Secret Diary of an Irish Teacher: We need men to stop bashing teachers

Last week I completed some online training. The instructor reminded us that all behaviour is communication. When I read abusive responses to my article online, I breathe deep, dig deep, and carry on.

It’s no big deal. All behaviour is a form of communication, I told myself. Why might an article about teacher and student safety provoke vitriol though? What are people really trying to communicate?

Maybe fear. Maybe resentment. And I appreciate both. Teachers haven’t been physically protected lately, but they are financially cushioned. This is hard for people in the private sector to take. Having been brought up by a father who ran his own business, I am keenly aware of this. When I worry for my physical safety, or that of my family, I don’t mean to enter a competition with someone who has been financially devastated by Covid19. Financial stress is very real and very damaging. It can also make people unsafe, unwell in body and mind – it can be fatal.

But something else struck me – the proportion of aggressive voices I heard that were male.

Is teacher-bashing yet another issue of gender? Our profession is increasingly female, particularly in primary school. 87% of primary teachers are female, 71% of secondary teachers. As was pointed out by Fintan O’Toole, all 11 people who made the lockdown decisions are men. Many affected are female – teachers, being told to work during lockdown, and small business owners, being told to close. I realise this was not by design; it’s just where we are. In the same week that the records of the Mother and Baby Homes are being debated, I can’t help but feel the sting of patriarchy in the negative comments hurled in my direction.

I can’t help but wonder if we’re also approaching this pandemic in a very gendered way. New Zealand, led by a woman, has done a good job of protecting everyone in its population. Comparatively, we have not. Is it because we live in a country that routinely fails to protect our oldest and most vulnerable citizens? Are we accustomed to undermining the lives and interests of people in caring roles, in schools, hospitals and nursing homes, most predominantly women?

I’ve only recently discovered what it costs to organise care for a loved one in their own home. For most people, it’s not an option. If it weren’t for the bravery of individuals who go above and beyond a broken, historically underfunded system, we’d be a lot worse off than we currently are.

This is one reason to diversify our teaching staff, to protect us from another form of gendered attack. Too many teachers are white middle-class women like me. We must be one of the most homogenous professions, which is no good for young people in need of role models. Research carried out by the Teaching Council a few years back found that 92-98 percent of trainee teachers claim Irish nationality and 95 percent are ‘white Irish.’ Our students might be diversifying but our teaching staff, sadly, is not.

Where are the black people? Where are the men? Where are people from poorer communities? We need to look at the causes of these absences if we want progress.

There are many. Our primary sector is still alarmingly nepotistic. Particularly in rural Ireland – if you don’t know someone in the area, you need not apply. Two and a half years after returning home, my husband still lacks permanency.

It doesn’t help that he’s an atheist. 92 percent of schools are off his radar because he’d feel uncomfortable teaching Catholicism. I imagine the same prospect is unappealing for a Muslim or Hindu teacher in Ireland. Or a homosexual. Or anyone else who isn’t Catholic on paper. Over 90 percent of people who train to be a primary teacher are Catholic. Of course, they are.

Do you see the pool of candidates shrinking? Hold on. I’m not finished yet – far from it.

If you’re not a proficient Irish speaker, then don’t apply either. You’re not wanted. In one easy move by the Department, all foreign-born candidates are left out of the picture. People with Irish exemptions, often those from diverse backgrounds, minority ethnicities or with disabilities, need not apply.

Then comes social class. If children are taught by someone who comes from a different world to them, they will be less inclined to see the profession as a good ‘fit.’ Also, if they plan to be a secondary teacher, they need to study for five years without any financial support. The PME course is hectic and students teach without pay for its duration. It’s not an easy option.

Unsurprisingly, we’re left with what looks less and less like a pool and more of a puddle, of white Irish middle-class women like me. A puddle that too many people (men in particular) feel the need to avoid.

Students need someone who has grown up like they have, in similar homes with similar voices. Young boys relate to male teachers in a way that is perfectly valid and important. They have something in common and commonality brings connection and security. All students should feel that at least some of their time in school.

We need fewer men bashing teachers and telling women how to behave. We need them to listen with compassion instead. And then we need them to teach in our classrooms.