I went to about eight schools - all private, due to my late father's nomadic lifestyle but the best school by far was an old style boarding school in Hertfordshire, where you had your own desk with it's inkwell set in to the desk, you all sat facing the front, and Sir would come in with a mandatory suit and tie.  He'd put his briefcase on the table and say good morning to which you all stood up and replied "Good morning, Sir." sat down and got on with your work.  We were no angels.  If we misbehaved we got the cane.  Full stop.  BUT, you knew the score.  Our maths teacher took a very keen interest in how things progressed.  There were about twenty of us in a class, and he split us up into about three groups.  There were three or four eggheads - way, way ahead of the rest of the group.  He set them G.C.E. O-level work - not GCSE but proper examination paper stuff to stop them getting bored and disruptive.  Then there was the run of the mill group, and then finally there were three or four absolute dunderheads who, through no fault of their own would never make the grade academically.  To stop them dreaming away for the next forty minutes, he set them very easy work.  I wasn't all that hot on maths so he set me work separately.  Then one day, he set me long multiplication including the use of decimal points.  I gulped when I saw it.  He smiled.  "Do you know how to do it, Woody"

"No, Sir."  I replied.

"Well don't be frightened.  Pull a chair up and sit next to me, and I'll show you how it's done."  No eggageration, five minutes later I was on my own, because he really knew his job.  Fast forward to my daughter's school when she was about twelve, and it was all open plan, four desks sat facing one another and "Sir" was strolling round in corduroys and a roll-neck sweater.  If "Sir" answers to the name of John and is one of the lads being everybody's friend, where are their peers?  Who do the kids have to look up to?