From the Assistant Principal

It’s the Little Things 

 

It’s lunchtime as I’m writing this.

 

Outside my window, a group of Grade 4 girls have broken into an a cappella rendition of the Backstreet Boys’ I Want It That Way. I smile.

 

Whenever I get asked why I work in education - why I became a teacher - it’s because of these moments. The little moments, often in between the actual teaching, that refill my sometimes-cynical bucket and remind me why I got into, and stay in, this profession.

 

I was also lucky to have brilliant teachers growing up - teachers who saw me, really saw me, and made me feel like I mattered. Thinking about these 'little things' takes me back to two moments that, I imagine, gave my teachers the same feeling I had watching those Grade 4 girls: Yep… this is why I do this.

 

The first was in Year 5. I was writing a story, and my teacher genuinely told me it was incredible. Funny. That I had a real talent for writing. They added - very kindly - that if I fixed a few spelling mistakes, more people might enjoy it. I felt like a superhero, wielding an amazing new power.

 

I’ve since re-read that story. 

It was bad. 

Just… bad.

 

But somehow, my teacher built my confidence to the point where I thought, Yeah, I could do this writing thing for life. That’s a kind of magic.

 

The second moment was in Year 11. My Chemistry teacher - who had been my Science teacher since Year 7 - walked straight out of the Year 12 Chemistry exam and sat with me to talk through the paper. I’m certain there were more pressing things to do (I have more pressing things to do right now than reminiscing about 2004), but sometimes teachers just follow their heart.

 

I’ve written in past newsletters about the science of teaching. What I haven’t touched on as much is the art - knowing the right thing to say at the right time, knowing when to veer off course because you can feel it’s worth it.

 

A couple of weeks ago, one of our Foundation teachers came to me a little nervously with an idea. Her class had been joking that, instead of principals, Carly and I were… Princessipals. She’d pivoted and had her students write The Daring Adventures of Assistant Princessipal Mat. I was invited in to read their stories, to howls of laughter.

 

 

I guess my Book Character Dress-Up Day costume has now been decided for me.

 

It’s pretty incredible to do what we do. Don’t get me wrong - it’s hard work. Most days are more Jackson Pollock than Monet. But it’s the little things that remind us… 

Working in education is the best job in the world.

 

Mat Williamson

Assistant Princessipal (and TELL ME WHY… ain’t nothin’ like a heartache)