SARAH VINE: A woman who stood for all that's best about our schools

By Sarah Vine for The Daily Mail

Published: 19:01 EST, 29 April 2014 | Updated: 00:54 EST, 30 April 2014

Looking into those smiley brown eyes, I can just imagine what kind of teacher Ann Maguire was.

The kind who listened; the kind who understood; the person to turn to in a crisis, whether academic or personal.

Not necessarily a pushover — you don't teach four generations of pupils at a West Yorkshire comprehensive without learning a few things about the innate naughtiness of teenagers; nevertheless, a teacher with a pastoral bent.

Caring: Mrs Maguire was described as a 'wonderful' teacher, who had touched the hearts of three generations of pupils

The kind who brings out the best in every child, even those who seem the most lost.

That a woman who contributed so positively to so many young lives should die at the hands of one of her pupils is not only shocking beyond words, it is also a bitter irony.

The boy alleged to have killed her, we understand, was a troubled loner, a goth whose Facebook page was decorated with a drawing of the Grim Reaper. 

Police confirm the fatal stabbing of 'inspirational' RE teacher

Apparently suicidal, he took alcohol to school, and shunned the company of fellow pupils and friendly adults.

In the many outpourings on social media after Mrs Maguire's death, she was described as the one teacher 'who never wrote anybody off'.

Could it be that her dedication was the very thing that drew his anger? Did her warmth and vitality offend her killer; did he despise the brightness and hope she represented?

Grim Reaper: The image the teenage suspect in the murder of Corpus Christi Catholic College teacher Ann Maguire used for his Facebook profile

Is the death of Mrs Maguire proof that, as the U.S. writer and politician Clare Boothe Luce once said, no good deed goes unpunished?

No doubt the precise facts and motives of the case will emerge in due course.

Until then, many questions remain: why did the boy have a knife in school, what triggered the assault, could it have been prevented, how can we guard against further tragedies of this nature?

There will be theory, speculation, and, no doubt, a lot of pontificating.

But one thing will never change: Mrs Maguire represented everything that is good and miraculous about state education in Britain.

Her death is not only a personal tragedy for those who knew and loved her; it is also a tragedy for all those teachers who, like Mrs Maguire, see teaching not just as a job that pays the rent, but as a vocation, a calling every bit as heartfelt as that which draws men and women to the cloth.

'R.I.P. Mrs Maguire, you was the best, most caring teacher . . . may you rest in piece', reads one of the notes from a pupil outside the school.

The grammar and spelling is atrocious, but, as Mrs Maguire would have known, sometimes that's not the most important task teachers face.

Tributes pour in for stabbed teacher Ann Maguire

As another former pupil put it, 'You didn't have to be a good pupil to love her'. So many of us owe our success in life to the Mrs Maguires of this world.

My own, as it happens, was also an Ann, ostensibly a biology teacher but in reality so much more: surrogate parent, mentor, inspiration and an almost saintly source of patience and understanding — not to mention hot buttered toast and strong tea.

Without my Ann, I would never have made it to university, let alone grown up to be a shouty lady columnist on a national newspaper.

Those who knew Mrs Maguire have said that she would have forgiven her killer. Perhaps.

But what would be unforgivable would be if future Mrs Maguires were deterred from following their vocation. For without them, there really is no hope.

'Tragic incident' Police continue teacher stabbing investigation

I DON'T envy Mrs Clooney

George Clooney is engaged to Amal Alamuddin, pictured here leaving a restaurant in London

I can't imagine anything worse than being engaged to George Clooney.

Sure, you'd never want for coffee; but can you imagine the nightmare of having to beat off armies of fame-hungry blonde airheads intent on hogging the limelight?

Then again, Amal Alamuddin has plenty of experience in that arena: the human rights lawyer has represented Wikileaks founder Julian Assange in the past.

With the introduction of Paym, a new mobile phone banking service, and the abolition of the old £50 note, cash is no longer king. In fact, just £17.99 out of every £100 spent is via notes; even the smallest of purchases can now be done by card.

Convenient it may be; but it also makes it so much easier to overspend. On holiday in Turkey last week, I had to pay for almost everything in cash — and boy did I feel it.

There's something about the physical act of handing over notes that really brings home the amounts you are spending.

If parting with money wasn't so easy, perhaps we would all think twice about frittering it away. But then that's the last thing the banks want...

I love Radio 4's Woman's Hour, I really do. If ever they ask me on as a guest, I jump, eager to curry favour with the nation's head girls, Jenni Murray and Jane Garvey.

But there's one recent addition that I just don't get: the Woman's Hour Power List.

It's not the people on the list, who range from JK Rowling to Doreen Lawrence, it's the list itself that bothers me.

There's something so incredibly male about a Power List. Biggest, fastest, loudest. It's all just a bit, well, Jeremy Clarkson.

One of the joys of WH is that it's an area of unbridled femininity in an otherwise male-dominated arena — i.e, most of the rest of the BBC.

Turning this happy sisterhood into a Competition for Power just seems so out of character.
Can't WH leave the showing off to John Humphrys?

It's no shock to find that Cruz Beckham, son of sporting god David, is a demon striker whose team lifted the West Middlesex  & Hayes Under-9 Cup this Sunday.

Quite what W. Gove, child of two of the least sporting parents on the planet, is doing on the same team is a genetic mystery that I, his mother, have yet to fathom.

Two of arguably the most manly men in the public eye have this week shown themselves to be a right pair of metrosexuals.

First Gary Lineker's wife Danielle revealed the secret of his remarkably wrinkle-free complexion: Creme de La Mer face cream, apparently (surely she means ‘botox').

Then Gordon Ramsay was spotted leaving Victoria Beckham's 40th birthday bash in Mayfair showing all the signs of a recent hair transplant. Vanity, thy name is middle-aged man.

On Monday, reckless fool that I am, I attempted to update my payment card on my Transport for London Congestion Charging account.

Last time I had to do this, I did it over the phone, with catastrophic results.

The operator failed to register the new card properly, which led to an avalanche of fines coming through the door, which in turn led to an excruciating battle with a succession of semi-literate jobsworths at TfL.

So this time, I thought, I will save time and sanity by doing it online. After endless security questions about my ancestry and past pets, I eventually got through to . . . yes, you guessed it: a message asking me to call a number.

I await with trepidation the arrival of my first fine.

COLOURFUL CRAZE LOOMING LARGE IN MY LIFE

Hands up if you have a tweenage daughter. Now hands up if she spent the Easter holidays making a variety of fairly useless items out of tiny multi-coloured rubber bands?

Welcome to the world of Rainbow Looms, the latest all-consuming playground craze.

It's basically crochet with rubber bands, if you can imagine such a thing. And it has got them all hooked.

Don't believe me? Look online. The internet is awash with adorable ten-year-old girls, making anything from complicated bracelets to cute baby animals out of the things.

One video, in which a small person patiently explains how to make 'a starburst bracelet', has more than 16.5 million views.

And on a recent trip to London, my mother was charged with taking several boxes of the things back to Italy for friends' grandchildren, where apparently they are high in demand but short on supply.

Here's what it says on my daughter's birthday list, which she very thoughtfully stuck to the fridge:

1) iPod.

2) So, so many rainbow loom's [sic].

3) Sweets.

4) More rainbow looms.

5) Even more rainbow looms.

6) Even more rainbow looms.

7) Tat that I like (eg rainbow looms).

8) Villa in St Tropez.

OK, so that last one's in my handwriting, but you get the gist.

At first I was delighted: this was the first school holiday where I haven't had to hear the words: ‘Mum, I'm booooored' every 27 seconds.

Then my bubble was burst by a text message from Amazon. It said: ‘Thank you for your £44.50 order of Rainbow Looms; your goods are on their way.'

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