I’d do that. I found myself promising. Right, he’d call me on Wednesday. Not at the school but at home.  

As though by magic my staff colleagues knew the meeting was scheduled for Friday. The Head of R.E. was immediately supportive. He’d go along if I liked. Put in a word for me on behalf of the staff. There were also others willing to help. I said I’d think it over. I hadn’t decided on anything yet. One thing I did know however. Friday evening was Shabbat, the Jewish Sabbath. Now I wasn’t religious. Not a praying man you might say. All the same, the Sabbath was special and you didn’t need to be religious to know it. If I was going to attend any meeting I wasn’t going to have any anti-Semite piss on me at a time when Jews traditionally rested and relaxed. I made the point to Louise. If I was going to any meeting of theirs it wouldn’t be on a Friday evening and when the Union man called I told him the same, explaining my reasons. Okay, I was in. I’d go to the meeting but only if it was rescheduled. He understood. It was a fair enough point. He didn’t see any reason why the day couldn’t be changed. He’d speak to the Head. Have the meeting rescheduled for early next week. We left it at that. He’d phone me tomorrow. He was sure the Head would understand. That everything would be fine.

Thursday I was called out of the Staff Room at lunch break. I had a visitor. The gentleman from the Union, the Deputy Head said loudly so everyone could hear. Now this was unexpected. Something was up and it couldn’t be good or he’d have phoned. Good news always comes easy that way. I was right. The man’s face said it all. We talked in an empty classroom. He’d called the Head first thing then again after he’d contacted the vicar who was Chairman of Governors. They wouldn’t reschedule. The meeting would take place on Friday as planned.

That’s it I said. If they wouldn’t make any allowances for the Sabbath then we both knew what to expect. He put up all the same arguments. All the things I had going for me only this time I didn’t want to know. Their decision was an insult. A deliberate slap in the face. I shouldn’t have even suggested the idea. Shown myself willing only to have them do that. I let him run silent. Took his hand and thanked him profusely. It was over and I wasn’t going. I’d call him next week soon as I heard anything.

They had their meeting. I got a letter the following Thursday. Cheap brown envelope in my pigeon hole same as before. My employment at the school was terminated. Irreconcilable differences between myself and the Head. Work out the next few weeks till exams and the end of the year and that was it! My salary would be paid by the local authority through the summer vacation and the term after that up till Christmas. Surprisingly it ended with a Yours faithfully… Now that really hurt. The Chairman of Governors didn’t love me anymore! And him being a man of god, a vicar and all…

I showed Louise the letter when she got in from work. She gave me a hug. Made me her best ever spaghetti for supper. I kept my inner thoughts to myself. Six month’s salary going for me but that would soon disappear. I was staring out over an abyss. It should have made me hard and determined but instead I felt tearful. Later that night with both girls asleep I sat down and cried.