Don't Blame Racism on Football:
That sorts out the problem -- it's all because of football. Now we can forget about all the myriad places and situations where racism rears its ugly, stupid head, making me ashamed that I am also British.
I should know -- I came here first in the fifties when it was hard to find somewhere to live if you were brown like me. I stayed in homes belonging to other Indians. The next time I came to The United Kingdom (united??) was in 1966. Not much had changed but if there was a trend, it was for the better. I was still forced to rent from other Indians, but I felt less out of place. I stayed a year that time and learned how to get past the obstacles, which all non-whites had to circumvent. Without mentioning it.
After that I came in 1974. Things were distinctly better. There was a Council for immigrants and they gave me advice about work permits and residents' rights. The Home Office was pretty unco-operative. But Being a Maths teacher my kind of person was very much in demand. Like nurses and doctors now. Fluent English and a warped sense of humour helped though friends said I sounded Bombay-Welsh. I survived - just.
In the Maths department in which I worked, in Essex, there were nineteen members of staff. The only two with degrees in Maths were the Head of Department and myself. But I was firmly made to understand that no promotions would come my way -- don't aspire beyond Scale 2. My H O D had occasional nervous breakdowns; I was then expected to teach his classes, order books, help other teachers... Some of our Maths staff were Geography teachers or Needlework teachers and didn't know any Maths.
They were nice people without pretensions. One would bring me x and y equations to solve, one at a time. He did not know that you needed two equations to solve for x and y. Another worried about Vectors and Matrices. She had never come across them in Needlework. What were Unit Matrices about? And I would try to help, all the while glorying in that beautiful, inter-connected edifice, which was Maths at its best. I remember trying to explain Pascal's Triangle to a Maths teacher and the connection with the Binomial expansion. This was S M P Maths and all this was expected. PIE IN THE SKY!
Racism made sure that I never got a promotion, but I was not to mention that word. I could like it or lump it. Eventually I left to teach in Inner London where brown is an accepted hue.
AND THERE WAS NOT A FOOTBALLER IN SIGHT THEN IN MY SCHOOL.
Racism starts at home. And flourishes in school. The only way to stop it is to start where it begins -- home and school. By the time the fans come to watch Spurs it's established like a wart om your body. Now it needs surgery.
Indeed, no child is born racist. Home and school make it so. Don't blame football. The black players are flourishing in all teams and long may that last.
As an educationist, you must expect me to believe all social miracles are made in schools. My only consolation is that today's young are so much more liberal than earlier generations.
That sorts out the problem -- it's all because of football. Now we can forget about all the myriad places and situations where racism rears its ugly, stupid head, making me ashamed that I am also British.
I should know -- I came here first in the fifties when it was hard to find somewhere to live if you were brown like me. I stayed in homes belonging to other Indians. The next time I came to The United Kingdom (united??) was in 1966. Not much had changed but if there was a trend, it was for the better. I was still forced to rent from other Indians, but I felt less out of place. I stayed a year that time and learned how to get past the obstacles, which all non-whites had to circumvent. Without mentioning it.
After that I came in 1974. Things were distinctly better. There was a Council for immigrants and they gave me advice about work permits and residents' rights. The Home Office was pretty unco-operative. But Being a Maths teacher my kind of person was very much in demand. Like nurses and doctors now. Fluent English and a warped sense of humour helped though friends said I sounded Bombay-Welsh. I survived - just.
In the Maths department in which I worked, in Essex, there were nineteen members of staff. The only two with degrees in Maths were the Head of Department and myself. But I was firmly made to understand that no promotions would come my way -- don't aspire beyond Scale 2. My H O D had occasional nervous breakdowns; I was then expected to teach his classes, order books, help other teachers... Some of our Maths staff were Geography teachers or Needlework teachers and didn't know any Maths.
They were nice people without pretensions. One would bring me x and y equations to solve, one at a time. He did not know that you needed two equations to solve for x and y. Another worried about Vectors and Matrices. She had never come across them in Needlework. What were Unit Matrices about? And I would try to help, all the while glorying in that beautiful, inter-connected edifice, which was Maths at its best. I remember trying to explain Pascal's Triangle to a Maths teacher and the connection with the Binomial expansion. This was S M P Maths and all this was expected. PIE IN THE SKY!
Racism made sure that I never got a promotion, but I was not to mention that word. I could like it or lump it. Eventually I left to teach in Inner London where brown is an accepted hue.
AND THERE WAS NOT A FOOTBALLER IN SIGHT THEN IN MY SCHOOL.
Racism starts at home. And flourishes in school. The only way to stop it is to start where it begins -- home and school. By the time the fans come to watch Spurs it's established like a wart om your body. Now it needs surgery.
Indeed, no child is born racist. Home and school make it so. Don't blame football. The black players are flourishing in all teams and long may that last.
As an educationist, you must expect me to believe all social miracles are made in schools. My only consolation is that today's young are so much more liberal than earlier generations.
