Free The Other Side of the Dale by Gervase Phinn Page B

quizzed, after the lesson, ‘what was the point of going laboriously through all the words for “thief” at the beginning of the lesson? What was the rationale for it? Why did you not merely explain the class was to study the poem
The Highwayman,
read it, talk a little about it and get on with the discussion?’
    ‘Ah, my dear Mr Phinn,’ replied the teacher stroking the thinning sandy hair and blinking rapidly, ‘I believe in getting the pupils’ ideas and points of view rather than merely expounding my own. One should always value the opinions and ideas of others. Children are not empty vessels to be filled up with a few arid facts, you know. They are delicate plants that need careful and sensitive nurturing.’
    I was stumped for an answer and instead watched as he carefully took a small, polished brass box from his waistcoat pocket, tapped it gently and clicked open the lid before asking, ‘Do you take snuff?’
    The next English lesson I observed was quite a contrast. The young woman teacher chaired an immensely lively and good-humoured debate on the set examination text of
Macbeth,
with a large group of fifteen-year-olds. She challenged their views, encouraged them to defend their ideas, asked for examples and illustrations and remindedthem of the various stage productions they had been to see. She involved the whole of the group in an animated discussion on the play. It was an immensely impressive lesson. These pupils were certainly not empty vessels filled with a few arid facts but had been stimulated to express their own opinions and have some independence of thought.
    At the conclusion of the inspection day at West Challerton High School, I read the first draft of my report to the Headmaster, a large, bluff, outspoken Yorkshireman who nodded thoughtfully throughout.
    ‘Aye well, Mr Phinn, you’ve told me a lot that I already know, particularly about Mr Palmer who I agree is past his sell-by date, but you’ve added a few ideas of your own that I would take issue with.’ He then challenged a number of my conclusions. We argued and debated for a while but I stood my ground steadfastly and said I felt the conclusions were fair and based on firm and extensive evidence. I added that the report in general was a very favourable one and the Headmaster should not dwell on the relatively few criticisms. I added that he appeared to be taking them personally.
    ‘Well, what can I do, Mr Phinn, but take them personally? I am, after all, in charge of the school and when the school is attacked it’s the Headteacher who bleeds.’
    We parted on amicable terms and he escorted me to the entrance. ‘Is it Welsh?’ he asked.
    ‘Pardon?’
    ‘Your name? Is it a Welsh name?’
    ‘I’ve had this conversation before with your Head of English,’ I replied. ‘No, it’s French actually. French-Norman. St Gervase was a Roman martyr put to death under the Emperor Nero. It was a popular name in medieval times. I believe William the Conqueror had several knightsof that name with him when he invaded. The name literally means “spear carrier”.’
    The Headmaster gave a wry smile. ‘ “Spear carrier” eh? Well, that’s very appropriate for a school inspector.’
    ‘Yes, I suppose it is,’ I replied. ‘I always seem to be on the sharp end of things in this line of work.’
    ‘I wasn’t meaning that,’ said the Headmaster. ‘I have always been of the opinion that school inspectors are like cross-eyed javelin throwers. They hurl a lot of spears in the direction of schools, missing the point most of the time, but occasionally, and by sheer accident, they happen to hit the right target. Good afternoon to you, Mr Phinn.’

7
    ‘I must say when I heard the name Gervase Phinn, I had visions of a huge, red-headed, hot-tempered Irishman,’ murmured the tall, bearded, larger-than-life character who sat next to me. ‘Gervase Phinn,’ he repeated. ‘It is such a wonderfully esoteric and imaginative name. It has a sort of