Story 4. Mr Glancy… part two

After the holidays, the very first day with this new teacher started as expected. She barked rules and expectations at us, telling us how things would work in her class. She didn’t want us taking her for a fool - that sort of thing. Not knowing what to do with her undeserved hostility, I tuned out. I didn’t realise that I’d stopped listening to her, until she slammed her hand down onto my pencil case. She had asked me a question. The next few minutes of yelling were a blur. It was something about not listening. I didn’t care, and I knew this was just the beginning. I looked across at Mr Glancy. He was looking from what seemed like the other side of a national border. He looked worried.

I wish I could tell Mr Glancy it turned out okay. I left that day. I went back to a previous school, lets call it school “B”… the very next day. School “B” was in a neighbouring suburb, where we had lived for a couple of years. I had actually been at school “B” the year before, but when we moved, Mr Glancy’s school was a short walk instead of a cycle ride along main roads. School “B” had been okay and I had some good friends who I still visited. My options were, riding my bike across a couple of suburbs, rain hail or shine - or being screamed at daily for a year. I pumped up my bicycle tyres. But school “B” had a notable downside. They divided all students into five levels of ability for each subject. The ability groups were referred to as “top group, second to top, middle, second to bottom and bottom group". Before starting at Mr Glancy’s school, I had been in the second to bottom group for all subjects except for maths - bottom group.

Starting back at school “B” I had to do a test to determine which groups I should go in. I was worried. Recalling the previous year, all I could remember was having fun. I remembered lots of art, sports, playing at lunch… just enjoying myself. I didn’t remember doing much ‘work’ at all. I thought I was going to bomb! Maybe I tried hard to compensate, but a bit of trying doesn’t explain the results. I was placed in the top group for every subject, except for maths, second to top. I was stunned. This was the first time it ever entered my head that any struggles I had weren’t just down to me - that I might be helped or hindered by how others worked with me, how they treated me.

School “B” had very stock-standard teaching routines. No screaming teachers, but nothing particularly inspiring either. At the end of the year we had another test to allocate our classes for the following year. My results had dropped markedly. I was almost back where I was before I left. But something in my outlook had changed. I was angry instead of intimidated this time. “Aren’t they even curious as to why I tested so high - only to go down again after being back at their school?!” No. No-one ever asked.

Mr Glancy was an anomaly - I never had another teacher like him. But his gift to me has endured my whole life. My first insight was that I had potential. A lesson much slower to unfold, is that the way I learned back then is the way I need to work now - with playfulness, autonomy and freedom to explore. It’s how I will do my best work - and it’s what makes the work worthwhile. Back then I was free to learn. Now playfulness and autonomy set me free to do much more, to create something that benefits the world. I don’t think we live (yet) in a culture that approves of this approach - maybe in rhetoric but not in practice. That’s why I’ve decided to create that path for myself, and share what I learn with others.

Dr Celeste Hill

Dr Celeste Hill designs and delivers innovative wellbeing workshops for adults. Nature connection, science and creative exploration are at the heart of her work and her life.

https://naturetoyou.life
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Indoor nature as adaptive …and spiritual?

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Story 3. Mr Glancy… part one