I had a lot of good teachers at King Edward VI Grammar in Chelmsford, but I suspect, in terms of impact on my life, none of them can quite top Gordon Scammell. I’m 33, and in my head he’s still Mr Scammell, you know? Never Gordon. Without him, I doubt I’d be doing what I do now.

He was kind of a maverick. Unconventional, but very, very passionate. He made performing seem incredibly exciting and risky. He actually got us interested in the adrenaline rush that acting gave us. I guess he got us hooked. We believed we were doing something memorable.

The way that he - for want of a better word - sold drama was really smart. His angle was that other kids in our year would be envious of us when we were on stage. It was an incredibly perceptive way to convince us to act.

He would acknowledge that acting was not necessarily natural territory for kids. It’s not as immediately appealing as, say, sport or just hanging out, but actually because of that, nobody will do it. But if you do it, he said, in the long run, people will wish they had, too. I’m not sure if that makes sense, but if it doesn’t, I guess that was the genius of him. He made acting seem like an investment that would pay off. He made it hip to be square.

He also taught us how to manage fear. He didn’t hide away from us the fact that acting is scary. He played up to it. I remember when I was in a play when I was 13 and I was backstage - and by backstage I mean in a classroom somewhere - and I was so scared that I really needed to find a new word to explain what I was feeling. But within five minutes of going on, it was fine. And the lesson was that fear isn’t evidence that something is going to be bad. To quote that cliché, “Feel the fear and do it anyway” - that could have been Mr Scammell’s mantra. Fear is not evidence to be weighed for or against a certain outcome. It’s just something that’s happening to your body. And it was good to discover that really early on in life. Basically, what I’m saying is children should be forced to do things they’re frightened of. But you just can’t say that any more, can you?

Picture a drama teacher. Mr Scammell didn’t look anything like that. He had a huge beard and looked like a fisherman, but quite a grumpy one. I seem to remember him being rather liberal on allowing us to swear in class. It’s almost as if he cut us a deal, I guess: have a bit more freedom with me than you have in other subjects, but be sure to repay that in the form of passion for drama; come to my class knowing we are doing something good here.

He treated us like adults and like individuals. And the result was no disruption. People didn’t dick about. School classes can often feel like a battle and some of the kids in that drama class were disruptive in school, but never in drama. He could be quite pushy. Bolshy, even. He demanded more than his fair share of students’ time and resources, but it was well within the bounds of reasonable behaviour and it gave the school a name for itself when it came to drama.

Drama felt like a topsy-turvy bit of the building where normal rules didn’t apply. That edginess worked for me and it came from him. School should be a place that’s inspiring and exciting, and he made his small bubble both of those things.

Joe Thomas was speaking to Tom Cullen. White Gold is out now on DVD

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