ABSTRACT
I have to confess a secret addiction to reality TV programmes. You know the sort, groups of strange young men pretending to be legionnaires or very unpleasant yobettes trying to be ladies, etc. Recently I watched a series called The Unteachables about the most unruly and difficult young teenagers the TV company could lay their hands on being collected together and sent to an outward-bound school with the best teachers they could find. The results were mixed and on the whole very heart ening, but what really hit home was a picture of the most difficult of the pupils not to have been actually thrown out, convulsed in uncontrollable sobbing at the end of the penultimate programme. Why was this? Had he been beaten? Had he been expelled at the last? No, he had just read his detailed report. So it was bad then? No, it was good. So why the sobbing? asked the presenter. He managed to stutter out that this was the first time anyone had ever said anything good about him. 'I am happy and I am upset', he actually said. The next week they gave him a young class to teach by himself. At the end of the excellent lesson he singled out the three weakest pupils and praised them in front of their form mates; it was inspirational, humbling and it took me 20 minutes to get the lump out of my throat.
