“Evolution is not a fact. That’s why it’s called a theory!” Post these words online and, ironically, you will see something rather biblical appear. Airing an opinion like this on Facebook or Twitter can make swaths of educated people become pain-stricken, as if in the midst of a great plague. You will hear them moan and wail in indignation. For evolution (by natural selection) is both a fact and a theory.

This is roughly what happened when headteacher Tina Wilkinson posted the quote above on Twitter in response to an article by fellow headteacher Tom Sherrington, who’d written about teaching evolution in school assemblies. Hellfire ensued. The usual Twitter-hate rained down upon her, because evolution is now a science topic in the national curriculum for primary schools, and because Wilkinson is a headteacher of a primary school. Wilkinson has left Twitter and I feel quite sorry for her. She was only stating an opinion, after all. But that, of course, is part of the problem.

Evolution is a subject close to my heart. I spend a great deal of my time working with schools, talking about natural selection and fossils and Darwin and celebrating that wonderful branching tree of life of which we are a tiny (but highly pernicious) micro-twig. In the past five years, I’ve worked with tens of thousands of pupils and hundreds of teachers up and down the country.

You might wonder what this is like. Are primary school classrooms filled with religious scepticism about evolution? Is there moral outrage about it? Is it like … God forbid … America? I’m pleased to tell you that the answer on all counts is no. In nearly all cases, I’ve seen what one would expect when it comes to science education. I’ve seen passionate teachers keen to explore evolutionary topics such as human ancestry and adaptation with their pupils; display boards covered in faux diary entries written by intrepid young pupils pretending to be Darwin; excited young people with lots of questions; fossils, family trees and finches. Evolution is central to understanding biology. It belongs in primary schools. It really does belong there, and it shows.

I don’t really have an opinion worth listening to on God, because I care about fossil animal bones and teeth

But I have to be honest. There is an uncomfortable side to the teaching of evolution in schools that occasionally rears its head. “Please try to remember that we are a faith school …” I might be emailed before my visit. “Please tread carefully when it comes to talking about Creation”, a teacher might mention glibly over a cup of tea when I arrive at a school on the day of a visit. I never know quite how to deal with this. I am informed, quite often, that teachers in faith schools have sought the advice of faith leaders about teaching this “sensitive” topic.

Indeed, once or twice I have been joined by “special guests” during my sessions – visitors from a local church who sat in the corner and “supervised” the discussions, lest we talk about why whales have mammalian nipples and terrestrial ear bones, in case all hell (yes that) breaks loose (it doesn’t: the pupils can handle it). I wouldn’t expect to be asked to talk to pupils about biblical scripture, so it’s a little strange seeing religious supervisors skulk into my science sessions. But it’s OK. I know we still have a long way to go, and these occasions are rare. And plus, perhaps these visitors learned something.

It’s hard not to take rare moments like these personally though. Because of Richard Dawkins I think they worry that I’m a ticking time-bomb, desperate to explode my personal beliefs about God, the Universe, and Everything on everything and everyone. But not all atheists or agnostics are like Dawkins. I don’t really have an opinion worth listening to on God, because I care about fossil animal bones and teeth. Things that you can handle, peruse and pick the DNA from and read and test and see how they work. That’s what I care about. That’s what I’m there to talk to children about.

In my experience, most teachers at primary schools understand evolution. But those who don’t might change their minds if they altered the channels through which their opinions came. One way of doing this is by ensuring that scientists, as well as faith leaders if need be, are a part of the discussion in schools.

You’ll find that, on the whole, we have nothing to do with Twitter tirades or Dawkins-esque rages. On the whole, we’re approachable and interesting and can even be quite lovely. So to that tiny minority of teachers who feel uncomfortable with the topic of evolution, or who fail to understand that evolution is both a fact and a theory, we’re waiting for your call.