make of World War One?’
‘Hardly kids, they’re fifteen.’
‘OK, what do your students make of World War One?’
She smiled. ‘World War One was last week; this week we’re fighting World War Two.’
‘My, how time flies.’
‘We have to reach Margaret Thatcher and the impact of the Miners’ strike by the end of the month.’
‘From 1939 to 1984 in eight days? Your students will be dizzy. You’re dashing them through a whole century.’
Piet nodded as she neatly inscribed a mark in the margin. ‘Needs must. They have their year end test in June.’
‘Poor wretches.’
‘In years to come I don’t think many of them will worry too much over which British Prime Minister declared war on Germany in 1939.’
‘But the irony is that even though the Allies beat the Nazis – those lords of untruth – we don’t teach our children history: we immerse them in propaganda.’
‘James.’ She shot me a warning glance. ‘Not this again.’
‘It’s true.’
‘Maybe, but I’m a history teacher not Minister for Education.’
‘But do you present your pupils with at least some of those historical facts that are always overlooked?’
‘I’d love to, you know that, James. But teachers don’t have time to deviate from the syllabus.’
‘The government approved syllabus.’
‘The government approved syllabus,’ she repeated with a sigh. ‘Yes. I know it’s unsatisfactory … just what am I supposed to do?’
‘Take time to give them the facts they’d never normally hear.’
‘Then I don’t meet my curriculum deadlines; that’s when I don’t get next year’s teaching contract.’
‘And that’s when you end up unemployed like me.’
‘You’re not unemployed.’ Her expression hardened as she returned to marking the books. ‘You’re an archeologist, James. One who is between placements.’
This was a point that was sore to say the least, so I skated round it. ‘But we brainwash our children into believing a standardized version of history.’
‘I know, James. That’s the way it is.’
‘That’s what they said when they were burning witches.’
‘OK, I agree.’ Her eyes flashed. ‘Today I taught them about the Allied invasion of Normandy on D-Day. I told them about the American and British amphibious landings, but I committed the customary sin of not mentioning that there were Commonwealth soldiers there. Nor did I tell them that there were exiled German troops fighting on our side. Or, for that matter, the Second World War didn’t start simply because Germany invaded Poland. Russia attacked Poland the same day as the Germans. We only declared war because Britain had a binding pact with Poland that we’d fight Germany if they crossed Polish borders. Britain turned a blind eye to Russia’s aggression.’
‘It’s not just the wars, it’s the whole view of history. On television if you see a costume drama set in Tudor times it’s full of white faces but in sixteenth-century London you’d find black men and women, too. By the time of Queen Victoria you could go to a restaurant and stuff your face with a curry. In 1897 the streets weren’t full of horse-drawn vehicles, it’s a little known fact that—’
‘There were electric cars, I know.’
‘So instead of the clip-clop of the hansom cab on a foggy night in Baker Street you could just as easily hear the purr of battery-powered Bersey Hummingbirds, carrying the great and the bloody good home from their dinner parties. Or that …’ I stopped, then gave an apologetic smile. ‘I’m preaching to the converted again, aren’t I?’
‘You are, James.’ She returned my smile. ‘You’re perfectly right, of course.’ She tapped a history textbook with the tip of her pen. ‘This is dogma, not history.’ With a sigh she put the last marked book onto the pile. ‘Another propaganda drone has completed her task of indoctrinating the young for the day. All done.’
‘I’m sorry for lecturing you,’ I told her.
‘Hardly kids, they’re fifteen.’
‘OK, what do your students make of World War One?’
She smiled. ‘World War One was last week; this week we’re fighting World War Two.’
‘My, how time flies.’
‘We have to reach Margaret Thatcher and the impact of the Miners’ strike by the end of the month.’
‘From 1939 to 1984 in eight days? Your students will be dizzy. You’re dashing them through a whole century.’
Piet nodded as she neatly inscribed a mark in the margin. ‘Needs must. They have their year end test in June.’
‘Poor wretches.’
‘In years to come I don’t think many of them will worry too much over which British Prime Minister declared war on Germany in 1939.’
‘But the irony is that even though the Allies beat the Nazis – those lords of untruth – we don’t teach our children history: we immerse them in propaganda.’
‘James.’ She shot me a warning glance. ‘Not this again.’
‘It’s true.’
‘Maybe, but I’m a history teacher not Minister for Education.’
‘But do you present your pupils with at least some of those historical facts that are always overlooked?’
‘I’d love to, you know that, James. But teachers don’t have time to deviate from the syllabus.’
‘The government approved syllabus.’
‘The government approved syllabus,’ she repeated with a sigh. ‘Yes. I know it’s unsatisfactory … just what am I supposed to do?’
‘Take time to give them the facts they’d never normally hear.’
‘Then I don’t meet my curriculum deadlines; that’s when I don’t get next year’s teaching contract.’
‘And that’s when you end up unemployed like me.’
‘You’re not unemployed.’ Her expression hardened as she returned to marking the books. ‘You’re an archeologist, James. One who is between placements.’
This was a point that was sore to say the least, so I skated round it. ‘But we brainwash our children into believing a standardized version of history.’
‘I know, James. That’s the way it is.’
‘That’s what they said when they were burning witches.’
‘OK, I agree.’ Her eyes flashed. ‘Today I taught them about the Allied invasion of Normandy on D-Day. I told them about the American and British amphibious landings, but I committed the customary sin of not mentioning that there were Commonwealth soldiers there. Nor did I tell them that there were exiled German troops fighting on our side. Or, for that matter, the Second World War didn’t start simply because Germany invaded Poland. Russia attacked Poland the same day as the Germans. We only declared war because Britain had a binding pact with Poland that we’d fight Germany if they crossed Polish borders. Britain turned a blind eye to Russia’s aggression.’
‘It’s not just the wars, it’s the whole view of history. On television if you see a costume drama set in Tudor times it’s full of white faces but in sixteenth-century London you’d find black men and women, too. By the time of Queen Victoria you could go to a restaurant and stuff your face with a curry. In 1897 the streets weren’t full of horse-drawn vehicles, it’s a little known fact that—’
‘There were electric cars, I know.’
‘So instead of the clip-clop of the hansom cab on a foggy night in Baker Street you could just as easily hear the purr of battery-powered Bersey Hummingbirds, carrying the great and the bloody good home from their dinner parties. Or that …’ I stopped, then gave an apologetic smile. ‘I’m preaching to the converted again, aren’t I?’
‘You are, James.’ She returned my smile. ‘You’re perfectly right, of course.’ She tapped a history textbook with the tip of her pen. ‘This is dogma, not history.’ With a sigh she put the last marked book onto the pile. ‘Another propaganda drone has completed her task of indoctrinating the young for the day. All done.’
‘I’m sorry for lecturing you,’ I told her.
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