I received this ebook as a review copy in a member giveaway with no demand for a good review. Mr Berwick Coates has written a particular memoir. As the daughter of a teacher who worked almost the same years as Mr Coates, albeit in Australia and with a teaching degree, I am aware of the common issues facing teachers and students (and governments) in the post war to Thatcherite era. That Mr Coates loved his job,and that he held a deep affection for many - possibly most of his students is clear throughout the book. the anecdotes are witty yet salient - on the way to filling in time until he found his calling Mr Coates became a teacher in the comprehensive schools and other descriptions which governments allocated to the school systems as they either tried to improve them or tried to hide the fact that nothing really had changed. The titles of the chapters are witty eg Bella Sparrow's Club, It doesn't matter what you teach boys, Us don't 'ave no books, sir (That is a lovely chapter), Peter Rowley and the Vikings, Our friends, the enemy.

there is a valid bitterness though, "...we are now truly democratic; you can get a knighthood for anything. Except, it seems, for labouring in the galleys on middle-school Maths for nearly forty years, and being adored by generations of pupils, who can count among their number seventy-four MA's, fifteen Ph.D's. two archbishops, a Foreign Secretary, a member of the Order of Merit, and a Nobel Prizewinner.
One is tempted to wonder whether the establishment - the faceless bureaucrats,eminences grises, the men in grey flannel suits, the Humphrey Appleby's of this world somehow 'have it in' for teachers. Or rather, perhaps, that they have nothing 'in' for teachers. .... Part of the reason for this may be the fact that we have all been to school. We have all had lessons from teachers. We have watched them close to, and seen all the warts.... We have all been taught, so we all know everything there is to know about education."

This statement is so very true, as a teacher's daughter and as a Ph.D. I know the worth of teachers. I know how respected my own father was, to the extent that the five year olds he taught in 1950, remember him with deep affection. Whilst not exactly a unique name in Western Australia, enough people recognise my maiden name to ask if I am related to Mr S, and now my sisters are in the system too, developing the minds of the young. It is an ungrateful world from the top down, but the joy comes from the children and sometimes the thanks of the parents.

The basics of teaching do not change much over time. They may have new names, claim to be more efficient - think about how often children have been taught to read via phonics, then phonics are 'out' then they are 'in'.
Whilst reading and enjoying On Teaching, I was trying to think of the market for this book. Perhaps older teachers who themselves want to reminisce, or newcomers to teaching who are curious to see 'how it was done'. I think it would be an excellent text for students at teacher training establishments, along with one or two similar memoirs from teachers of the same era but different countries/languages, it would open their eyes without turning them away from the most noble of professions. ( )