To Sir with Love

“My quick anger at the woman’s undisguised prejudice was surprisingly tinctured by a certain admiration for her fearless, superior attitude.”

Braithwaite surprises himself by being impressed at this lady’s superiority complex, indicating one of his own prejudices: classism. One of the criticisms this book has received is that the novel presents class and culture as being more important than race and prejudice, as evidenced in this quotation. Despite this woman’s racism, Braithwaite attributes a bravery to her, indicating his penchant to associate positive qualities with high class individuals. Although he believes her to be misled in terms of her racism, he also believes she possesses innate qualities lacking in people of lower birth. He also uses the word, ‘tinctured,’ a synonym for colored, to remind the audience that her prejudice concerns the color of his skin without specifically labeling her as racist, which she undoubtedly is. 

“Reclining in an easy chair, fingers interlocked behind his head, was a large, hairy, cadaverous, young man, in baggy gray flannel slacks and a well-worn hacking jacket with leather patches at the elbows and wrists. A maroon shirt and yellow large-knotted tie did nothing to dispel the air of general untidiness which enveloped him.”

When Braithwaite first meets Weston, he presents himself as the opposite of Braithwaite: he is reclining, obviously at ease with the general chaos that surrounds him. Weston also appears utterly unkempt, clad in ill-fitting clothes and without regard for personal hygiene. In this way, Weston is presented as Braithwaite’s physical foil: he is white and untidy, in contrast to Braithwaite’s tight care for his appearance. As the novel progresses, the audience learns that Weston also represents Braithwaite’s psychological foil, as he is apathetic about his employment and openly denigrates the students. In short, Weston represents everything that Braithwaite sees as wrong with East End males, the worst kind of authority figure. As the only other male teacher, the students’ disregard for their own hygiene becomes understood; they only have negative male role models, whose masculinity is tempered by apathy and lack of personal hygiene. In this way, Weston’s own masculinity is immediately called into question. After all, one cannot be a gentleman and a slob, according to Braithwaite and London society. 

“She was a shortish strong-looking young woman, whose plain square face was unrelieved by make-up and fringed by dark hair cut short, which added to her rather mannish appearance.”

In contrast to the other female teachers, most noticeably Gillian Blanchard, Josy Dawes represents the antithesis of everything Braithwaite deems feminine. He repeatedly refers to her in masculine terms, describing her as strong, plain, square, and mannish. Although these terms themselves are not necessarily pejorative, the manner and rapidity in which Braithwaite uses them indicates his bias against women who do not appear as classically feminine. Although he does not explicitly state this, Braithwaite believes that Dawes’s appearance would be relieved by the presence of makeup, a judgment that seems entirely inappropriate given the situation. Braithwaite does not concern himself with the teaching or intellectual capacities of his female colleagues. Rather, their only worth to him seems to lie in their appearance. This focus on female presentation and the judgment inherent within it belies Braithwaite’s own chauvinist attitudes, which arise throughout the novel. 

“On my way home that evening I felt an effervescence of spirit which built up inside of me until I felt like shouting out loud for the sheer hell of it. The school, the children, Weston, the grimy fly-infested street through which I hurried—none of it could detract from the wonderful feeling of being employed. At long last I had a job, and though it promised to tax my capabilities to the full, it offered me the opportunity—wonderful word—of working on terms of dignified equality in an established profession.”

This quotation represents a rare moment in which Braithwaite seems to cut loose, unimpeded by potential problems. He seems to forget his cultured upbringing and education, cursing for the sheer pleasure of it. However, Braithwaite interestingly still acknowledges the problems that he may face in the future, lumping the children and the school together with Weston and the grimy fly-infested street. This quotation shows his attitude towards the children, which does not bode well for a positive relationship. Within this effervescence, however, Braithwaite still uses monetary terminology to express his excitement, suggesting that his barrier between connecting with the students lies in his obsession over obtaining a good job to support himself. As such, Braithwaite does not represent the teacher these students so desperately need, as he views this job as mere employment, rather than his calling. 

“All the big talk of Democracy and Human Rights seemed as spurious as the glib guarantees with which some manufacturers underwrite their products in the confident hope that they will never be challenged.”

In contrast to the other female teachers, most noticeably Gillian Blanchard, Josy Dawes represents the antithesis of everything Braithwaite deems feminine. He repeatedly refers to her in masculine terms, describing her as strong, plain, square, and mannish. Although these terms themselves are not necessarily pejorative, the manner and rapidity in which Braithwaite uses them indicates his bias against women who do not appear as classically feminine. Although he does not explicitly state this, Braithwaite believes that Dawes’s appearance would be relieved by the presence of makeup, a judgment that seems entirely inappropriate given the situation. Braithwaite does not concern himself with the teaching or intellectual capacities of his female colleagues. Rather, their only worth to him seems to lie in their appearance. This focus on female presentation and the judgment inherent within it belies Braithwaite’s own chauvinist attitudes, which arise throughout the novel.

“Caught like an insect in the tweezer grip of prejudice, I felt myself striking out in unreasoning retaliation. I became distrustful of every glance or gesture, seeking to probe behind them and expose the antipathy and intolerance which, I felt sure, was there.”

Braithwaite feels small and insignificant, dehumanized by his racist encounters. He is less than an animal; rather, he is an insect, small and weak, impotent against a larger being that holds his life in its grasp. As a result, he loses his mental faculties, unable to act rationally. This quotation demonstrates the deleterious effects that racism and prejudice can have on a person’s psyche, causing the person to lash out at those around him. Braithwaite begins to anticipate prejudice, feeling as though it lies dormant in every interpersonal interaction. He becomes a victim, ostracized from society at large. He is alone in his experiences, and his hostile behavior only serves to further isolate him from other individuals.

“A big city cannot afford to have its attention distracted from the important job of being a big city by such a tiny, unimportant item as your happiness or mine.”

The stranger explains the antithetical nature of the city and human happiness. In this way, industrialism is called into question, as is capitalism. Although industry and the city might benefit society as a macrocosm, on the individual level these aspects of capitalism represent a detriment to the human condition. They render people to be too individual. Without the support a community, these individuals are unable to be happy. This stranger’s statement acts as a kind of prophecy. It is only after Braithwaite involves himself within the community by caring about his students and fostering interpersonal relationships that he finds happiness.

“Talking helps, you know; if you can talk with someone, you’re not lonely any more.”

Although Braithwaite himself does not notice this, the stranger is able to pick up on Braithwaite’s loneliness. Braithwaite feels as though he does not belong in East End, or really anywhere in Britain, for that manner; he feels isolated by his Black skin. The audience comes to understand that Braithwaite is a very lonely character, as he has no one who can or even tries to empathize with him. Braithwaite refrains from speaking about his feelings to either his coworkers or his students, creating a barrier in his interpersonal relationships. It is only after Braithwaite opens up to other characters that he no longer feels lonely. In Clinty and Blanchard, Braithwaite finds the companionship he needs to overcome the pervasive racism inherent within English society. By talking about his experiences, Braithwaite enables other characters to empathize with him, allowing for the further development of interpersonal relationships.

“Twenty-six of the class were girls, and many of their faces bore traces of make-up inexpertly or hurriedly removed, giving to their obvious youth a slightly tawdry, jaded look: these were really young women who sat there, quiet and watchful, gypsyish in their flashy cheap earrings and bracelets.”

Braithwaite categorizes his young female students as young women; he alleges that their usage of makeup and flashy jewelry indicates their maturity rather than their youth. Instead of finding their fashion choices to be the kind of mistakes made by children, Braithwaite comes dangerously close to sexualizing his female students. In many ways, Braithwaite’s attitude towards his female students embodies the male gaze: that the female body and presentation of it exists solely for the enjoyment of men. However, Braithwaite find little enjoyment in the appearance of his female students, as he prefers women of culture to the students’ tawdry jadedness. However, it is interesting to note that his female students turn his own gaze against him, watching his every movement. 

“The boys were scruffier, coarser, dirtier, everything about them indicated a planned conformity—the T-shirts, jeans, haircuts, the same wary sullenness. None of it really belonged to them. It was worn, assumed in and out of school like a kind of armor; a gesture against authority; a symbol of toughness as thin and synthetic as the cheap films from which it was copied.” 

Rather than the presupposed maturity of the female students, Braithwaite finds his male students almost childlike: boys playing at being men. He does not believe their disguise for an instant, labeling their toughness—and by extension, their masculinity—as thin and synthetic. In contrast, Braithwaite feels his own masculinity to be strong and self-made, positioning his self-conception as the polar opposite of his male students. Although he arguably attends to a conformity in his dress, he scorns these students for their lack of individuality, failing to see the similarities between himself and his students. This conception solidifies the gap between Braithwaite and his students, which is then exacerbated by behavior on both sides. 

“It was as if I were trying to reach the children through a thick pane of glass, so remote and uninterested they seemed.” 

Due to perceived differences in beliefs, Braithwaite feels a distance between himself and the student population. However, it is interesting that he represents this distance in terms of a divide: through language, Braithwaite physically categorizes himself as different from the students. Although he blames this distance on the attitude of the students, his use of language indicates that he in some way believes that this distinction is justified. Until Braithwaite can find common ground with his student population, he will remain unable to reach them, physically cut off from their attention. 

“‘You’re not my bleeding father.’ Her voice was flat and vicious. I was answered, and I shut up. You nasty little slut, I thought, I played right into your hand.”

In the first of many flagrant instances of flouting authority, Braithwaite attempts to scold one of his female students. However, the way in which he chooses to do this is through patriarchal shame, which the student rebels against, answering him in kind. Throughout his life, it seems as though Braithwaite has only encountered demure women; as such, he categorizes this student’s response as vicious, which seems suspiciously at odds with its alternate categorization as flat. Braithwaite finds this retort offensive, not merely because of the curse word but because a female student is bucking his male authority. As such, he turns to one of the easiest recourses patriarchy allows: he views her response as an indication of her sexuality. This sexualization at once indicates her maturity, in terms of sexual proclivity, while it also renders her childlike through Braithwaite calling her nasty and little, the same terms one would use to describe a behaviorally-problematic child. 

“There are certain things which decent women keep private at all times….Only a filthy slut would have dared to do this thing, and those of you who stood by and encouraged her are just as bad.” 

This quotation indicates the problems that Braithwaite encounters with the female students. He does not believe that their behaviors indicate that they are decent women. As such, he feels free to call them sluts, demonstrating the binary representations of women evident within patriarchal societies: women can either be Madonnas or whores—there is no in-between. Braithwaite sexualizes the rebellion of these female students in a way that he never does with the males. Rather, the males seem suspiciously absent of sexuality, whereas anything associated with the female body—even something as routine as menstruation—becomes highly sexualized and as such is an indication of the female students’ lack of moral fiber. In this way, Braithwaite solidifies the position of the narrator within the confines of the male gaze. The female, then, is always considered other and at the mercy of the male’s perception.

“There is nothing weak and unmanly about clean hands and faces and shoes that are brushed. A man who is strong and tough never needs to show it in his dress or the way he cuts his hair. Toughness is a quality of the mind, like bravery or honesty or ambition; it has nothing whatever to do with your muscles. I suppose that in a year or so some of you will be thinking of girlfriends; believe me, they will think you much more attractive with clean teeth, hands and faces than without.”

Braithwaite explains his conception of masculinity to his students. The reader notices that Braithwaite’s ideas concerning masculinity differ substantially from those of his students, who believe that masculinity can only be demonstrated via external indicators of toughness: i.e., muscles and a disregard for appearance. In contrast, Braithwaite’s concept of manliness is similar to the British upper-class concept of the gentleman. This differentiation between the two constructs of masculinity demonstrates the economic stratification inherent in British culture, one in which even gender norms are different, depending upon one’s class.Braithwaite also places importance on the differentiation between females and masculinity, as though masculinity cannot exist apart from femininity. In this way, he constructs a binary between the genders, which serve both to oppose and reinforce one another. 

“Weston was smiling, but there was a sneer near the surface of his smile. ‘Fancy that. Miss Dare would like the netball.’ He pointed his pipe at me with a theatrical exaggeration. ‘I say, whatever’s going on in that classroom of yours, old man? I mean, this suburban formality and all. Bit foreign in this neck of the woods, don’t you think?’”

This quotation demonstrates the power of language witnessed throughout the novel. The first time the other teachers recognize that Braithwaite treats his students, and in turn, that his students treat him, differently is after the other teachers notice a shift in the language of the students. Throughout the novel, the characters recognize language as such a powerful force that a shift in language implies a shift in behavior as well, as Weston’s question suggests. However, this shift in language also represents multi-faceted Braithwaite’s position as an outsider: he is both racially and socioeconomically Other, in terms of the students and other staff members at the school. As such, although there is the pretense of friendship and comradery amongst the staff members, Braithwaite cannot be considered one of them, a segregation made explicit in his colleagues’ language.

“Weston’s owl eyes were on Grace’s attractive bust; I was sure the untidy fringe around his mouth hid the leer which his voice so clearly revealed.”

Throughout the novel, Braithwaite characterizes any behaviors he considers immoral as animalistic. Braithwaite dehumanizes other characters during unpleasant or uncivilized encounters, demonstrating how ingrained his adherence to societal norms is. Through this particular dehumanization, Weston serves as a foil to Braithwaite’s perpetual gentlemanliness: although both men sexualize their female colleagues, Braithwaite differentiates his male gaze from that of Weston through this animalistic characterization. 

“At Cannon Street two elderly, well-dressed women joined the train, and stood in the crowd close to us. The stare of disapproval they cast in our direction was made very obvious; and soon they were muttering darkly something about ‘shameless young girls and these black men.’” 

The novel presents the public nature of race through the experiences of Braithwaite. In contrast to being an individual and therefore unremarked identity (such as whiteness), the systemic nature of racism wrought in part by colonialism renders the identity of Blackness as a public matter, something that is discussed, and in this case denigrated, by other people. However, Braithwaite also categorizes the racist mutterings of the elderly women as dark, in effect coloring their language. In this way, issues of race become inextricable from the novel’s language, and perhaps from all language in general.

“It seems as though there were some unwritten law in Britain which required any healthy, able-bodied Negro resident there be either celibate by inclination, or else a master of the art of sublimation. And were he to seek solace from prostitutes or ‘easy’ women, he would be promptly labelled as filthy and undesirable. Utterly, inhumanly unreasonable! We were to be men, but without manhood.” 

Braithwaite explains the problems associated with being a Black man in English society. However, even when he talks about Black men in English society, he categorizes them as residents, solely affiliated with England via their locational positionality. In this way, he both acknowledges and reinforces the otherness of Black identity within English society. However, Braithwaite mainly concerns himself with the masculinity of England’s Black residents, which he portrays as inextricable from sex. In Braithwaite’s mind, to be masculine is to require sexual intimacy, although this situation becomes impossible for Black men due to the pervasiveness of racism within English society. 

“I did not believe for one moment that she cared whether I found a room or not but as was characteristic of so many of these women, she would have willfully submerged her own opinions and prejudices to please her daughter…. What really matters was that Barbara did not share her mother’s snap prejudices; if the young ones were learning to think for themselves, then even that painful incident had been worth something.”

Throughout the novel, Braithwaite attempts to find a reason behind his suffering, desiring more than anything that his continued tolerance of the racism that befalls him has resulted in the greater good. In this way, Braithwaite believes himself to be a kind of martyr for future generations, hoping that the communication of his painful experiences will result in the increased tolerance of future generations. Indeed, Braithwaite places nearly all his hope for the betterment of society in his students. He considers learning and the communication of knowledge via experience to be paramount in combatting the racism endemic to English colonialism.

“When the new term began, nearly half the class was absent, away in the hop-fields of Kent with other members of their families. This was a routine, annual affair, a kind of working holiday in the country. Most of the moving spirits in the class were away and the others felt a bit lost, evidently missing them and as anxious for their return as I was.” 

Although Braithwaite is incredibly intelligent and has knowledge of many things, he does not understand the depth of poverty under which his students live. He categorizes backbreaking manual labor as a “working holiday,” indicating that he has probably never taken part in such work. As such, he cannot understand the dire environment in which his students are forced to provide for themselves and their families, in which education must take a back seat to matters of survival. Braithwaite’s lack of understanding is further elucidated when the situations of these students are juxtaposed against Blanchard’s family holiday in Geneva. Braithwaite speaks of both Blanchard’s vacation and the students’ working holidays in the same manner, suggesting his disassociation from the extent of his students’ circumstances. Much in the same way that his students do not understand what it is like to be a Black man in England, Braithwaite does not understand what it means to grow up impoverished, demonstrating the disconnect which hinders interpersonal relationships.

“‘I’ll do you in you bloody murderer.’ Bell was big, but in his anger Potter seemed bigger, his improvised club a fearsome extension of his thick forearm.”

In contrast to knowledge and learning which Braithwaite presents as leading to tolerance and empathy, Braithwaite vehemently opposes the use of violence, which he believes only results in more violence. However, violence seems to be the default response of even the gentlest of Braithwaite’s students. Yet, there is a certain absurdity in this language of retributive violent response: it is hard not to find amusement in Potter’s justification in murdering a murderer. In this way, Braithwaite perhaps also calls into question the justice system itself, namely capital punishment, as an absurd method of attempting to restore justice via violent retribution.

“His questions touched something deep inside of me, something which had been dormant for months, but now awoke to quick, painful remembering.”

Braithwaite exposes the irreconcilable nature of traumatic experiences, specifically those inflicted by prejudice. The trauma of racism and prejudice never completely go away; rather, they infect the victim’s memories for the rest of his or her life. Rather than fading as physical pain does, the memory of trauma merely sleeps until it is reawakened by an outside force or experience, like a monster forever hovering at the recesses of a person’s consciousness. In this way, the emotional pain inflicted by racism can never be truly resolved, as it is in constant danger of being triggered by forces outside of the victim’s control. In fact, the memory of the event can become more painful that the event itself, as it is compounded by memories of similar events and experiences.

“‘As far as I am concerned, Weston, I could only be an oddity to anyone fool enough to imagine or believe that my color makes me less a man than my white counterpart. I am a teacher and nothing about me is odd or unusual. The reporter gave me the impression that he was more interested in the strangeness of seeing a Negro teacher with white children, and its pictorial appeal to the curious, than in anything I was doing or could do for the children; and on that score, and that alone, I objected.’” 

Not wanting to assuage public conscience on matters of tolerance, Braithwaite refuses to be portrayed in the newspaper as an oddity. This interaction with Weston represents the first time in which the audience witnesses Braithwaite stand up for himself in the face of racism and prejudice. Braithwaite calmly eviscerates Weston by implicitly questioning Weston’s intelligence: Braithwaite maintains that only a fool could be prejudiced. Braithwaite neither becomes so angry he cannot think nor does he passively accept Weston’s racism, both of which have happened in the past. Rather, Braithwaite both acknowledges and calmly and rationally dismantles prejudices by demonstrating their fallibility, indicating a change in his character.