My teaching tribe: why connections matter more than ever
Gonna get myself, I’m gonna get myself,
Gonna get myself connected...
These lyrics from the 1992 Stereo MCs song ‘Connected’ were part of the soundtrack to the year I left school; the almost mantra-like chant at the start transports me back to my pre-social media teenage world as well as any bite of soft cake did for Proust. But I’m not sure I had any idea back then that other lyrics in the song spoke to the disquiet on the streets of London and the United States, nor did I have much notion of the importance of ‘connection’, even at a more basic level. Yet these ideas feel so relevant to the mood of 2020.
As a teenager in the early nineties, keeping in touch required putting pen to paper or negotiating with parents when it came to using the only telephone in the house. Writing letters felt grown up – exciting, even – and I looked forward to seeing the instantly recognisable handwriting of my friends on envelopes delivered to my halls of residence and student abodes. Years later and about to embark on my first teaching job, I remember my then Head of Department sending me a card during the holidays in which she wrote her phone number (a land line!) in case I had any questions. Of course, I had a million questions. Did I call her? Never. A few weeks after that and I had the opportunity of seeing for the first time a pigeon hole in the staff room with my initials on it: the home of slips of paper requiring actions; notes about pupil behaviour, absence or detentions; letters from parents; essays past their deadlines. As an NQT, I remember the feeling - not of relief when I checked the brown, wooden space only to find it empty, but that I was somehow missing out.
These former methods of connecting (paper, phone, pigeon hole) have been superseded by a plethora of electronic means that both facilitate and irritate in equal measure and yet all have enabled me to maintain connections with my own teaching tribe: former colleagues, now friends, who span decades of teaching and countries across the world. People with whom I have worked in a wide range of educational contexts, from traditional institutions to far more informal, progressive settings. This tribe, whose members haven’t even met in person and have no idea I think of them in this way, shares my educational values and vision. I draw comfort and inspiration from this group: our joint passion for innovative learning, our desire to discover ways to make conscious, thoughtful and holistic teaching everyday practice, our awareness of the importance of empathy building in the classroom, our appreciation of tolerant, trusting, invitational collaboration. A small, unknown teaching community that stimulates my own thinking, supports and inspires me, fostering a sense of joint enterprise and shared purpose. Whether by handwritten letter, WhatsApp message, email or phonecall, I remain firmly connected to this group of like-minds.
Despite the fact that teachers are constantly surrounded by other people - in classrooms, playgrounds, dining halls, assemblies – it can also feel a solitary profession, and never more so than in this Coronavirus world of ‘bubbles’ and ‘distancing’ and minimised contact with colleagues. Perhaps this is why the desire to connect with like-minded educators has always been so strong: that feeling at a CPD training course when you nod furiously with another teacher sharing an experience that could be yours, coyly swapping contact details with someone teaching the same text or syllabus, or liking comments on a Facebook forum that challenges time-consuming and ultimately futile school initiatives. These connections, however small, make us feel part of a wider, bigger, worldlier endeavour – and, perhaps, serve to remind us why we entered this world of education in the first place.
Since joining ThoughtBox at the beginning of this month, I’ve been working with the team on a new venture: the launch of the ThoughtBox Community Network. The idea that there will be a space for educators and like-minds to come together feels fresh, innovative and brave – but also incredibly supportive and inviting. Encouraging meaningful connections with communities lies at the heart of the ThoughtBox ethos and this need to connect has never been more important. It’s easy to feel alone as we work from home; seeing and hearing people only through the medium of a screen still feels other worldly at times. Those important nuances of contact we usually experience on a daily basis seem somehow far away: a hand on a shoulder in a classroom, a raised eyebrow across a table in a meeting, a shared smile above a sea of heads in a crowded room. I’m so excited that the ThoughtBox Community Network will bring like-minds together and help people feel a part of something as they share ideas, explore education and, I hope, replicate those same positive feelings of connection generated by my own small tribe.
Jo Kean
Jo is our new Community & Partnerships coordinator and we’re delighted to be welcoming her to the ThoughtBox Family. Our new Community Network will be launched on Friday 2nd October and is free to join.