On Remembrance Day 2017, I pulled on my old uniform, placed on my beret and entered the assembly hall at Ark Swift Primary Academy. “Miss Mowbray! You look like a soldier!”

Prior to starting my training with Ark, I was a captain in the British Army Intelligence Corps. It was a job that I had loved almost every moment of. During my service, I had worked with vulnerable people from across the world. What I witnessed during my time in Helmand, Afghanistan, was a society where children were born into mostly hopeless futures. Futures where basic security was absent, hospital care limited and education non-existent for most. At home in Britain, I could think of no career change more rewarding than one dedicated to offering a fair chance and future for our next generation.

There I was, day 30 of teacher training standing in front of 300 questioning faces all wondering why the new trainee teacher was dressed up in combats. The theme of my assembly what the experience of soldiering can teach us about teamwork and persistence. We band around the phrase “stand like a soldier” up and down our school corridors. I wanted us to take a moment to think what it might really mean if we were to “stand like soldiers”, shoulder to shoulder and ready for the challenges ahead.

From the army to primary school

Thinking back to my time in the army, the journey from Cadet Mowbray to fully fledged trained officer had at times seemed insurmountable. Somehow though, after 12 months’ officer training and six months’ trade training, it was time to put it all to the test. I remember my first day on patrol in Afghanistan, full of nerves as I spent most of the afternoon wading through irrigation ditches and sitting in a poppy field chatting with local kids through a translator.

Clinging to various memories of overcoming obstacles from my now previous life, on my first day of term in my West London school I could feel the nerves rising. I scanned the faces of the children who had inspired me to make the jump into teaching. I was met in return with statements such as “your hair is orange” and “you’re not our teacher” as they naturally gravitated towards Miss Millar, the main class teacher and my much-needed mentor.

My first lesson was energising - finally getting to see how I measured up when in front of the whiteboard with 27 five-year-olds sitting expectantly. Their brutally honest body language continues to act as an overt barometer as to whether I am holding their engagement. Mid-lesson comments have ranged from “I love you Miss Mowbray” to deep genuine sighs of “I wish it was lunchtime”.

Even with my short time in the classroom, I have learned so much about dealing with tough and challenging situations. Teaching my students is, of course, a far cry from dealing with insurgents and embattled citizens, but I recall encountering my first testing behaviour days into teaching. Nothing I said seemed to get through to the child. I got myself into hot water by trying countdowns. She knew I was in trouble when I reached two and she still hadn’t moved her feet an inch off the desk. I talked to her about what she wants to be when she’s older, which had worked before. Nothing. I bent down and told her that I understood that she was trying to wind me up and that ultimately I was there because I care about her and I would continue to care about her regardless of her choices. Her eyes filled up, her feet came off the table and we both sat in silence feeling a little overly emotional for a few minutes. 

I have since realised that conflict resolution skills can be part and parcel of life as a teacher as much as being in the army. I remember my first meeting with the village elders in Helmand. After all the years British forces had been in the village you would think they would have become accustomed to a female soldier. Some were overly fascinated while others were not in the least amused, refusing to take tea or water offered by my hand. Still, I think I won them over in the end, because they asked to visit again the following week one took my hand and said: “it is better to have a woman”. Reconciliation between some of my students is often no less complex.

Lessons learned

Being in the classroom was not my first time working with children. In Helmand the impact war, drug addiction and lawlessness had on the children was the hardest part to deal with. You watched the little tots running around in the northern desert, loaded onto the back of motorcycles with insurgents and you knew their futures were set. Even in the village where we were stationed - the protected community, with no education and limited security - you wondered what real future the children would have.

On some days I can’t help but think about the Afghan village in Nar-e-Saraj where I was based. Often, at the end of the day, one particular child’s parent is late for pick up. She enjoys taking this time to teach me Farsi dancing and we prance around the carpet hands on hips in silly play. While it may seem like an unusual move from the army to primary school teaching, for me, right here in the classroom is exactly where I am supposed to be. I have no doubt, thinking about the children in my class, that if we do our jobs to the best of our ability then we will change what the future has to offer them.

There have been some challenging times since starting in September. As a career changer, I think the most difficult thing to come to terms with is the fact that I was used to operating in an environment where I had achieved a certain level of confidence. I now find myself firmly back in the novice category. Preaching to the children about errors being a part of learning has been something that I’ve also had to take on board myself.

So as I stand there, dressed in combats in front of the school, I summarise the key lessons I have learned from my time in the army and remind our pupils that when we ask them to “stand like a soldier” we don’t mean stand up straight and look smart. We are reminding them that, like a soldier, they are a part of a team and that they are capable of so much more than they could ever imagine.

Rachel Mowbray is a trainee teacher at Ark Swift Primary Academy 

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