Shappi Khorsandi is a comedian and writer who regularly hosts sell-out tours across the UK. She has also appeared on numerous TV and radio panel shows, and is the author of two books, Nina is Not OK and A Beginner’s Guide to Acting English, the latter covering much of her time at school.

She chatted to Tes about her school days, describing what an important role her primary played in helping her and her family settle in the country after they had to flee Iran because of the revolution.

In particular, she explains how a series of great teachers helped guide her through the educational maze and made a lasting impression on her - including achieving an A in A-level English - something she still considers one of her greatest triumphs.

1. Where did you go to primary school?

I went to Montpelier Primary School in Ealing, West London, and I loved every second that I spent there.

We had come from Iran and everything at home was in the Iranian language because, like a lot of refugees, we thought we’d go home. So my parents were always saying: “Oh no, don’t speak English at home because then, when we go back to Iran and you go to school in Iran, you won’t have Farsi.”

But I threw myself headlong into school because that was England to me. I started to speak as posh as I possibly could [because] there would be occasions where we’d be in Marks & Spencer and my mum would take her trolley through the nine items or fewer counter, and someone would say “bloody foreigner” and, as a child, that would make me smart a bit. And I thought that if I said to them [puts on a clipped received pronunciation accent]: “I’m so sorry, my mum didn’t see the sign,” then that would put them in their place a bit.

2. Was language ever a barrier for you?

I remember when I couldn’t speak English, I got my “yes” and “no” muddled up. The teacher, at the end of the class, would ask someone if they’d like to sing a nursery rhyme for everyone. And she asked me and I said, “No!”, meaning “Yes!”, and she went, “Oh, never mind then,” and asked someone else to sing.

I didn’t have enough English to say “I meant ‘yes’”, so I started crying. Then she pulled me on to her lap and I watched some other girls sing Baa Baa Black Sheep, seething with jealousy, but also quite happy about getting to sit on the teacher’s lap. So not having the English language is something I remember very clearly - it was a source of huge frustration for me.

3. Did a teacher help you with that?

What happened to me and my brother with our English was a wonderful woman called Mrs Gadd, who was one of the teachers there. She would sit with us at lunchtimes and work on our English with us. To get that one-to-one attention as a kid - and be able to be quiet and not be overwhelmed in the playground in a new country - the effect it had on me was that when I went to high school, I volunteered to work with refugee children in the school.

4. Did you ever see her again?

About five or six years ago, I got in touch with Mrs Gadd and I took my children to her house, and we had tea and sandwiches, and I said to her: “You have no idea of what you meant to our family - but you meant a huge amount.”

This happened because she had read my book [A Beginner’s Guide to Acting English], where I talked about her, and then I did a show at Ealing Town Hall, and this gentleman came up to me and said: “Hello. My wife is here to see you. Her name is Mrs Gadd,” and I just threw myself at her. I recognised her instantly and I just cuddled her and cried a bit, and said: “In all the confusion and anxiety of what we were going through, people like you were like angels to us.”

5. Do you have any other strong memories from that school?

Christmas was always really big at school. Some people felt sorry for me when I would say that we didn’t celebrate Christmas at home but we got so excited because, for us, glitter and making the paper chains and Santa coming to school - that was Christmas.

Although, I was absolutely devastated because I never got to be Mary in the school play. One year, the teacher said: “Mary is from the Middle East so we have chosen someone who is also from the Middle East to play Mary.” And I thought it was me, but they chose this girl Natasha, who was only half Iranian. It really stung. I carried that agony through all my life and then, a few years ago, my daughter was cast as Mary in the school play and it was quite a moment - I felt that all the pain of the past had melted away.

6. Did you go on any notable trips or days out?

I remember going on a school trip to the Isle of Wight and the food we were served in the hotel was really soggy chips - I just couldn’t eat it. One teacher, very sympathetically, said to me: “I suppose you’re used to more spicy food where you’re from,” and put a bit of pepper on it, which was adorable.

7. Do you have good memories of any secondary school teachers?

There was one called Mrs Mackenzie, who was our sociology teacher. Sociology blew my mind because it really appealed to my curiosity about the world. It was looking outside of our school and our world.

We would learn about twins who were separated at birth and had stuff in common - nature versus nurture - and we talked about social class and we talked about the ozone layer.

She was the first teacher we had who talked to us like we were individual people.

8. Did you do any performing during your time there?

I wrote a play for our house drama festival - a sort of adult Little Red Riding Hood - and then everyone was auditioning for parts and I was directing it, and all these girls I was terrified of were clamouring to be in my play.

It was the most exciting thing I’ve ever experienced because, before that, no one ever gave me the time of day but they all wanted to be involved. I remember one girl, Tracy, she cornered me in a playground and she goes: “Make my part bigger, yeah? Make it bigger!” So I gave her a few more lines.

And then we performed this play. I had such little self-confidence, I didn’t even give myself a part, but I stood in the wings and everyone was laughing, and that feeling of people laughing because of words I’ve written - that was the best feeling.

9. Did you ever get into trouble?

I didn’t draw any attention to myself so I never got into trouble usually. I did get into one fight but that was when I was defending someone and this girl just attacked me [instead]. But what she didn’t realise was that, for all my meekness and my quietness, I had grown up scrapping with a big brother, so I ’ad her!

I remember the teacher hauling us apart and saying: “Shaparak [Shappi’s full forename], I didn’t expect this of you.” I said it was self-defence but I was quite proud of myself.

10. Is there anyone else you recall with fondness from your education?

There was a teacher at my sixth-form college called Vicki Kingston. And she clocked that I wrote poetry for fun, so she set up a poetry club in lunchtimes once a week that I went along to. She bought me a notebook and said “fill it up”.

I loved English. I always loved English and then, in my A levels, I was queuing to get our A-level results and there was a girl in front of me, and her French teacher came up to her and said: “You got an A for French.” And she leapt up in the air, and I thought: “How wonderful to get an A. Your mum must be so proud. Imagine getting an A,” because I had never got an A in my life.

And then I looked on the board and I saw my name and it said, theatre studies, C, communication studies, C, English, A.

And I thought: “Well that can’t be right.” So I got my finger against my name and I had got an A for my English A level. And that changed my life - I’m getting a bit emotional talking about it - because getting an A for my English A level, after everything that I had thought of myself - that was not relevant anymore because I got an A.

And it was [down to] Vicky Kingston seeing that I was writing a poem and she saw talent in me. To this day, it’s my greatest achievement and the thing that I feel launched me into the world as someone that believed in themselves. It really ignited a self-belief in me that didn’t exist.

Shappi Khorsandi was speaking to Dan Worth, senior editor at Tes. This article originally appeared in the 28 May 2021 issue