Tuesday, 6 December 2011
Teacher Without Portfolio - One Term in Limbo: Day 55 - TwP Fights Back
Teacher Without Portfolio - One Term in Limbo: Day 55 - TwP Fights Back: I hadn't even taken my hat and coat off this morning before being involved in two incidents with rude, disrespectful and utterly repellent c...
Day 55 - TwP Fights Back
I hadn't even taken my hat and coat off this morning before being involved in two incidents with rude, disrespectful and utterly repellent children, and for the first time this term I felt an excessive outrage exacerbated by witnessing 3 of my colleagues receiving treatment that they do not deserve.
The first was the harrassment and deliberate provocation of one teacher (which has, she says, been going on a long time), involving a pupil directing variations on the phrase "All right, babe?" at her on 3 separate occasions within the space of 7 minutes; the second an incident involving the phrase "He pushed me first!" so you can imagine that one for yourself. The third incident involved my friend and colleague being accused of pushing a pupil as she passed him, which in a way directly led to my outburst at that pupil who was whinging about some other little scroat pushing him in the corridor, so he bore the brunt of my dissatisfaction with pupil behaviour this morning.
But it's not so much these petty little incidents that have me riled.
It's the fact that these little (insert expressive negative noun of your choice here - but scroat, I feel, is particularly good one!) know that they can treat teachers this way and pretty much bog all will be done about it.
Seriously thinking about getting my mother up the school.
The first was the harrassment and deliberate provocation of one teacher (which has, she says, been going on a long time), involving a pupil directing variations on the phrase "All right, babe?" at her on 3 separate occasions within the space of 7 minutes; the second an incident involving the phrase "He pushed me first!" so you can imagine that one for yourself. The third incident involved my friend and colleague being accused of pushing a pupil as she passed him, which in a way directly led to my outburst at that pupil who was whinging about some other little scroat pushing him in the corridor, so he bore the brunt of my dissatisfaction with pupil behaviour this morning.
But it's not so much these petty little incidents that have me riled.
It's the fact that these little (insert expressive negative noun of your choice here - but scroat, I feel, is particularly good one!) know that they can treat teachers this way and pretty much bog all will be done about it.
Seriously thinking about getting my mother up the school.
Wednesday, 23 November 2011
Day 46 - I'm....re-viewing. The situation...(to the tune of said song from Oliver!)
My fellow teachers are really under it at the moment. There are targets to set, stats to read, data to analyse, results to input, assessments to mark, reviews of assessment procedures to undertake, PLCs to which we must contribute, meetings to attend, twilight training to tackle, Literacy Strategies to put into action, reports to write, and somewhere at the bottom of the pile there is teaching to do as well, which is the (supposed) fun part of the job, and what we chose this job to do. Increasingly, it isn’t fun. Behaviour is poor, mainly because teachers have very little time to spend on producing 25 mentally stimulating lessons every week because they’re so busy doing all the data analysis, setting the targets, writing the reports, inputting the results, assessing the pupils, reviewing the assessment policies, being members of PLCs, attending meetings, taking part in training and implementing Literacy Strategies across the curriculum… have I forgotten anything? Oh, yes, managing the admin for discipline procedures which is necessary to maintain the façade of actually having some jurisdiction in the esteemed institution we call Education – which, let’s face it, seems to have very little to do with education at all these days…
Before I'd even reached half way across the school car park this morning, I'd had two separate conversations with two very disgruntled teachers. Something is not right in the state of Denmark and I think if Hamlet were a teacher, he would come to a very different conclusion about slings and arrows... The Head had better not go hiding behind any curtains, that's all I'm going to say.
Tuesday, 22 November 2011
Day 45 - A Blast from the Past
I was going through old emails so that I could delete the ones that were clogging up my mailbox, which Office assured me was about to self-destruct, and I came across a copy of an email I had sent to a member of the Pastoral Care team to explain why I needed to give more detail regarding a pupil's behaviour during one of my lessons. The email transcribed the majority of what this pupil delivered in the form of verbal diarrhhoea and reminded me that I have been dealing more with this sort of thing for 3 years now.
Transcription follows:
Transcription follows:
*Kyleeigh: Miss. Miss. Miss. Miss. Miss. Does he look familiar?
Shows me a picture of some runt with a shaved head and spots
Kyleeigh: Miss. Miss. Miss. Miss Miss. I ant got my book. Miss Miss. Miss. I don't GET it! Miss. Miss. Miss. Miss. I don't know what to DOooooooowuh! Miss. Miss Miss. Miss. Miss. Miss. Miss. I fink I frew my Macbeff away. And my book. And *Tayler
*LIzzy: No you wasn, Kyleeigh, you just din't listen, so shut up!
Kyleeigh: No, thass coz I always gets sent out.
Lizzy: No, iss because you don't SHUT UP! GOH!
Pause
Kyleeigh: Miss. Miss Miss. Miss. Miss. Miss. Miss. Do you like my hair? Miss. Miss Miss Miss. Miss. Miss. Miss. MISS! MISS! MISS! GOH! Miss. Miss. Miss. My HAIR! Miss. Miss Miss. Miss. Miss. Miss. Miss.
Lizzy: Use her name, stupid. She likes you to use her name.
Kyleeigh: Miss? Miss. Miss. Miss. MISS!...Ms Teacher....?
TwP: Yes, Kyleeigh?
Kyleeigh: My hair.
TwP: Have you started your work, Kyleeigh?
Kyleeigh: I tole you! I wosn yer when we done Macbeff.
TwP: Lizzy, would you let Kyleeigh make some notes from your work, please, so that she can catch up.
Lizzy: You are, Kyleeigh.
Thrusts her book at Kyleeigh
Kyleeigh: Goh! No-one ever listens to me. I WASN YER!!!!!!!!
*not their real names
I'm really hoping things are going to change for me.
Thursday, 17 November 2011
Day 44 - Any Dream Will Do
Every now and then, we are lucky to get someone in to school to talk to our Young Adults. By and large, it's someone Welsh, someone with a disability, someone Welsh with a disability or an author who hasn't yet achieved mass recognition. Today, we played host to an excellent writer who was entertaining, inspirational, funny and engaging.
He spoke of all the random things that were popping into his head and did so uncensored and unfettered by convention and was all the more entertaining for it. He spoke of his three main ambitions when he was a boy and threw the same question out to our group.
"What are your dreams? Come on. You have to have a dream!"
A tentative hand went up, came down again, but luckily, our speaker had spotted it. He pointed at our very own Tyrone* of Excluded From French Nutters fame.
"Yes, you!" says our not-yet-enormously-famous-but-should-be writer, encouragingly. "What's your dream?"
"Fighting crocodiles!" says Tyrone.
"Excellent answer!" says our writer. "Imaginative! That's what I like to hear! Something a little different. Why do you want to fight crocodiles?"
"Kill 'em and sell their skins and make lots of money and get famous!" says Tyrone.
Ah well.
We tried.
*Still not his real name
He spoke of all the random things that were popping into his head and did so uncensored and unfettered by convention and was all the more entertaining for it. He spoke of his three main ambitions when he was a boy and threw the same question out to our group.
"What are your dreams? Come on. You have to have a dream!"
A tentative hand went up, came down again, but luckily, our speaker had spotted it. He pointed at our very own Tyrone* of Excluded From French Nutters fame.
"Yes, you!" says our not-yet-enormously-famous-but-should-be writer, encouragingly. "What's your dream?"
"Fighting crocodiles!" says Tyrone.
"Excellent answer!" says our writer. "Imaginative! That's what I like to hear! Something a little different. Why do you want to fight crocodiles?"
"Kill 'em and sell their skins and make lots of money and get famous!" says Tyrone.
Ah well.
We tried.
*Still not his real name
Tuesday, 15 November 2011
Day 43 - Kurt Trundlebury's Pencil Case Part Deux: It's in the Bag!
When Kurt Trundlebury had to borrow a pen in today's lesson, I asked him where his pencil case was. He told me that he'd lost it and then glanced sideways at me to see what my reaction would be. I didn't say anything at all, and two minutes later, he muttered, "It's in my bag, miss." Then he quietly got his pencil case out of his bag, and began to work. Quietly.
Two minutes after that, he started sucking the ink out of his pen, telling me he was going to poison himself and die. I calmly informed him that the ink in pens was no longer poisonous and all that would happen would be that he would make a big fat mess.
He still hasn't got a ruler in his pencil case, so I folded his A4 paper to create lines for him to follow, because he was worried about his writing slanting across the page. Then, I showed him how to use these folds to guide him as he wrote on the sheet. By the end of the lesson, all that was on this sheet was the title I had written, and the first line of the work he was redrafting. He then told me that he hadn't been able to finish his work because I hadn't helped him, and then he looked at me under his lashes to see how I was taking that snippet of news.
Kurt Trundlebury thinks I'm a soft touch. He thinks I like him. He thinks that I'm on his side. He thinks that I will let him be as objectionable as he likes to be and I won't challenge his poor behaviour, or manners or attitude. This is not the case. I just won't challenge him in the way he expects to be challenged.
I am overly patient with this boy, but not because I like him, or feel sorry for him, or because I think he can change with a little understanding (although this might be the case...) - no, my motives are a little more self-centred that that.
And they are very simple motives. If I can keep the little bugger busy, with suggestions and reasons and explanations, the other members of the class will be able to get on with doing what they want to do and life will be a lot easier for all persons contained within that melting pot of hormones, anger, frustration and stunted emotional literacy.
And really, at this point in proceedings, with everything else that's going on, like coming to the end of my time here, planning the Big Move, wondering what on earth my teaching life will even be like come January, I am beginning to value that quiet life more than ever and I will do everything within my meagre and dwindling power to achieve it - and if that means having the patience of seven saints with a little scroat like Kurt Trundlebury, then so be it.
Two minutes after that, he started sucking the ink out of his pen, telling me he was going to poison himself and die. I calmly informed him that the ink in pens was no longer poisonous and all that would happen would be that he would make a big fat mess.
He still hasn't got a ruler in his pencil case, so I folded his A4 paper to create lines for him to follow, because he was worried about his writing slanting across the page. Then, I showed him how to use these folds to guide him as he wrote on the sheet. By the end of the lesson, all that was on this sheet was the title I had written, and the first line of the work he was redrafting. He then told me that he hadn't been able to finish his work because I hadn't helped him, and then he looked at me under his lashes to see how I was taking that snippet of news.
Kurt Trundlebury thinks I'm a soft touch. He thinks I like him. He thinks that I'm on his side. He thinks that I will let him be as objectionable as he likes to be and I won't challenge his poor behaviour, or manners or attitude. This is not the case. I just won't challenge him in the way he expects to be challenged.
I am overly patient with this boy, but not because I like him, or feel sorry for him, or because I think he can change with a little understanding (although this might be the case...) - no, my motives are a little more self-centred that that.
And they are very simple motives. If I can keep the little bugger busy, with suggestions and reasons and explanations, the other members of the class will be able to get on with doing what they want to do and life will be a lot easier for all persons contained within that melting pot of hormones, anger, frustration and stunted emotional literacy.
And really, at this point in proceedings, with everything else that's going on, like coming to the end of my time here, planning the Big Move, wondering what on earth my teaching life will even be like come January, I am beginning to value that quiet life more than ever and I will do everything within my meagre and dwindling power to achieve it - and if that means having the patience of seven saints with a little scroat like Kurt Trundlebury, then so be it.
Monday, 14 November 2011
Day 40 - Final Instalment
PL: I’m going to have to speak to Mrs Hook. We aren’t going to get anywhere. We’ve managed to fill in two boxes in this lesson.
Remember when we were here and we didn’t take our coats off, and now it’s them and you’re not saying anything to them.
Shall we do the work then?
We could …shut up….we could look around for …say like, Miss, say like if there was a wedding, and we could wait until they all go and then give all their rubbish back to them in bags.
PL: Yes, you could do a litter pick, if you wanted. Tidy up the community.
Yeah. Graham could help us with that. I asked Mr Rory as well. We just got to tell him.
Gardening?
This school got a good garden you know. It’s up there.
(shows where the garden is)
If we don’t keep the trees we’ll all die.
It’s loads of grass down there.
PL: Abby.
Abby.
Abby.
That’s not my name.
PL: Your name is Abby.
No it’s not, it’s Debbie.
(Abby giggles)
PL: From now on girls, you won’t sit together.
We’re going to get a row off Miss Hook. We’ve already had a warning. We nearly got kicked out, me and Dai.
Why d’you call him Dai?
Cos that’s his name on PS3.
Miss, we haven’t hardly got no reasons for sorting out that though.
What about Aller? That’s rough. We could go and tidy that up.
It’s rough as hell round here that we could maybe…
(All talking at once)
They’re all pikeys up there.
Up Aller.
PL: How else can we improve the environment then?
Eelctricity.
More bins.
Caergwli’s a mega mess.
PL: I can’t hear you all talking at once.
Miss.
Miss, there’s rubbish.
Miss, you know all the scrappies, they go up Caergwli pinching bins.
You know what I seen? Me and my bamp saw scrap men taking a brain out of a bin. And copper and all that.
Miss, I know, go down Pwll…
(Indecipherable nonsense)
Where are we taking bikes to, Miss?
How aint you on report, Beth, You gets sent out of every lesson.
(Two girls leave the room early because one is on crutches)
Bye smell.
Miss they won’t get in trouble now if Miss Hook comes up.
Orright, Ty, shut up now.
PL: What else…any other ideas?
I got a good idea. We make loads of little flyers and pass em out in Caergwli. Up the town they got no bins.
Miss, we could make…
You could prosecute…
Miss, they’re talking about littering but they chucks it straight on the floor.
Can you sign my report? Miss. My report.
And mine.
And mine.
Can we go?
Miss, miss, even Miss Hook knows I got a shouting out problem.
Miss, sign my report.
PL: See you next week.
Friday, 11 November 2011
Day 40 - 3rd Instalment
PL: I think we should …
But, what my thing is right…
But, what my thing is,
Do you know if you’re really really fat and you went to the Sahara how long would you survive?
What’s the point of cleaning rivers, they’ll just get dirty again. The council should get off their lazy backsides and clean it up instead of writing stuff down.
Can we do Evel Kineval?
Can we go to different Primary schools than the other group?
Ty what you doing by me, get back over there
I was seeing if Callum’s bag is still there.
No you weren’t get back over there.
I really don’t want to see my sister if we go to the primary school.
(Loud unnecessary noise)
PL: What would be a nice idea, Tyrone, Tyrone, listen a second, would be making some bird boxes and once that’s done, we could take photos and take a presentation the primary schools.
We should get paid for this.
If I gets famous, this school will be famous.
I’ve been on telly. I was in the background for the X factor.
He worked in the Piccadilly.
My cousin’s cousin is in One Direction.
What does she do?
Miss, I aint doing nothing in a junior school.
PL: Why not Kyle?
You could go down Hindren! You could see my sister.
I love having my hair like this.
In Cwm Ifan they got a 5 and 6 mix.
Can I dress up as a fag?
Oh my god Tyrone that’s so pathetic!
PL: Did you like any cartoons when you were younger?
Yeah, Scooby Doo.
Teletubbies.
Yeah.
Miss there’s no rubbish in Penybland.
(all talking at once)
Oy, you’re nosy as hell.
That’s cheeky looking through my stuff.
And they are whispering again.
That’s so cheeky. No respect.
Ohhhh, Chelsey does this andChelsey does that.
You know what I like? Grampon in my pocket. He puts his special thing and he lives in the house.
I like what’s it called…Tommy Zooom
Mr Tumble.
We can’t hear you.
I’m bored now. This is stupid. This is pathetic.
Shut your mouth!
Shut your mouth!
Thursday, 10 November 2011
Day 40 - 2nd Instalment
Yesterday's transcript proved to be quite popular, so here is another section of it. Serialisation! I feel like Charles Dickens here!
More tomorrow!
PL: We were going to look at rivers. What do you get in rivers?
Spiders
Snakes
Fish
Plants
Stones
Rocks
Onions
Burgers
Chips fries
Glass
Ow
Demi
He hit me on the head
Rest a second, I reckon.
Hit him across the head, go on.
PL: What else have we got to look at?
Bird watching.
Bird watching.
PL: How are we going to encourage birds?
Set a trap!
Encourage them, not kill ‘em.
I trains birds. I got a Harris Hawk. And a barn owl.
PL: Really?
Yeah. I wants to be a Falconer when I grows up.
What’s one of them then?
A falconer, you know, a bird trainer. Someone who flies birds.
We could make bird boxes.
PL: What would you put…?
Bird boxes.
Birds’ chips.
You can put it in your hand and go here birdy birdy
(Laughing)
Here birdy birdy birdy!
Bang! You’re dead!
Dead bird.
Here birdy birdy! BANG!
PL: If you carry on like this, we’ll have to stop.
We could hire something. We could get them from Penybland.
My bamp can get those. My bamp lives across the road from…
PL: What are you interested in – why do you want to improve the environment?
Because people get away with murder.
I reckon you should get a scanner and fine people.
Why should we clean the rivers when it’s not our mess?
PL: If everyone had that attitude, the whole place would be a mess.
But we don’t use the rivers, what’s the point of cleaning them?
And birds. Birds poo everywhere.
What’s that place where you…
A farm?
No no, the fish place – why don’t we get some fish and put them in the river?
Shurrup, Ty. Shurrup a minute.
More tomorrow!
Wednesday, 9 November 2011
Day 40 - Transcript of Community Action Project group session
The following is an almost word for word transcription of part of a Community Action Project Session, in which pupils withdrawn from KS3 French classes are given the opportunity to do something constructive rather than disadvantage the learning of their fellow pupils. I haven't pasted the whole session. It would kill you. It really would.
Key:
PL = Project Leader
Pupils’ comments are not individually attributed.
PL: So today, then, we need to decide on a project. The other group has decided on a project and they’ve already been working on it for two weeks, now.
Miss, can I go to the toilet?
PL: No. You’ve just had your lunch break.
Why can’t I go to the toilet? I always goes in English and Mrs. Hook lets me, all the time.
Why can’t girls go the toilet?
It’s against the law not to let us.
I’m going to pee in my seat now.
Miss, can I go to the toilet? I’m desperate.
And me.
It’s like cardigans. Why can’t we wear cardigans? It’s pathetic. All the teachers can wear what they want. And they wears jewellery and make-up, bracelets, everything.
This school’s pathetic.
And it stinks in here.
The teachers haves their dinner in here. It stinks.
Yeah, soup or something.
It stinks.
Teachers stinks!
Miss, Miss, Chelsey’s on her phone!
Miss, Miss, Chelsey’s eating sweets! She got sweets!
Miss, can I go to the toilet? I goes in English, and in Science.
PL: (to me): Are they allowed to go to the toilet during lessons?
Me: No. They aren’t.
Oh but Miss lets me all the time.
The kids in Waterloo Road just gets up and goes they just walks out. I wish I went there.
PL:
Waterloo Road isn’t real.
Waterloo Road isn’t real.
Do I have to do French in year 10 I can’t stand French.
You don’t have to do French.
If we have to do French, I’ll kill myself.
Oh stop it
It’s him. It’s not me, it’s him. All the time.
...And so on for another half an hour... I listen to conversations like this every Wednesday and Thursday. Well, I say conversations! They're just sections of time in which 8 Year 9s screech and talk over each other. It's just noise.
Their parents should be so proud!
Monday, 7 November 2011
Day 37 - Red Letter Day
All day it kept happening.
I would be walking down a corridor - bam! Trotting up the stairs - zap! Taking a register - kazam!
Every which way I turned, someone was doing it. Holding a door open for me. Smiling at me. Saying hello to me. Asking me how I was.
And it kept happening. All day.
By the end of Friday, I was bubbling with inner joy. Fizzing with personal pleasure. Dizzy with private delight.
But who were the instigators of this Snow White trip through Mannersland? Friends? Colleagues? Members of the Senior Management Team?
None of the above.
Pupils, that's who. Pupils were being Polite. Pleasant. Well-mannered.
NICE!
Just thought I'd mention it.
I would be walking down a corridor - bam! Trotting up the stairs - zap! Taking a register - kazam!
Every which way I turned, someone was doing it. Holding a door open for me. Smiling at me. Saying hello to me. Asking me how I was.
And it kept happening. All day.
By the end of Friday, I was bubbling with inner joy. Fizzing with personal pleasure. Dizzy with private delight.
But who were the instigators of this Snow White trip through Mannersland? Friends? Colleagues? Members of the Senior Management Team?
None of the above.
Pupils, that's who. Pupils were being Polite. Pleasant. Well-mannered.
NICE!
Just thought I'd mention it.
Friday, 4 November 2011
Day 36 - It's Christmaaaaaaaaaaaaaas!
Well, not quite yet, but the seeds are being sown.
I have been asked to contribute to the organisation of the Christmas show so I have gathered together a likely bunch of lovelies and we are writing a short dramatisation of Christmas Through Time.
We had a meeting after school today, and it was a resounding success. Noisy, but nice noise. You know, the sort of noise that doesn't make you fear for your life and hope you never meet the makers of said noise down a dark alley. Or down a lighted alley. Or down any alley, for that matter. No, this noise was pure excitement and enthusiasm, happy chatter and an Enid-Blyton style willingness to make the world a better place.
We have all 4 sections of the play written and now it's a matter of putting everything together so that we can start rehearsals. I might even be looking forward to that!
I have been asked to contribute to the organisation of the Christmas show so I have gathered together a likely bunch of lovelies and we are writing a short dramatisation of Christmas Through Time.
We had a meeting after school today, and it was a resounding success. Noisy, but nice noise. You know, the sort of noise that doesn't make you fear for your life and hope you never meet the makers of said noise down a dark alley. Or down a lighted alley. Or down any alley, for that matter. No, this noise was pure excitement and enthusiasm, happy chatter and an Enid-Blyton style willingness to make the world a better place.
We have all 4 sections of the play written and now it's a matter of putting everything together so that we can start rehearsals. I might even be looking forward to that!
Wednesday, 2 November 2011
Day 34 - Empress Eternal
The Universe is redressing the balance! I went to Book Club after school and was treated with affection and respect, which I returned willingly and in spades.
Joey, Adrian and Michael* were there and we had a fantastic discussion about our books, with Michael being particularly impressive. After a while, talk came round to other, more frivolous topics and Adrian decided that the Librarian would henceforth be known as the Queen of Book Club and that I would be the Empress.
"What about when she leaves?" asked Michael. "Who will be the Empress then?"
"She will always be Empress!" announced Adrian. "Empress Eternal!"
The Universe is stable once more and a nice thing balances the nastiness of yesterday. Well, it made me smile, anyway.
* not their real names
Joey, Adrian and Michael* were there and we had a fantastic discussion about our books, with Michael being particularly impressive. After a while, talk came round to other, more frivolous topics and Adrian decided that the Librarian would henceforth be known as the Queen of Book Club and that I would be the Empress.
"What about when she leaves?" asked Michael. "Who will be the Empress then?"
"She will always be Empress!" announced Adrian. "Empress Eternal!"
The Universe is stable once more and a nice thing balances the nastiness of yesterday. Well, it made me smile, anyway.
* not their real names
Day 33 - Mob Rule
If I had any doubts at all that I was doing the right thing in leaving this school and going to another, today eradicated those doubts once and for all.
I was asked to cover the last lesson of the day and I readily agreed - after all, at the moment, it's what I'm paid for... I made my way to the classroom and I was met with a scene of such chaotic mayhem that I wanted to turn tail and scamper back to my hidey-hole. But I couldn't. I had to go in.
There were tables upended, chairs strewn across the room and about 7 pupils were having a whale of a time causing merry Hell.
I calmly walked in and began righting the furniture, and struggled to make myself heard above the din without actually yelling at the top of my voice.
Rowdy Pupil 1: Orrrh, av we go you, Miss?
TwP: Yes, you have.
Rowdy Pupil 1: Orrrh, no.
Thus the tone was set for the whole lesson. Pupils filed in late and sat down, or didn't. They began getting out their pencil cases, or didn't. They looked expectantly at me for direction, or didn't. There was a distinct divide between pupils who were prepared for the lesson and those who weren't. Those who weren't preferred to continue rearranging the furniture, screeching and generally showing me that I didn't matter one jot.
Rowdy Pupil 2: She's gonna call someone over now!
TwP thinks: No, I'm not. I'm going to deal with this situation!
I tried my usual counting down from 5 routine. There was a lull in the noise long enough for me to explain that I was going to take the register and put their work on the board.
Rowdy Pupil 3: Orrh, we got work, Miss?
TwP: Yes.
I called the register. It took 9 minutes. During this 9 minutes, Rowdy Pupil 4 was attempting to balance a table on two legs. It tottered precariously before falling onto the pupils sitting at it. I asked Rowdy Pupil 4 to step outside. I told him I would come and speak to him in a moment.
With their work up on the board, I distributed the paper they would need to complete said work. The Rowdies began making paper aeroplanes. I went outside to speak to Rowdy Pupil 4, who maintained that he "hadn't done nothing". I didn't make an issue of the double negative; merely left him outside the room and went back to the bedlam within.
Now, throwing paper aeroplanes doesn't seem the biggest sin in the world, and if it were being done in fun, as a silly jape, a teacher might smile fondly and say, "Come on now, let's get down to it", but there was something wrong with this aeroplane throwing - there was an aggression to it. Pupils were out of their seats, removing chairs as if they were obstructions to purpose, and this was all specifically designed to get a reaction from me.
It could have gone either way. By this point, I was trembling, as I struggled to fight my flight instinct.
I began writing on the board.
Darryl, please sit down in your own chair.
Chelsea, could you put your gum in the bin, please?
Lucy, put the table back down.*
One by one, they began reading the board. There was another lull. It lasted about 45 seconds. Before long, the rowdies were back to shouting, pushing each other, launching themselves across tables, at each other, screaming, back to trying to get me to explode with frustration. It was a calculated attack by an unruly mob.
The rest of the lesson passed with my ignoring most of the rowdy behaviour and eventually it died down to a dull roar once they realised I was not going to react in the way they wanted me to. Two girls came to ask me if I was going to do anything about the rowdy pupils as they were "doing our 'eads in, Miss!"
What I wanted to say:
Do you think it would make a blind bit of difference, girls? These children are animals. They are out of control and quite frankly, I don't feel I can confront them in case one of them stabs me! If I were you, I'd get your parents to complain to the Governors.
What I actually said:
I am going to keep them behind after the lesson, girls, and I will talk to them then, because I don't think they will listen now, do you? If you can do your best to get on with the work set, that would be brilliant.
At the end of the lesson, I read out a list of names of the pupils I wanted to speak to.
Did they stay behind? Did they bog roll.
I used the school Sleuth system to log the incident. I went to speak to the Deputy Head about my experiences that afternoon. I told her that there was an undercurrent of deliberately violent aggression in that room and that I never wanted to feel threatened in that way ever again.
And come December, I hope I never will.
* not their real names
I was asked to cover the last lesson of the day and I readily agreed - after all, at the moment, it's what I'm paid for... I made my way to the classroom and I was met with a scene of such chaotic mayhem that I wanted to turn tail and scamper back to my hidey-hole. But I couldn't. I had to go in.
There were tables upended, chairs strewn across the room and about 7 pupils were having a whale of a time causing merry Hell.
I calmly walked in and began righting the furniture, and struggled to make myself heard above the din without actually yelling at the top of my voice.
Rowdy Pupil 1: Orrrh, av we go you, Miss?
TwP: Yes, you have.
Rowdy Pupil 1: Orrrh, no.
Thus the tone was set for the whole lesson. Pupils filed in late and sat down, or didn't. They began getting out their pencil cases, or didn't. They looked expectantly at me for direction, or didn't. There was a distinct divide between pupils who were prepared for the lesson and those who weren't. Those who weren't preferred to continue rearranging the furniture, screeching and generally showing me that I didn't matter one jot.
Rowdy Pupil 2: She's gonna call someone over now!
TwP thinks: No, I'm not. I'm going to deal with this situation!
I tried my usual counting down from 5 routine. There was a lull in the noise long enough for me to explain that I was going to take the register and put their work on the board.
Rowdy Pupil 3: Orrh, we got work, Miss?
TwP: Yes.
I called the register. It took 9 minutes. During this 9 minutes, Rowdy Pupil 4 was attempting to balance a table on two legs. It tottered precariously before falling onto the pupils sitting at it. I asked Rowdy Pupil 4 to step outside. I told him I would come and speak to him in a moment.
With their work up on the board, I distributed the paper they would need to complete said work. The Rowdies began making paper aeroplanes. I went outside to speak to Rowdy Pupil 4, who maintained that he "hadn't done nothing". I didn't make an issue of the double negative; merely left him outside the room and went back to the bedlam within.
Now, throwing paper aeroplanes doesn't seem the biggest sin in the world, and if it were being done in fun, as a silly jape, a teacher might smile fondly and say, "Come on now, let's get down to it", but there was something wrong with this aeroplane throwing - there was an aggression to it. Pupils were out of their seats, removing chairs as if they were obstructions to purpose, and this was all specifically designed to get a reaction from me.
It could have gone either way. By this point, I was trembling, as I struggled to fight my flight instinct.
I began writing on the board.
Darryl, please sit down in your own chair.
Chelsea, could you put your gum in the bin, please?
Lucy, put the table back down.*
One by one, they began reading the board. There was another lull. It lasted about 45 seconds. Before long, the rowdies were back to shouting, pushing each other, launching themselves across tables, at each other, screaming, back to trying to get me to explode with frustration. It was a calculated attack by an unruly mob.
The rest of the lesson passed with my ignoring most of the rowdy behaviour and eventually it died down to a dull roar once they realised I was not going to react in the way they wanted me to. Two girls came to ask me if I was going to do anything about the rowdy pupils as they were "doing our 'eads in, Miss!"
What I wanted to say:
Do you think it would make a blind bit of difference, girls? These children are animals. They are out of control and quite frankly, I don't feel I can confront them in case one of them stabs me! If I were you, I'd get your parents to complain to the Governors.
What I actually said:
I am going to keep them behind after the lesson, girls, and I will talk to them then, because I don't think they will listen now, do you? If you can do your best to get on with the work set, that would be brilliant.
At the end of the lesson, I read out a list of names of the pupils I wanted to speak to.
Did they stay behind? Did they bog roll.
I used the school Sleuth system to log the incident. I went to speak to the Deputy Head about my experiences that afternoon. I told her that there was an undercurrent of deliberately violent aggression in that room and that I never wanted to feel threatened in that way ever again.
And come December, I hope I never will.
* not their real names
Wednesday, 19 October 2011
Day 32 - Kurt Trundlebury's Pencil Case
On Friday, Kurt Trundlebury was in trouble again. He'd come to school without a pencil (or a pen, a ruler or his planner) and thought he would just take what he needed from another pupil's pencil case. The pupil from whom he "borrowed" said items was understandably put out, and he made a fuss - disproportionate obviously, but let's deal with one thing at a time! Kurt was sent out of the room and I followed him to see if I could fight fire with water (a recent Training Provider had offered this advice, and it seems to be the one thing that our staff has taken on board - at least as a notion if not an element of everyday practice).
Outside the room, I asked him if he actually had a fully equipped pencil case at home.
Kurt: Can't afford one Miss.
TwP: Ok.
Kurt: I got trips to pay for, rugby and that.
TwP: I understand that, Kurt, but I think having a pencil and a pen rather takes priority over paying for a rugby trip.
Kurt: But we haven't got much money, Miss.
And then he looked at me, and grinned widely, and slyly.
What was going on here? Have we come so far down the line that pupils are aware that we have to be sensitive to the disparity between our various families' financial situations so they actively use that to justify not having the correct equipment/uniform/whatever?
TwP: Kurt, I think you should consider getting a pen and a pencil at least. You don't have to buy them. I'm sure someone can find you a pencil and a pen of your own, because you can't just take stuff from other people's pencil cases.
Kurt: But he's my cousin, Miss.
TwP: Even so, you shouldn't take things without asking...
Kurt: But he's my cousin. He don't mind.
TwP: Well, clearly he did. So what do you think? Can you get a pencil and pen by Monday?
Kurt nodded. I didn't think for a moment that he would even remember, let alone bother.
However, when I walked into the classroom on Tuesday, I clocked Kurt starightaway.
And the pencil case he'd brought in with him.
Not exactly a towering inferno, but I managed to douse those few flickering flames. Our Training Provider would be proud...
Outside the room, I asked him if he actually had a fully equipped pencil case at home.
Kurt: Can't afford one Miss.
TwP: Ok.
Kurt: I got trips to pay for, rugby and that.
TwP: I understand that, Kurt, but I think having a pencil and a pen rather takes priority over paying for a rugby trip.
Kurt: But we haven't got much money, Miss.
And then he looked at me, and grinned widely, and slyly.
What was going on here? Have we come so far down the line that pupils are aware that we have to be sensitive to the disparity between our various families' financial situations so they actively use that to justify not having the correct equipment/uniform/whatever?
TwP: Kurt, I think you should consider getting a pen and a pencil at least. You don't have to buy them. I'm sure someone can find you a pencil and a pen of your own, because you can't just take stuff from other people's pencil cases.
Kurt: But he's my cousin, Miss.
TwP: Even so, you shouldn't take things without asking...
Kurt: But he's my cousin. He don't mind.
TwP: Well, clearly he did. So what do you think? Can you get a pencil and pen by Monday?
Kurt nodded. I didn't think for a moment that he would even remember, let alone bother.
However, when I walked into the classroom on Tuesday, I clocked Kurt starightaway.
And the pencil case he'd brought in with him.
Not exactly a towering inferno, but I managed to douse those few flickering flames. Our Training Provider would be proud...
Monday, 17 October 2011
Day 31 - Day Release
I'm really not that turned on by vampire lust, but when I was offered the chance to accompany a Year 10 Media class to a Schools' Film Week screening instead of loitering without intent at school on the offchance that someone might be ill and need me to cover their lesson, I accepted the offer.
I'd seen the Swedish version of the film we were going to see, so I was ready for the American interpretation of a story full of blood, death and a sensitive handling of the bullying issue, tempered slightly by what would be referred to as "a tender love story".
What I was not prepared for were the reactions of our pupils who have all the emotional maturity of a shoal of turbot.
Why do teenagers feel compelled to cover up their true feelings by laughing inappropriately? As the solitary and much put upon protagonist, Owen, asks his vampiric heroine if she wants to "go steady", there were gales of laughter. As Abby reaches up to stroke the aging face of her one-time companion to acknowledge all he has done for her, there were hoots and sniggers. As Owen is dragged through the swimming pool changing rooms in his trunks, our moronic audience giggled with glee.
Is it me?
Am I now so old that I have forgotten that I, too, must have snickered along with my peers as they laughed out loud when Leo discovered Marian and Ted making hay while the sun shone in that sweltering summer of 1900...
...or maybe we didn't laugh during that pivotal scene in The Go-Between. Maybe we had a bit of emotional sensitivity back then.
I like to believe we had some sense and knew that laughing out loud to cover up for feelings we didn't understand was inappropriate back in the good ole days of Fifth Form English...
Or it could just be me turning into a cantankerous 40 year old who just doesn't understand the youth she teaches.
I'd seen the Swedish version of the film we were going to see, so I was ready for the American interpretation of a story full of blood, death and a sensitive handling of the bullying issue, tempered slightly by what would be referred to as "a tender love story".
What I was not prepared for were the reactions of our pupils who have all the emotional maturity of a shoal of turbot.
Why do teenagers feel compelled to cover up their true feelings by laughing inappropriately? As the solitary and much put upon protagonist, Owen, asks his vampiric heroine if she wants to "go steady", there were gales of laughter. As Abby reaches up to stroke the aging face of her one-time companion to acknowledge all he has done for her, there were hoots and sniggers. As Owen is dragged through the swimming pool changing rooms in his trunks, our moronic audience giggled with glee.
Is it me?
Am I now so old that I have forgotten that I, too, must have snickered along with my peers as they laughed out loud when Leo discovered Marian and Ted making hay while the sun shone in that sweltering summer of 1900...
...or maybe we didn't laugh during that pivotal scene in The Go-Between. Maybe we had a bit of emotional sensitivity back then.
I like to believe we had some sense and knew that laughing out loud to cover up for feelings we didn't understand was inappropriate back in the good ole days of Fifth Form English...
Or it could just be me turning into a cantankerous 40 year old who just doesn't understand the youth she teaches.
Wednesday, 12 October 2011
Day 28 - Kurt Trundlebury's Plan
Kurt Trundlebury* has a plan. His plan is to behave so badly that he will be transferred to another school, where he believes the teachers aren't as strict and he'll be able to do as he pleases. His plan, however, is flawed. However much the Mail wants people to believe that schools are throwing children out of schools willy nilly, it's actually very difficult to be excluded permanently. In fact, it almost never happens. The most that happens is that you get yourself involved in a "Managed Move" where a school donates one of its naughty children to another school in exchange for one of their naughty children in an attempt to give said naughty children a "Fresh Start".
Kurt's already on Stage 4 of the Pastoral Care system. When he gets to Stage 5, he'll be up before the Governors. They'll get him to admit that he's not a really naughty boy, that he doesn't really want to get thrown out and that he'll try really hard if they give him a chance and that he's sorry he was such a little git.
Then he'll go back to his classes, and be back on report Stage 1 within a few days and so the process will begin again. He'll probably go before the Governors about 6 times after having gone through the Pastoral Care system time and time again before everyone finally admits that maybe a "Managed Move" would be a good idea.
I'd like to manage his move. I'd send him to a magical school, at the top of the tallest tree in the forest, where you have to climb a ladder through the clouds to get there. The School only lands at the top of this magical tree every once in a while and once you're there, you can't run away from it and you can't get away with not doing the impossible work set by its Governor-Teacher. When I was little, I was terrified of ending up at Dame Slap's School for Naughty Children.
I'm willing to bet, though, that Kurt has never had a book read to him in his life, let alone read a whole book himself, so I doubt he has even heard of the Faraway Tree, or Jo, Bessie and Fanny. And even if he had, he probably wouldn't get past page one on which the legendary name "Fanny" is used with gay abandon. Although, actually, I think these days, it's been changed to something fatuous, like Kelsey.
No. Kurt is stuck here for the time being, and although I would love to see Dame Slap get her hands on him, sadly, I'm just going to have to watch him go through the motions of trying to get thrown out.
*not his real name
Kurt's already on Stage 4 of the Pastoral Care system. When he gets to Stage 5, he'll be up before the Governors. They'll get him to admit that he's not a really naughty boy, that he doesn't really want to get thrown out and that he'll try really hard if they give him a chance and that he's sorry he was such a little git.
Then he'll go back to his classes, and be back on report Stage 1 within a few days and so the process will begin again. He'll probably go before the Governors about 6 times after having gone through the Pastoral Care system time and time again before everyone finally admits that maybe a "Managed Move" would be a good idea.
I'd like to manage his move. I'd send him to a magical school, at the top of the tallest tree in the forest, where you have to climb a ladder through the clouds to get there. The School only lands at the top of this magical tree every once in a while and once you're there, you can't run away from it and you can't get away with not doing the impossible work set by its Governor-Teacher. When I was little, I was terrified of ending up at Dame Slap's School for Naughty Children.
I'm willing to bet, though, that Kurt has never had a book read to him in his life, let alone read a whole book himself, so I doubt he has even heard of the Faraway Tree, or Jo, Bessie and Fanny. And even if he had, he probably wouldn't get past page one on which the legendary name "Fanny" is used with gay abandon. Although, actually, I think these days, it's been changed to something fatuous, like Kelsey.
No. Kurt is stuck here for the time being, and although I would love to see Dame Slap get her hands on him, sadly, I'm just going to have to watch him go through the motions of trying to get thrown out.
*not his real name
Tuesday, 11 October 2011
Day 27 - Off the Wall and Under the Table
There was a commotion outside the room in which I was working. I heard the voice of a colleague in need so I went outside to see if I could help. A pupil, with whom I have had "dealings" shall we say, was causing my colleague grief, and she had asked him to stand outside her door. The pupil in question was not able to follow this request, and had repeatedly pushed her door open, poked his nose in through the gap and disrupted as much as he could from that position.
I took him into my little room, the Teachers' Resouce and Preparation Area, and called a member of SMT to take him away.
TwP: Liam*, sit down please.
Liam: No. it's boring.
TwP: Liam, please sit down. There's no-one in here, you can just wait for the end of the lesson.
Liam: No. I don't want to.
He sat down. I continued my work. I heard the door ping. I looked round. Liam was gone. I went to the door, and looked in the corridor. No sign of Liam. Then, I heard a stifled giggle, so I looked under the table. There he was, attempting to hide.
TwP: Liam, come out from under there and sit down.
Liam: No. It's boring. I'd rather stand in the corridor.
He came out from under the table, and started looking round the room.
Liam: What's this room called? Is it your room?
TwP: This is the Teachers' Resource and Preparation Area.
Liam: TRPA? Turpa?
TwP: We could call it the Teachers' Resource Area for Preparation if you prefer to make a real word out of the letters.
Liam: TR...AP. TRAP. But it's not a trap. I can get out of this room any time I like. I know how to do it. You just press this button here. And I know the code to get in. It's easy to work out. How does this work? (pointing to the exit button which releases the door)
TwP: I'm sure you can work that out as well. Please sit down.
Liam: I could break that easy. What's that doing up there? (pointing at a poster in the skylight well) What's the point of putting it up there? No-one will look up there.
TwP: You just did. Please sit down, Liam.
Thankfully, a member of SMT came to pick him up. It took three attempts to get him out of the room, but once he was gone, I became saddened by the notion that children like Liam are becoming commonplace; the norm, rather than the exception. Maybe once that does happen, that there are more disaffected children in schools than hard-working, well-behaved children, or just children who manage to accept what school is all about, then the so-called Mainstream children will finally be "Special" enough to have their educational needs addressed.
*not his real name
I took him into my little room, the Teachers' Resouce and Preparation Area, and called a member of SMT to take him away.
TwP: Liam*, sit down please.
Liam: No. it's boring.
TwP: Liam, please sit down. There's no-one in here, you can just wait for the end of the lesson.
Liam: No. I don't want to.
He sat down. I continued my work. I heard the door ping. I looked round. Liam was gone. I went to the door, and looked in the corridor. No sign of Liam. Then, I heard a stifled giggle, so I looked under the table. There he was, attempting to hide.
TwP: Liam, come out from under there and sit down.
Liam: No. It's boring. I'd rather stand in the corridor.
He came out from under the table, and started looking round the room.
Liam: What's this room called? Is it your room?
TwP: This is the Teachers' Resource and Preparation Area.
Liam: TRPA? Turpa?
TwP: We could call it the Teachers' Resource Area for Preparation if you prefer to make a real word out of the letters.
Liam: TR...AP. TRAP. But it's not a trap. I can get out of this room any time I like. I know how to do it. You just press this button here. And I know the code to get in. It's easy to work out. How does this work? (pointing to the exit button which releases the door)
TwP: I'm sure you can work that out as well. Please sit down.
Liam: I could break that easy. What's that doing up there? (pointing at a poster in the skylight well) What's the point of putting it up there? No-one will look up there.
TwP: You just did. Please sit down, Liam.
Thankfully, a member of SMT came to pick him up. It took three attempts to get him out of the room, but once he was gone, I became saddened by the notion that children like Liam are becoming commonplace; the norm, rather than the exception. Maybe once that does happen, that there are more disaffected children in schools than hard-working, well-behaved children, or just children who manage to accept what school is all about, then the so-called Mainstream children will finally be "Special" enough to have their educational needs addressed.
*not his real name
Friday, 7 October 2011
Days 24 & 25 - 3 down, 4 to go
On Day 24, I covered lessons for a member of my own department. On Day 25, I covered lessons for another member of my own department and as I recall, earlier on in this whole bizarre term, I covered lessons for the teacher who was given the job for which I applied... So, I have been 3 teachers from my own department so far. I now make it my personal quest to be the other 4 at one time or another for at leason one lesson by Christmas, including the teacher who has been employed to teach the classes I would have been teaching this term had I not applied to complete a sabbatical term or indeed, applied for a job in a Crown Dependency...
If you can work that one out, well done.
My head's spinning. I'm feeling slightly personality-disordered. Just pass me a shot and call me Sybil.
If you can work that one out, well done.
My head's spinning. I'm feeling slightly personality-disordered. Just pass me a shot and call me Sybil.
Thursday, 6 October 2011
Day 23 - Contradictory Idiocy
I was supervising the Community Action Project group again today. I supervise two groups of Year 9 students who have all been removed from French lessons because of, and let's make no bones about this, their poor behaviour which means that they are "disadvantaging other students" to use the pc terminology. What I really mean is "disruptive little blighters" (and that's being polite). They talked over each other constantly, talked over the tutor, refused to take part in the Team Building exercises and generally acted like the feral creatures everybody believes them to be.
So when the tutor eventually called them on their behaviour, the exchange went something like this:
Tutor: You said earlier that all the teachers just shout at you and it doesn't make any difference.
Pupil 1: Yeah. We're used to it so it don't have any affect on us.
Pupil 2: Yeah, it just goes in through one ear and out the other.
Pupil 3: I don't even listen no more. It's not worth it. I don't care.
Pupil 1: They just shouts all the time.
Tutor: So I'm not going to shout at you, because I know it won't have the slightest effect. But you lot are behaving appallingly today. You're not listening to each other and you're being so rude.
(During this statement, Pupil 3 attempted to interrupt the Tutor after almost every word she said. It was almost as if he couldn't stop himself)
Pupil 1: They treats us like...like...we're a child. They don't respect us.
Tutor: But you don't have any respect for them either. Or for each other.
Pupil 1: They expect us to behave like adults, but we're not, we're children!
Tutor: They don't expect you to behave like adults, but they certainly don't expect you to be so childish still. You know how to behave.
Pupil 3: Yeah, but we gets angry sometimes.
Tutor: So what could you do about that? To manage your anger?
Pupil 3: Go to Anger Management.
Tutor: Yes. Good.
Pupil 3: But I don't go to Anger Management.
Tutor: But you could manage your anger. If you know you're going to be angry, you can do something about it. You don't have to give in to it.
Pupil 3: Yeah, but I don't go to Anger Management.
Tutor: Listen, I am seething with boiling rage at the moment, but I'm managing to control it.
Pupil 3: But we gets angry.
And so on. The session ended soon after that with the Assistant Head's arrival and a threat that next week's session would be cancelled.
I'm not entirely certain that any of the group would be that bothered.
So when the tutor eventually called them on their behaviour, the exchange went something like this:
Tutor: You said earlier that all the teachers just shout at you and it doesn't make any difference.
Pupil 1: Yeah. We're used to it so it don't have any affect on us.
Pupil 2: Yeah, it just goes in through one ear and out the other.
Pupil 3: I don't even listen no more. It's not worth it. I don't care.
Pupil 1: They just shouts all the time.
Tutor: So I'm not going to shout at you, because I know it won't have the slightest effect. But you lot are behaving appallingly today. You're not listening to each other and you're being so rude.
(During this statement, Pupil 3 attempted to interrupt the Tutor after almost every word she said. It was almost as if he couldn't stop himself)
Pupil 1: They treats us like...like...we're a child. They don't respect us.
Tutor: But you don't have any respect for them either. Or for each other.
Pupil 1: They expect us to behave like adults, but we're not, we're children!
Tutor: They don't expect you to behave like adults, but they certainly don't expect you to be so childish still. You know how to behave.
Pupil 3: Yeah, but we gets angry sometimes.
Tutor: So what could you do about that? To manage your anger?
Pupil 3: Go to Anger Management.
Tutor: Yes. Good.
Pupil 3: But I don't go to Anger Management.
Tutor: But you could manage your anger. If you know you're going to be angry, you can do something about it. You don't have to give in to it.
Pupil 3: Yeah, but I don't go to Anger Management.
Tutor: Listen, I am seething with boiling rage at the moment, but I'm managing to control it.
Pupil 3: But we gets angry.
And so on. The session ended soon after that with the Assistant Head's arrival and a threat that next week's session would be cancelled.
I'm not entirely certain that any of the group would be that bothered.
Tuesday, 4 October 2011
Day 21 - Free Lessons
What is it about our schoolchildren that, as soon as they set eyes on a supply teacher, they immediately assume they are going to get a "free lesson" and that they will not have to do any work?
Luckily, I was covering for a colleague who sets work for her classes if she knows she is going to be away, so I had a full collection of lessons to teach - a dream scenario! This is not always the case. Even when teachers know they are going to be on courses, they sometimes neglect to leave work for their classes to complete, mainly because they know it doesn't always get done - and what's the point of spending time planning for and setting work that does not ultimately get done?
So, when I was greeted with the usual chant "Have we got a free lesson?" I was able to say quite categorically that there was work set and they would be completing it.
Which they did and I was able to realise the dream!
Luckily, I was covering for a colleague who sets work for her classes if she knows she is going to be away, so I had a full collection of lessons to teach - a dream scenario! This is not always the case. Even when teachers know they are going to be on courses, they sometimes neglect to leave work for their classes to complete, mainly because they know it doesn't always get done - and what's the point of spending time planning for and setting work that does not ultimately get done?
So, when I was greeted with the usual chant "Have we got a free lesson?" I was able to say quite categorically that there was work set and they would be completing it.
Which they did and I was able to realise the dream!
Friday, 30 September 2011
Day 20 - RSI
Having been typing more or less continuously since the beginning of term now, instead of breaking it up with teaching, I have developed a severe case of RSI from cocking my little finger as I four finger type. Either I need to alter the way I hold my fingers, or I am not going to be able to face sitting down at this keyboard for another stint next week.
I can't even hold a pen properly any more.
Oh well. At least it's Friday.
I can't even hold a pen properly any more.
Oh well. At least it's Friday.
Day 19 - Actual Teaching is Exhausting
A member of my English department was at a meeting all day today, so I got to be her. I got to be an English teacher!
It's funny, but looking in on this profession while still a member of it shows me exactly how relentlessly tiring it really is, and how much of it is pupil behaviour management, not actual teaching. I had 3 scehduled lessons before lunch and one after (Year 12 do not come to lessons if their teacher is away) and for every class, I had to explain what I was actually doing in school these days. The pupils know me as an English teacher and now they are confused about my role, and consequently, they believe they do not have to behave in my presence. They are wrong.
I reminded them about good manners, asked them to avoid calling out, calling across the room, throwing things at each other, playing on their phones, playing on someone else's phone, drawing on tables, swinging dangerously on chairs, hitting each other with rulers; it was endless.
And it was exhausting. They were exhausting. I'm exhausted writing this now, just thinking about it. My head aches, my hands ache, my eyes ache. Even my eyelashes ache. I haven't taught a full day since July.
The same teacher is away at another meeting on Monday so I have to do it all over again. Best get some sleep in this weekend then.
It's funny, but looking in on this profession while still a member of it shows me exactly how relentlessly tiring it really is, and how much of it is pupil behaviour management, not actual teaching. I had 3 scehduled lessons before lunch and one after (Year 12 do not come to lessons if their teacher is away) and for every class, I had to explain what I was actually doing in school these days. The pupils know me as an English teacher and now they are confused about my role, and consequently, they believe they do not have to behave in my presence. They are wrong.
I reminded them about good manners, asked them to avoid calling out, calling across the room, throwing things at each other, playing on their phones, playing on someone else's phone, drawing on tables, swinging dangerously on chairs, hitting each other with rulers; it was endless.
And it was exhausting. They were exhausting. I'm exhausted writing this now, just thinking about it. My head aches, my hands ache, my eyes ache. Even my eyelashes ache. I haven't taught a full day since July.
The same teacher is away at another meeting on Monday so I have to do it all over again. Best get some sleep in this weekend then.
Wednesday, 28 September 2011
Day 18 - Meerkats, Gorillas and a steaming bus
I was asked to accompany a Year 10 group of ICT students to Bristol Zoo today; last year's Year 9 - not the most pleasant of year groups to be honest, and therefore not the most enticing of prospects, but I agreed to go, despite my ambivalence about zoos and Year 10 in general. School trips do not thrill me at the best of times, particularly given the vast amounts of beaurocracy that accompanies them, but the thought that I would not be responsible for the overall administration of this trip and the fact that it was a relatively short one (leaving at 9, back by 3 in time for the last buzzer) informed my final decision.
We got on a bus. We set off. We arrived. We looked at sad creatures in small enclosures. We got hot. We got back on a bus. We travelled back, getting hotter and hotter with the freakish September weather that has descended upon Wales this week. We arrived back at school in time for the last buzzer. Nothing untoward happened. Paperwork was completed. No children were lost or fell into an enclosure. Everything went well.
Now I'm supervising a detention with a young man who needs to learn some manners. Apparently, his parents are very disppointed that he has an after school detention. So am I. It's nice outside. I should be in my garden with a mojito, enjoying this freakish September weather.
We got on a bus. We set off. We arrived. We looked at sad creatures in small enclosures. We got hot. We got back on a bus. We travelled back, getting hotter and hotter with the freakish September weather that has descended upon Wales this week. We arrived back at school in time for the last buzzer. Nothing untoward happened. Paperwork was completed. No children were lost or fell into an enclosure. Everything went well.
Now I'm supervising a detention with a young man who needs to learn some manners. Apparently, his parents are very disppointed that he has an after school detention. So am I. It's nice outside. I should be in my garden with a mojito, enjoying this freakish September weather.
Friday, 23 September 2011
Day 14 - Fire Drill!
It took my only scheduled class of the week 17 minutes to arrive from PE for my PSE lesson, 23 minutes to settle down, take off their coats, stop whingeing about how hot the room was, sit in the seats in which I had asked them to sit, finish arguments in involving the insult "Pikey" and to stop hitting each other, 11 minutes to take from their portfolios the work they were going to do.....
And then the fire alarm went off.
Lesson over. Let's see if I can actually get them working next week.
And then the fire alarm went off.
Lesson over. Let's see if I can actually get them working next week.
Wednesday, 21 September 2011
Day 13 - Talking Absolute Nonsense
My main task today was to supervise a group of disaffected pupils extracted from French lessons so that they can work with a Law Enforcement officer. A teacher, by law, has to be in with the group. So, I sat there in an official capacity, but wasn't required to particiapte or intervene.
The utter nonsense that came from these children was completely dispiriting. When they weren't bad-mouthing my colleagues, they were regaling Urban Myths and wittering on about so and so in Year 9 who's pregnant and, horror of horrors, going to keep the baby! "Oh my God if that was me, I'd be so embarrassed! My dad would stab me in the head!"
They spent an hour talking all over each other, yelling at each other even though not one of them was more than 6 inches away from another, they talked all over the group Facilitator and were thoroughly unpleasant throughout. Just listening to them was hard work.
I think maybe tomorrow, the group leader would be well served by laying down some group work ground rules before even attempting to achieve what she wants to achieve - maybe that way, I won't have to listen to a lot of ill-informed, self-satisfied, mindless drivel while I'm checking my emails (a task I resorted to as I couldn't concentrate on the Literacy work I had to do). I certainly can't do any serious work with that racket going on.
Alternatively, I could bring my earplugs into school...
The utter nonsense that came from these children was completely dispiriting. When they weren't bad-mouthing my colleagues, they were regaling Urban Myths and wittering on about so and so in Year 9 who's pregnant and, horror of horrors, going to keep the baby! "Oh my God if that was me, I'd be so embarrassed! My dad would stab me in the head!"
They spent an hour talking all over each other, yelling at each other even though not one of them was more than 6 inches away from another, they talked all over the group Facilitator and were thoroughly unpleasant throughout. Just listening to them was hard work.
I think maybe tomorrow, the group leader would be well served by laying down some group work ground rules before even attempting to achieve what she wants to achieve - maybe that way, I won't have to listen to a lot of ill-informed, self-satisfied, mindless drivel while I'm checking my emails (a task I resorted to as I couldn't concentrate on the Literacy work I had to do). I certainly can't do any serious work with that racket going on.
Alternatively, I could bring my earplugs into school...
Day 12 - Qualify or bust
I have to get two Year 11 pupils through an Essential Skills Wales Communication qualification, now that they have no curriculum provision on a Tuesday since the demise of their College course. I will take them through this qualification during Lessons 4 and 5 on a Tuesday. Guess who didn't turn up Lessons 4 and 5 this Tuesday. That's right.
But they have to get this qualification or it will upset the balance of outcomes and bugger up the school stats....
Never mind they should have to get this qualification because it will benefit them, not the school's blinging statistics.
Although, if we're honest, what real use is a Level 1 Essential Skills Wales certificate in Communication? Oh, I'm terribly cynical today!
But they have to get this qualification or it will upset the balance of outcomes and bugger up the school stats....
Never mind they should have to get this qualification because it will benefit them, not the school's blinging statistics.
Although, if we're honest, what real use is a Level 1 Essential Skills Wales certificate in Communication? Oh, I'm terribly cynical today!
Monday, 19 September 2011
Day 11 - Form 3 Physics Flashback
My mission today was to produce some literacy materials for Maths. I was determined that I would not let personal fear get in the way of fulfilling my orders, so I asked the Head of Maths for some direction. She furnished me with several chunks of text which I would be able to use to generate Maths-specific reading tasks. The first one I tackled posed a real problem for me: Colour mixing. Everybody knows that red and blue make purple, and that red and yellow make orange - but that's elementary paint mixing. When it comes to mixing light, well, that's Physics, surely? And when you add in the fact that suddenly, light has divisions called magenta and cyan, well, I have to admit, I did spend rather a lot of time trying to figure out that magenta is reddish purple (easy!) and cyan is....what colour is that, exactly?
Then there was a lot of incomprehensible stuff about an apple reflecting green light, and absorbing red and blue light. Absorbing red and blue? Where? Under its skin? And how does the apple know that it has to reflect green light? Is the skin not green to begin with? And then, I'm afraid, I'm into Philosophy, which is perfectly useless when I'm trying to figure out how to put light equations into a simple table for Literacy purposes.
I'm supposed to be reasonably intelligent - but I still can't work out which light you take away to leave the colour you need reflected. So, the question is, if I can't understand the simplest of Mathematics/Physics, then what chance have the pupils for whom these resources are created?
Then there was a lot of incomprehensible stuff about an apple reflecting green light, and absorbing red and blue light. Absorbing red and blue? Where? Under its skin? And how does the apple know that it has to reflect green light? Is the skin not green to begin with? And then, I'm afraid, I'm into Philosophy, which is perfectly useless when I'm trying to figure out how to put light equations into a simple table for Literacy purposes.
I'm supposed to be reasonably intelligent - but I still can't work out which light you take away to leave the colour you need reflected. So, the question is, if I can't understand the simplest of Mathematics/Physics, then what chance have the pupils for whom these resources are created?
Day 10 - End of Week 2
This week has gone so quickly. I have to admit, I'm quite enjoying myself. It must be true what they say - a change is as good as a rest. I have floated about school, being useful, helpful, cheerful and purposeful, something I wouldn't have thought possible last week. But today I was a teacher again!
Being a teacher is usually a slog. Every day, it's a slog. I never saw it before, though, and I just accepted it as my lot. So much of it is pure drudgery. Getting through one hour after another with maybe the slightest hope that at the end of that hour, perhaps two or three of the pupils in my care would have made some progress.
But I worked with 5 pupils today. Not exactly one-to-one, but it might as well have been. I was able to devote my time equally to each of them in turn. Quietly. Calmly. Methodically. Instead of having 33 braying teens all clamouring at once for attention, I had 5 little stars who waited patiently for their turn. It makes a difference, you know. Of course it does - and anyone who says otherwise is seriously deluded.
Class sizes do matter. My 5 little stars completed more work today than my former Year 9s could manage in a week. Even though I had to juggle 5 different rates of progress, 5 different levels of ability, 5 different emotional profiles, 5 different styles of learning, I was able to simply because there were only 5 in the class.
I'm looking forward to my next session with them. I might actually make a difference here. Wouldn't that be novel!
Being a teacher is usually a slog. Every day, it's a slog. I never saw it before, though, and I just accepted it as my lot. So much of it is pure drudgery. Getting through one hour after another with maybe the slightest hope that at the end of that hour, perhaps two or three of the pupils in my care would have made some progress.
But I worked with 5 pupils today. Not exactly one-to-one, but it might as well have been. I was able to devote my time equally to each of them in turn. Quietly. Calmly. Methodically. Instead of having 33 braying teens all clamouring at once for attention, I had 5 little stars who waited patiently for their turn. It makes a difference, you know. Of course it does - and anyone who says otherwise is seriously deluded.
Class sizes do matter. My 5 little stars completed more work today than my former Year 9s could manage in a week. Even though I had to juggle 5 different rates of progress, 5 different levels of ability, 5 different emotional profiles, 5 different styles of learning, I was able to simply because there were only 5 in the class.
I'm looking forward to my next session with them. I might actually make a difference here. Wouldn't that be novel!
Thursday, 15 September 2011
Day 9 - Sound, she is, mun!
The highest praise a teacher can overhear about herself is that she's sound.
I had been given a class to teach for the rest of this term, ostensibly so that the class teacher could be released to set up a Therapy Group for Pupils with Low Self Esteem. So, every Thursday, I would be teaching PSE to 7C. Today was my first session with them.
We barely had time to do Introductions before the lesson was over, but during the session, we established that I'm a big fan of Good Manners, that if you use Good Manners all the time, there is no way you can ever get into trouble, that at least 7 of the boys were confused by my Classroom Personality and spent the whole lesson working out ways of trying to challenge my authority, and that there are 5 City fans in the room, myself included.
"Where do you sit down the ground, then?" demanded Scott, challengingly, as if he'd catch me out if I didn't know the areas of the ground. He was one of the ones who was trying to work out how to undermine me and take the class.
"Near the tunnel," I answered. Scott tried again.
"You know what a Glory Hunter is?"
"Yes."
"You one of them?"
"I've been a City supporter since I was 6," I told the little tyke. "That's 34 years, so don't you go casting aspersions, young fella me laddio!"
"Worrrh! 34 yerze! 'igh five, Miss!" interjected William, who was a member of the English class in which I supported a fellow member of the English Department, and I obliged by high-fiving him. It was, after all, Collecting In Portfolios Time. Scott gave him a look of disgust, but I could see I'd possibly taken William out of Scott's Naughty Gang from that moment on, simply by being a City supporter.
When I had dismissed them, they trundled noisily out of the room. I followed a few moments later to go and get my lunch. Voices floated up to me in the stairwell:
"What have you just had?"
"PSE with Ms B!"
"Orrrrh! She my English teacher, she is!"
"Sound she is, mun!"
As I said, the highest praise a teacher can overhear about herself is that she's sound. I smiled all the way to the fridge.
I had been given a class to teach for the rest of this term, ostensibly so that the class teacher could be released to set up a Therapy Group for Pupils with Low Self Esteem. So, every Thursday, I would be teaching PSE to 7C. Today was my first session with them.
We barely had time to do Introductions before the lesson was over, but during the session, we established that I'm a big fan of Good Manners, that if you use Good Manners all the time, there is no way you can ever get into trouble, that at least 7 of the boys were confused by my Classroom Personality and spent the whole lesson working out ways of trying to challenge my authority, and that there are 5 City fans in the room, myself included.
"Where do you sit down the ground, then?" demanded Scott, challengingly, as if he'd catch me out if I didn't know the areas of the ground. He was one of the ones who was trying to work out how to undermine me and take the class.
"Near the tunnel," I answered. Scott tried again.
"You know what a Glory Hunter is?"
"Yes."
"You one of them?"
"I've been a City supporter since I was 6," I told the little tyke. "That's 34 years, so don't you go casting aspersions, young fella me laddio!"
"Worrrh! 34 yerze! 'igh five, Miss!" interjected William, who was a member of the English class in which I supported a fellow member of the English Department, and I obliged by high-fiving him. It was, after all, Collecting In Portfolios Time. Scott gave him a look of disgust, but I could see I'd possibly taken William out of Scott's Naughty Gang from that moment on, simply by being a City supporter.
When I had dismissed them, they trundled noisily out of the room. I followed a few moments later to go and get my lunch. Voices floated up to me in the stairwell:
"What have you just had?"
"PSE with Ms B!"
"Orrrrh! She my English teacher, she is!"
"Sound she is, mun!"
As I said, the highest praise a teacher can overhear about herself is that she's sound. I smiled all the way to the fridge.
Wednesday, 14 September 2011
Day 8 - Convincing the Masses
Department Meeting at Lunch time
HoD: Would you like to explain to everyone what you're up to, Teacher Without Portfolio?
TwP: Actually, I would. And I actually have a Portfolio now, actually. Actually, I'm working with some Year 9 pupils, I have a PSE lesson on Thursdays and we have two Year 11 pupils who failed their College courses so they're back with us on a Tuesday and I am going to push them through an Essential Skills Wales Communication Level 1 Qualification. I am supporting the 2nd in Department for 5 sessions a week, and I'm also creating Literacy Resources for use across the Curriculum. You can find me up in the Teaching Resouce Room, and if you would like me to produce some resources specifically for you, I can do that too.
HoD: So, not just sitting on your arse drinking tea then?
TwP: No.
KEY
HoD: Would you like to explain to everyone what you're up to, Teacher Without Portfolio?
TwP: Actually, I would. And I actually have a Portfolio now, actually. Actually, I'm working with some Year 9 pupils, I have a PSE lesson on Thursdays and we have two Year 11 pupils who failed their College courses so they're back with us on a Tuesday and I am going to push them through an Essential Skills Wales Communication Level 1 Qualification. I am supporting the 2nd in Department for 5 sessions a week, and I'm also creating Literacy Resources for use across the Curriculum. You can find me up in the Teaching Resouce Room, and if you would like me to produce some resources specifically for you, I can do that too.
HoD: So, not just sitting on your arse drinking tea then?
TwP: No.
KEY
TwP - Teacher Without Portfolio
HoD - Head of Department
Tuesday, 13 September 2011
Day 7 - Word Gets Out
Apparently, people seem to be so confused about my role within the confines of this school now that they are beginning to make things up for me to do. So far, these are my jobs:
1. Literacy Support 5 English lessons a week
2. Cover for Absent Teachers
3. Create Resources to Support Literacy Across the Curriculum
4. Work with 2 Year 11 pupils who have failed their Alternative Curriculum Courses and get them through an ESW Communication qualification
5. Teach PSE to a Year 7 class once a week.
That seems to be enough to be getting on with, but the sessions in the classroom are all over the timetable and consequently, my "Creating Resources to Support Literacy Across the Curriculum" time is has now fragmented so that the time I do have is barely adequate to get a good head of steam up.
Still, at least people are now becoming aware that I'm not just sitting with my feet up, drinking tea.
1. Literacy Support 5 English lessons a week
2. Cover for Absent Teachers
3. Create Resources to Support Literacy Across the Curriculum
4. Work with 2 Year 11 pupils who have failed their Alternative Curriculum Courses and get them through an ESW Communication qualification
5. Teach PSE to a Year 7 class once a week.
That seems to be enough to be getting on with, but the sessions in the classroom are all over the timetable and consequently, my "Creating Resources to Support Literacy Across the Curriculum" time is has now fragmented so that the time I do have is barely adequate to get a good head of steam up.
Still, at least people are now becoming aware that I'm not just sitting with my feet up, drinking tea.
Day 6 - Nothing Much Happens
I have been holed up in this room, typing furiously for 5 hours straight and I have produced 4 PowerPoint presentations taking a tour through Reading Exercises designed to help pupils practise their basic reading skills. My wrist hurts, my eyes are seeing text boxes where there really can't be text boxes and my kettle still hasn't rid itself of its newness.
I shall stop for today. It is 3.05 after all. I must boil the kettle one more time before I leave. Maybe on Monday, I'll finally be able to have a cup of tea. Oh, no, hang on, I'm not supposed to take a break in case someone thinks I'm bunking off this term. If only they knew. If only they knew.
I shall stop for today. It is 3.05 after all. I must boil the kettle one more time before I leave. Maybe on Monday, I'll finally be able to have a cup of tea. Oh, no, hang on, I'm not supposed to take a break in case someone thinks I'm bunking off this term. If only they knew. If only they knew.
Friday, 9 September 2011
Day 5 - The Twilight Zone
Cue spooky Twilight Zone music, or Halloween theme, or the Amityville Horror theme. Any one would do.
I was asked to cover my first lesson today. In my old classroom. With my former Year 10 class.
I knew the layout of the room had been changed by the new teacher in my room. Still, it was jolly odd, teaching in a space that had been, for the last 3 years at least, so familiar to me.The tables were arranged so that there was very little room for manoeuvre and the teacher's desk was in a totally alien (to me, anyway) place. However, the pupils I would be supervising, and with any luck, teaching, were essentially the same. My last year's Year 10, now this year's Year 11. A little bit older, and perhaps a little bit wiser? They were friendly and enthusiastic and keen to get on. Pleased that I was teaching them; eager to know whether I would be teaching them every Friday - but I had to put them straight. They took it well. There were no disparaging comments about their new teacher. I have taught them good manners at least!
Work I had begun with them last year was carrying on, albeit with a different approach. All I had to do was implement the new teacher's instructions. Easy enough. They responded well, with sensible contributions and a dedication which I know they learnt last year during the course of my lessons. When I took them on, they were a rowdy, disaffected, rude rabble and we worked hard together to ensure that the expectations of good manners, self-control and concentration were met.
Consequently, I realise I will miss this particular class when I leave. I will miss only one other class as a whole. Individual pupils will be missed too, but only two whole classes have won a place in my affections.
But however pleased I was to be teaching a familiar class in a familiar room with familiar work - I was still glad when the buzzer sounded and I could get back to the task I was set yesterday. There's a little devil on my shoulder and she's getting ready to poke me with her fork...
Continue your chosen Horror music till fade....
I was asked to cover my first lesson today. In my old classroom. With my former Year 10 class.
I knew the layout of the room had been changed by the new teacher in my room. Still, it was jolly odd, teaching in a space that had been, for the last 3 years at least, so familiar to me.The tables were arranged so that there was very little room for manoeuvre and the teacher's desk was in a totally alien (to me, anyway) place. However, the pupils I would be supervising, and with any luck, teaching, were essentially the same. My last year's Year 10, now this year's Year 11. A little bit older, and perhaps a little bit wiser? They were friendly and enthusiastic and keen to get on. Pleased that I was teaching them; eager to know whether I would be teaching them every Friday - but I had to put them straight. They took it well. There were no disparaging comments about their new teacher. I have taught them good manners at least!
Work I had begun with them last year was carrying on, albeit with a different approach. All I had to do was implement the new teacher's instructions. Easy enough. They responded well, with sensible contributions and a dedication which I know they learnt last year during the course of my lessons. When I took them on, they were a rowdy, disaffected, rude rabble and we worked hard together to ensure that the expectations of good manners, self-control and concentration were met.
Consequently, I realise I will miss this particular class when I leave. I will miss only one other class as a whole. Individual pupils will be missed too, but only two whole classes have won a place in my affections.
But however pleased I was to be teaching a familiar class in a familiar room with familiar work - I was still glad when the buzzer sounded and I could get back to the task I was set yesterday. There's a little devil on my shoulder and she's getting ready to poke me with her fork...
Continue your chosen Horror music till fade....
Thursday, 8 September 2011
Day 4 - Something to do
"Can you do me a favour?"
The magic words! At last, someone needs me to do something! After 4 days of lurking in a room which is not my own, I have Something to Do! Now I don't have to shy away from the accusatory glances of my former peers as I try to justify my existence with the unspoken lament None of this is my fault!
I was to fill in an order form. A list of numbers, codes, prices and descriptions of border colours. Imagine my excitement.
Then, my cup overflowed as I was handed a pile of papers and asked to rewrite them so that they could be used to improve literacy in the school. I have been working solidly for two hours now. This is my break. My lucky break!
The magic words! At last, someone needs me to do something! After 4 days of lurking in a room which is not my own, I have Something to Do! Now I don't have to shy away from the accusatory glances of my former peers as I try to justify my existence with the unspoken lament None of this is my fault!
I was to fill in an order form. A list of numbers, codes, prices and descriptions of border colours. Imagine my excitement.
Then, my cup overflowed as I was handed a pile of papers and asked to rewrite them so that they could be used to improve literacy in the school. I have been working solidly for two hours now. This is my break. My lucky break!
Wednesday, 7 September 2011
Day 3 - The Timetable Takes Shape
This was supposed to be the perfect end to a fantastic career at a well-respected school. Instead, I am sitting in a room which has, over the years, become a dumping ground for OPC (Other People's Crap), wondering how on earth I managed to slide back down the ladder - again! I have filled two bins, wiped down every surface with industrial strength lemon zest antibacterial cloths and cleaned the small fridge that I found lurking under the teetering pile of the Class of 2003 ICT Coursework Portfolios. Ah well, at least there's somewhere to put my beetroot salad.
Today I have sorted out my timetable. 5 lessons supporting another member of my former department. At all other times, I will be covering teachers who are ill or away taking a course.
Now I will see how the other half lives...
Today I have sorted out my timetable. 5 lessons supporting another member of my former department. At all other times, I will be covering teachers who are ill or away taking a course.
Now I will see how the other half lives...
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