Dressing the part · Tue Apr 4, 20:50 by Eleri Straker
I’m known in school as the ‘weird one’ or the ‘hippy.’ One lad even suggested to his form tutor, a departmental colleague of mine, that I was probably very strange and lived on my own with loads of cats! This was before he had ever been taught by me. Since then, he has learned that yes, I probably am very strange, but I don’t have any cats. Nor do I live on my own. Oh yes, and I have dogs.
My image as the ‘weird’ or ‘eccentric’ member of the department is actually not accidental. It has been deliberately and carefully cultivated over the years. What makes me ‘weird’ to my unforgivably conventional teenage students, is a refusal to conform. I wear brightly coloured Doc Marten’s boots with long, flowing skirts. I’ve also been known to sing in class (but that’s another story).
My clothes are both comfortable and striking. It means every student knows exactly who I am, and this is a good thing.
My choice of footwear is deliberate. The boots are comfortable (vital if you spend most of your day on your feet, or on a desk!) They are safe, with amazing grips – very useful on wet concrete stairs. And they are, most importantly, distinctive. I know as an absolute fact that no other member of staff wears bright pink Doc Marten’s to school! It’s also interesting that on the very few occasions on which I choose to be tidy and wear high heeled black boots, I am invariably asked by my students if I’m feeling all right, or if I’m in a bad mood. If I ask the reason for the question, I get told that since my footwear is usually brightly coloured, as I’m wearing black, I must obviously be in a bad mood! I think you have to be a teenager to understand the logic of that one!
The long skirts counteract the ‘bovver boy’ image of the boots. But if, like me, you frequently sit or stand on chairs and tables (you can’t do Shakespeare sitting down and be effective!) the long skirts (or trousers if I’m feeling boring) are necessary both for dramatic impact and practicality.
Not bowing to sartorial convention is interesting. It wrong-foots the students. They never know quite what to expect, something that keeps them on their toes. Which is always a good thing.
I’ve been doing the ‘weird’ thing for so long now that I don’t think about it, until a visiting potential teacher comments on it. Then, when asked if I mind that the students find me and my dress sense strange, I tell them that as well as keeping the children on their toes, it is also, in a strange way, somewhat reassuring as they know that their English teacher is weird and there is an odd sort of security in that knowledge.
They all know exactly who I am. I may be the ‘weird one’ or the ‘hippy,’ but at least they know me. And that, surely, for a teacher, can’t be bad.
