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I was 39 when I had my first job interview. Before then I’d generally worked in places where I’d seen a card in the window and wandered in off the street. I’d say, “Is the job still going?” and some surly bloke (it was almost always a bloke in the 1970s), would look me up and down and ask, “When can you start?” which was usually straight away (if I was wearing shoes) as I’d mostly just been sacked or walked out of the most recent café/shop/pub. Work was plentiful then and staff were scarce, especially decent, hardworking staff.
So it was a bit of a shock in the 1990s, when the tables had turned and as an almost qualified teacher I had to sell myself in a buyer’s market. Fucking hell.
Luckily I had help with the monstrous, endless, diabolical gazillion page application form – so hard to account for all those years of never lasting a month in any job (here’s a top tip: claim to have worked tirelessly in a business that’s expired), and that’s without the godawful personal statement. Jeez, what a nightmare. My honest response would have been something like, ‘Give me a bloody job, ffs, I need the money and I’ll try not to fuck it up, honest,’ but no, you had to write a whole paragraph about what you believe to be the purpose of education and several more on your own personal approach. Sigh. Not ‘Rule one, don’t get caught.’ Welcome to the world of bullshit.
We were also advised to visit schools where we intended applying, to make an impression, be the face behind the form. So I put on a clean frock, brushed my hair and off I went. I was met by a ‘runner’, a cheery teenager lurking in reception to be helpful as required. She was definitely chatty. I may be a bit chatty. By the time we reached the Head of English’s office we were pals. I knew which were her favourite lessons (English and PE) and teachers (I couldn’t possibly say), and least favourite members of Take That (Howard and Jason, obvs). She knew I’d never had a proper interview and was a bit scared. She reassured me that I’d be fine, that Mr Turner was sound and departed with a thumbs up and a stage whispered, “See you in September!” followed by a big cackling giggle.
Just as well, as I did a crap interview, but my ability to form an instant connection with arsey teens swung it for me.
11:21 p.m. - 11.09.23
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