Religious Education remembered..

Quite a different tone with this one. There was something that I was reminded of a week or so ago that I felt was perhaps worth noting down. In fact, it's one of those things that I'm reminded of every now and then. I guess it's a moment that has stuck with me.

At secondary school I had a Religious Education teacher. At the time, this is when I was about 14 or 15, I was pretty much a total atheist. My outlook was basically a materialistic, scientific one. Like a teenage Richard Dawkins. I just deemed all religion completely backwards and devoid of any reason. Consequently, though I was a good, well-behaved kid, I didn't have the slightest bit of respect for the lesson. Or for the teacher really.

Again, I was a fairly good child, so I was never rude or outwardly disrespectful, but deep down I had zero regard for it all. My maths and science teachers I thought were very smart indeed (which they were), but the RE teacher. Though she was a nice woman I never really held her in high esteem. To put it blunt I didn't respect her intelligence.

She was openly known to be a Christian too. I remember kids would mention it to each other - "Mrs So-and-so, she's a Christian y'know". Like it was something odd enough to be worthy of note.

So I kind of dismissed her. I paid lip service to the lessons and did the work, but always viewed them as a skive. I could relax and not worry too much about not getting good marks. I even enjoyed the days when I had RE on my timetable, as I almost viewed it as an extra break I cared so little for the subject.

Anyway, getting to the point of note - the moment that stuck with me. It occurred in a lesson where we were discussing abortion.

Looking back the curriculum must have been quite progressive. We were generally learning about other cultures and discussing social issues and such. 90's level woke I guess. Though at the time, in my ignorance, I just felt like I was having 'religion' pushed on me.

"It's called 'Religious Education' - they're making me learn about religion!!"

Though the teacher was a practicing Christian she taught it all very much to the curriculum, doing her job diligently, without pushing her own values in lessons. I only really knew she was a Christian because other kids would mention it. As noted above.

Actually, I remember sometimes cheekier kids would ask her; "Do you believe in God, Miss?" and she'd answer and say she did, then try to give some kind of answer as to why. Always on the back foot in a classroom full of little unbelievers, who regarded her as slightly mad because of it. Like they had a teacher who believed in fairies or Sasquatch. Which was precisely how I viewed her.

Returning to the abortion debate though. For our project we were split into groups and had to discuss the issue. The pros and cons, the arguments for and against. As I was a little micro-Dawkins back then I was obviously very much pro-abortion. I also grew up in a left-leaning, Labour household so my views were informed by that as well. My mam, who was pro-abortion too at that time, had given me all the usual arguments in favour of it. Backstreet abortions, mothers not being able to feed their children, the notion that foetuses are 'just cells'. The feminist-framed line. Likewise I was fully on board with the whole environmental catastrophism stuff, and the fears of over-population.

A micro-Dawkins or mini-Malthus I guess.

In the classroom debate I expressed all these views to the other kids on my table. With all the confidence of someone who knew with absolute certainty he was right. I didn't for a moment consider I might be wrong. Surely only uneducated people and horrible right-wingers could think overwise.

As I expressed all this though I remember looking up and seeing this teacher looking over at me, and she looked really, really sad. Not angry, she didn't tell me off. She didn't even say anything, or even express her own opinion in the lesson. In fact, I ended up with an 'A' in my GCSE RE, so she certainly didn't mark me down or hold it against me. She just looked very, very sad. Like I'd said something truly heart-breaking.

The look in her eyes really struck me at the time, and I didn't quite understand it. Of course, I had absolute certainty in the rightness of my own views, so I didn't even consider changing my opinion. It was only many, many years later when my views began shifting on the issue, but still, it made a deep impression on me.

That feeling when you know you've said something that's truly saddened someone. It really caught me off guard.

Now I'm older though I actually find myself in her position quite often. Listening to some of the words coming out of the mouths of younger people who've been brainwashed into believing quite horrific things. I remember when I first had that experience and I suddenly realised; "Aah, that's how she must have felt". Watching a well-behaved, swotty kid like myself casually talking about culling unborn children to save the planet. With no emotional depth or real concern or knowledge for what I was advocating.

So now I totally get why she was so sad, and I can empathise with how hard it must have been for her to helplessly teach that curriculum to children, whilst having to hold her own views back.

Falling stars..

Finally, one other thing I remember that stuck with me was one of the reasons she gave for why she believed in God. Having been asked, as she often was, by a curious pupil.

She told a story of how a family member had died, and as she was sat in the back of a car travelling home following the death she started to doubt her faith in God because of it. She prayed inwardly to herself and asked; "God, if you're real show me sign, I want to see a shooting star". She looked from the window, but saw nothing, and travelled back distraught.

Then later however when she arrived home her sister asked, "Did you see that shooting star as we were driving home?".

Again, at the time I was naturally dismissive. "Even if she did see a shooting star it will have just been a coincidence" I thought. "That's even if the story is actually true."

Still though, seeing an adult sincerely tell this story was odd enough that it must have impressed itself upon me. So much so that I can still recall it now.

It's strange how these small things can leave such a lasting impression. I wonder if these two moments have influenced my owns views in some way. Or if they're just things I can now empathise with as I've grown older.

Either way that teacher, that I had so little time for and so few interactions with, left a deep imprint on me. Perhaps much more so than all the other teachers that I had more time for.

A good Christian woman.