The best teacher I ever had was Bart Hickey in Sextons. Made me love history, loved it for the junior cert. Bart would go for a fag during the class and smoke it out the window of the corridor. He was a top notch person and really good at his job. He commanded respect but never lost his temper.
I had Gleeson then for the leaving cert history and soon fell out of love with the subject. A woeful teacher and a nasty cunt
Would that be for moving away from the set course/programme?
The teachers I’d remember as been “best” where the ones who probably did do things their own way a little bit. I’d say still getting everything covered that needed to, but adding an extra understanding to it.
Jerry teaching the lads a little Latin sounds great and really educating them.
Ya, the inspectorate generally want things done robotically, everything planned to within an inch of its life, teacher standing in certain places, using certain tones of voice etc etc
The best teachers I ever had probably hadn’t a clue where the day was going when it got to 9 o clock, a mixture of their classroom experience and knowledge of the kids in front of them made every day exciting
Dorrie Dowling in the institute is the best teacher and most inspiring human being I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.
All the teachers at the institute were really good. No threat of violence or constant eroding sarcasm.
Also Dan Taheny in the bish, his slide shows opened your mind to the world. I loved them so much. If you got a free class for some reason, yed be sitting there in silence, and Dan, God rest him, would stick his head round the door “would ye like a slide show lads?”
He’d then show the photos of the great European cities you’d only heard of that he’d taken himself, the stories behind them. How he got into trouble lying on the ground to take a photo of a ceiling, possibly the Cistine chapel. He’d tell you about past pupils (I always remember Miley “the pint” o Reilly, who he said was the hardest pupil ever graced the bish, became friends with Dan, stayed in touch after going to America, was offered a green card if he signed up, and died in Vietnam.
I don’t think some of these great teachers ever realise that pupils still think about them regularly for the rest of their lives.
I had the good fortune to spend some time with Dan, more as an equal when he was in a nursing home a few years back. Myself and the oul fella and the bother used pick him up and we’d go for a few pints in the local, and I’d remind him of the talks, and he’d tell me the background, often hard, that some of the teachers had, and the history of the Bish. I treasure them now.
I treasure every minute I spent in the classroom and in the company of Dorrie Dowling.