So I've been getting a lot of people (well, 4) commenting on the fact that I haven't done my blog in a while. Looking back, I realise that I haven't updated in over a week. That's possibly the longest yet.
I'm not going to bother even trying to go over in as much detail as normal the week and a half I've missed off, save for a few "highlights". What I will say is this: after a long, arduous term in autumn, working from 7am until 10 or later at night, I decided that I didn't want to be pumping as many hours into this career anymore. For a start, I fucking hated working that much. So I decided to relax a bit, come in early, leave earlier, and not worry too much if every resource for every lesson is perfect or not.
So on the one hand I have felt a lot less stressed at home. On the other, I've felt way more stressed at work. I've gotten into the habit of leaving all my prep to the morning before school, which meant that the lessons which weren't finished felt rushed and unprepared. In turn, I've felt a lot less happy about them. So although I know I was pushing myself way too hard before Christmas, I've now gone the other way. I need to redress the balance, so after half term I'm going to try to find a happy medium.
Before then, I've got little less than two weeks left. The best part is, I'm not even in school next week; I'm going to be on my second school placement at the local OUTSTANDING grammar (I think) school. So now I have four days left with my kids.
So here's what you've missed:
So the last couple of weeks felt primarily concerned with Year 9. A has been in and out of several lessons, and on one occasion, when I was teaching on my own, I sent him out and had to send for SLT to remove him. One senior teacher turned up, and not only removed him but sat in the end of my lesson. Awkward.
I also did speaking and listening with Year 10. We played a few (alcohol free) drinking games to get them warmed up, which was pretty fun. They were all quite good, but I was silly enough to allow certain students to come and perform for me later in break and lunch time. Mainly to fit them all in.
I also had to have my professional tutor (and Teachy Firsty LDO) come in to help me fill in my journal (still not up to date.) Shame.
This was what I had written for that Friday:
There may be 52 of them a year, but it doesn't stop Friday being the most wonderful day ever. At least, I thought so.
I skipped into work pretty early, being the first to arrive in the department (bar the cleaner) and did a happy little dance at the thought of having such a good day. As with every Friday, I only had two lessons - the best two, as well. I was looking forward to the end of the day and the fact that payday is now only a week away.
I finished off the Year 10 Speaking & Listening and then looked forward to the library session with year 7. In break I had a weirdly full classroom - with kids coming in to perform their speaking and listening (more on that later) and a year 7 doing her detention. Plus another year 7 just turned up because she was bored. One of my year 11s even turned up to get me to fill in his college application form, which was nice to see.
Year 7's library session turned into an extremely stressful lesson. The kids were hyper, and I was pissed off that my usual hour for quiet reading was ruined by kids that just did not want to. I spent the hour walking around telling the buggers to be quiet and separating them. Very frustrating.
I spent period 5 babysitting some of the more hyperactive year 8s that were kicked out of their lessons, then shot off to FINALLY speak to A. I'd been trying to track him down all week for a chat. Luckily for me he'd been kicked out of his art class so I could sit and chat to him about his behaviour. We decided (or rather, I got him to agree) that he would try hard on Monday and, depending on that behaviour, I would or would not call his mother. I needn't have bothered with that conversation, as it turned out, but I was becoming concerned that our 'relationship' which had been quite effective, if I could call it that, before Christmas, had deteriorated somewhat. I was determined to sort things out. So that was one week over, thank goodness, and I probably went to the pub after. How funny that I've forgotten already.
I wasn't looking forward to the next week - my heavier week, as it were. Do I ever?
The highlight of Monday was my observation with my professional tutor in my first period. When I say highlight, I am of course being deeply sarcastic. The lesson was never going to work, what with my attempting to put them into groups. I had to make some quick adaptations to keep them on task, eventually lumping the disruptive kids together. The lesson culminated with one of my naughtier girls, S, pushing my most obnoxious boy, W, over a table. Hilarity ensued. Not. "Yes... they're not really a very nice group, are they?" were my tutor's first words after.
On Wednesday the highlight by far was my year 7 group performing their Romeo and Juliet Jeremy Kyle Show things. They were fairly amusing, especially one group that ended up adding some rather more dramatic elements (shootings and so forth) qhich certainly livened up my morning.
Another highlight of the day, or rather week, was year 11. I had prepared a lesson myself on a short story which I didn't know very well, but I was looking forward to teaching it. ("Never look forward to a lesson - you'll only be disappointed.") As it turned out, the kids were pretty good. I was a little irritated that K came in and put his head straight down on the desk as I was reading. He did take his jacket and hat off first, thankfully. I decided to let him lie there rather than interrupt my story telling, because he'd been really responsive in the previous couple of lessons, even provoking me to applaud him with one of his answers. So I was sat on my desk discussing the story with my group when another member of SLT turned up at the door.
"I'm just looking for someone, but he's not here." he said.
"Ok, no worries." I garbled.
As he went to turn away he caught a glimpse of the sleeping K, and gently rebuked him. How embarrassing. As it turned out, K was probably the one person he was looking for, as by the end of the day I'd received an email stating that five students, including K and another in that group, had been excluded for "robbery and bringing the school into disrepute."
Last lesson Wednesday I had year 10, and on the advice of my colleague I gave them a creative writing task, at which some of them were excellent. They had to write on a topic of their choice for about half an hour, although getting them to silence was near impossible, which it shouldn't be really. I read out a couple at the end, and there were some crackers.
After school on Wednesday we had a departmental meeting, which was primarily focussed on year 11 and the new exam board specifications which will be starting this September. I also managed to do the most embarrassing thing yet: burst into tears in the middle of the damned thing. Why? Well, I felt sad for my year 11s. They have once again been excluded from any sort of booster initiative (obviously the school wants to focus on the kids that might get a C.) I've really started to like the boys in that group, and I respect so much the guys in there that try really hard. There are kids in there that could do a lot better if they had language or basic literacy help, and there are kids in there that try so hard but will probably never do any better. It makes me feel so sad and helpless - I don't know, I genuinely don't know what I can do to help them. Of course, I got a lot of ribbing for the tears (it was ridiculous after all) but I'm still concerned that I need to think of a way to help them more. Perhaps an after school revision club...
On Thursday all I can remember is having to deal with year 9. First off, A was back in the classroom and I had to practically sit on him all lesson to make him behave, and he still couldn't. I also had to deal with the nightmare boys who just wouldn't shut up. We kept about five of them behind because they were infuriating - throwing things, answering back and being generally stupid. I threatened them all with bringing their mothers in, although I should really step up my SIMS logging if I'm going to do that. I need to implement a better seating plan, and stat!
I finished the evening with TF training at a local(ish) school. The only good thing was that my colleague went with me, and made the whole thing (it was on data) hilarious rather than just tedious. Plus there were some nice flapjacks.
On Friday I had Teach Firsty training, so didn't have to go to school, obviously. Instead I spent the day in a classroom in Birkbeck discussing all sorts of school-related jazz whilst nursing a hangover. It wasn't great, but it certainly wasn't terrible either. Friday was also pay day. Hurrah! I ended up having a fabulous weekend to round off what was a rather difficult week.
So that's been it. I can't believe I'm nearly half way through the year. Just one more week to get through.
Thursday 21 January 2010
Wednesday 20 January 2010
Day 83: "Just one more thing... let me take you back 2 years"... "OH GOD!"
There's nothing quite like an hour long, compulsory, staff meeting after work. We were given the news that the school was not only on the road to Academy status, but that we are hurtling towards it at breakneck speed. In fact, the school will close and reopen in September 2010. This date took a few of us by surprise, but it sounds all set. I felt particularly embarrassed at the end of the meeting, as I do whenever I resort to childish behaviour, when my department (sat together, of course) began to figit, whisper and giggle. I tried my hardest not to guffaw when a maths colleague posed the questions to the sponsors: "How do you get your money?"
The meeting rounded off what had been a satisfactory day. Year 9 were not too bad, I showed them a short video I had found that they really really enjoyed, and although my organisation was a little screwy, the lesson wasn't too bad - although it fell apart at the end. A was ejected almost immediately, big surprise.
Year 11 were also quite responsive after; K even wrote in his book. I nearly fell off my chair! We listened to The Gold Cadillac as recorded by my lovely colleague. Her 'American' accent was pretty good but I couldn't help but laugh at her rendition of the line "Whatcha talkin' 'bout?"
I had two frees next, so spent them, as always, trying to mark and sort out my last lesson: year 10.
My mood had become exceedingly giggly and exciteable by the afternoon, so I had to calm myself down to go into the class. It went quite well, and they seemed to be on target for most of the time. I do like that class.
Anyway, after the meeting I went to the pub with a couple of nice colleagues, which was a nice way to end an OK day. Wonder what tomorrow holds...
The meeting rounded off what had been a satisfactory day. Year 9 were not too bad, I showed them a short video I had found that they really really enjoyed, and although my organisation was a little screwy, the lesson wasn't too bad - although it fell apart at the end. A was ejected almost immediately, big surprise.
Year 11 were also quite responsive after; K even wrote in his book. I nearly fell off my chair! We listened to The Gold Cadillac as recorded by my lovely colleague. Her 'American' accent was pretty good but I couldn't help but laugh at her rendition of the line "Whatcha talkin' 'bout?"
I had two frees next, so spent them, as always, trying to mark and sort out my last lesson: year 10.
My mood had become exceedingly giggly and exciteable by the afternoon, so I had to calm myself down to go into the class. It went quite well, and they seemed to be on target for most of the time. I do like that class.
Anyway, after the meeting I went to the pub with a couple of nice colleagues, which was a nice way to end an OK day. Wonder what tomorrow holds...
Tuesday 19 January 2010
Day 82: Long Day
Yup, after two weeks of half timetable and snow days, the first day with four periods did truly suck.
Not much to say, it was a looong day.
Year 11 were good, enough.
Year 9 were HORRIBLE. AWFUL AWFUL AWFUL. A was a little psychopath.
Year 10 were as charming as ever.
Year 8 were... actually not bad. I couldn't believe it.
My day was made worse by the fact that I didn't prepare last night, so it was all a little slapdash, which showed. Especially with year 9.
Onwards and upwards - must try harder, tomorrow.
Not much to say, it was a looong day.
Year 11 were good, enough.
Year 9 were HORRIBLE. AWFUL AWFUL AWFUL. A was a little psychopath.
Year 10 were as charming as ever.
Year 8 were... actually not bad. I couldn't believe it.
My day was made worse by the fact that I didn't prepare last night, so it was all a little slapdash, which showed. Especially with year 9.
Onwards and upwards - must try harder, tomorrow.
Monday 18 January 2010
Day 81: The (Year 11) Boys are Back in Town
I suppose I should be used to the Monday morning dread by now. It was exacerbated by my apprehension about coming face to face with year 11, and handing back their mocks.
I finished marking the last couple this morning, and was delighted to see that two of the boys had come out with C grades. What a miracle! I should have guessed that the marks were a little too good to be true, because as I was showing off my colour-coded spreadsheet to my mentor he pointed out that the maths was wrong. NO! How could excel fail me so? With a bit of tweaking, I found that the Cs were in fact Es. Not so impressive.
The day itself started with year 7. I was quite looking forward to the lesson, although I got an unexpected new student (again!) who, as it turns out, is ex-transition. I should have checked my emails sooner because there was one from his transition teacher who recommended he sit with the other ex-transition kid in my class, but ah well. He seemed pleasant enough. We watched the (rather terrible) animated version of Romeo and Juliet and the kids wrote a summary. Or were supposed to anyway. It was a nice, easy lesson, and a good start to the week.
I had the next three lessons off, so spent them prepping and marking, and finally had a meeting with my mentor. He went through my marked mocks, and pointed out where I was a bit too generous. Awkward. We also talked about what I need to do with the year 11s over the next couple of weeks, as I'm not teaching the lit. scheme I want to give the guys as much practice as possible.
When they eventually turned up they were for the most part bouyant but receptive to the exercise - making targets for themselves based on their mocks. I genuinely like a lot of the boys, although some of the more difficult ones weren't in. K, however, was. He did no work during the mock, instead writing out the poems as the answer. I asked him gently and quietly if I could speak to him after the lesson. He was slumped over his desk, moaning that his side hurt.
"It'll only take a minute. You're not in trouble." I said.
I was pretty amazed that, although he tried to walk off, he did come back when I called him - a first. He even sat down and talked to me when I asked him if he didn't understand the exam or he just couldn't be bothered. He was honest: the latter. I wasn't sure what to say - I offered him help; he didn't want it. I suppose it was nice to have that interaction at last with him.
After school I had training with Teachy Firsties, and was amazed to see I'm the first one to sort out my second school placement. That's got to be a record. I suppose I'm especially excited about the placement because, not only is it at an Outstanding school - and I've never even seen one before - but, and more importantly, I get to miss the week before half term. Whoop!
I finished marking the last couple this morning, and was delighted to see that two of the boys had come out with C grades. What a miracle! I should have guessed that the marks were a little too good to be true, because as I was showing off my colour-coded spreadsheet to my mentor he pointed out that the maths was wrong. NO! How could excel fail me so? With a bit of tweaking, I found that the Cs were in fact Es. Not so impressive.
The day itself started with year 7. I was quite looking forward to the lesson, although I got an unexpected new student (again!) who, as it turns out, is ex-transition. I should have checked my emails sooner because there was one from his transition teacher who recommended he sit with the other ex-transition kid in my class, but ah well. He seemed pleasant enough. We watched the (rather terrible) animated version of Romeo and Juliet and the kids wrote a summary. Or were supposed to anyway. It was a nice, easy lesson, and a good start to the week.
I had the next three lessons off, so spent them prepping and marking, and finally had a meeting with my mentor. He went through my marked mocks, and pointed out where I was a bit too generous. Awkward. We also talked about what I need to do with the year 11s over the next couple of weeks, as I'm not teaching the lit. scheme I want to give the guys as much practice as possible.
When they eventually turned up they were for the most part bouyant but receptive to the exercise - making targets for themselves based on their mocks. I genuinely like a lot of the boys, although some of the more difficult ones weren't in. K, however, was. He did no work during the mock, instead writing out the poems as the answer. I asked him gently and quietly if I could speak to him after the lesson. He was slumped over his desk, moaning that his side hurt.
"It'll only take a minute. You're not in trouble." I said.
I was pretty amazed that, although he tried to walk off, he did come back when I called him - a first. He even sat down and talked to me when I asked him if he didn't understand the exam or he just couldn't be bothered. He was honest: the latter. I wasn't sure what to say - I offered him help; he didn't want it. I suppose it was nice to have that interaction at last with him.
After school I had training with Teachy Firsties, and was amazed to see I'm the first one to sort out my second school placement. That's got to be a record. I suppose I'm especially excited about the placement because, not only is it at an Outstanding school - and I've never even seen one before - but, and more importantly, I get to miss the week before half term. Whoop!
Thursday 14 January 2010
Days 78 - 80: "I want it to end with death."
It's Sunday night again and I've made it through the latter half of the week without writing my blog. The reasons are twofold.
One: I couldn't be bothered.
Two: I couldn't be bothered.
The week was punctuated midway by year 8 parents' evening. I for one was so incredibly nervous about it that I spent the hour before hand walking around in circles audibly moaning whilst trying to mark the kids' books in case any parents actually turned up to see me.
I was so wired that my colleague told me to chill out as it was obvious how nervous I was. I asked my mentor if he would sit with me, and he did. The reason for my nerves? That girl. The one with the phone call and the angry grandparent. I was so dreading coming face to face with that woman that it was sending me to distraction. I knuckled down in the end, and sat in the classroom next to my mentor, marking year 7 books to pass the time. Luckily, as soon as the first kid turned up so did my colleague with whom I share the class, and so I didn't need to see anyone alone. In the end I only spoke with 2 1/2 parents (the half being a child who turned up on her own.) Apparently the girl about whom I'd been so concerned did come to my door, but walked off without me noticing her. What an anticlimax.
Wednesday bled into Thursday, and I only had one lesson: period 5. I spent the day marking and doing various other administrative tasks, not least of all meeting with my tutor who talked me through the assignment I'd written before Christmas. I can't really remember what I wrote, although I knew it wasn't great, and so was relieved to see I'd passed, but disappointed to see how badly it had done. I shouldn't be surprised, as the attitude I've taken towards all the written assignments is that they're a waste of my time. Perhaps for the next one I'll do the required reading and send a first draft off to my tutor, so that I might stand a fighting chance of doing well.
Year 9 last period were pretty tricky. I was trying to explain stereotypes to them, but they just didn't get it ("...but it's true Miss!") Infuriating. I did show them a great video of a racist German pensioner which got them nicely riled up, especially when she started bad mouthing Turks, but they still didn't get the idea of representation. Oh well. Looks like a follow up will be required.
On Friday I only had one lesson - year 7. I decided to show them a bit of Shakespeare in Love, so that they could see what it looked like at the time, and then gave them the task of decorating my wall with posters. A few of them were confused and a few took full advantage of my vague instructions: one thing to remember is that nothing is ever as straightforward as you think it is. My classroom does now look nicely decorated, although when my colleague inspected the posters at close hand he pointed out that I perhaps should have read some of them before sticking them up ("One day Shakespeare lost his gift for writing.") Ooops.
As relieved as I was to finish such an easy week, my mind was already on the week ahead, when I'll be back to full timetable and the school will be full again when the year 10s and 11s return. I'm trying not to be negative, although I haven't been as successful as I'd hoped in marking year 11 mocks, and I have no idea what to do with them for the first lesson back.
All in all, I've had a pretty easy ride for the past two weeks, and I know it's going to suck. On the other hand, only three weeks' left of teaching then I'm going to visit the Outstanding school up the road for a week - and then it'll be half term, and I will be literally half way through the year. What a thought.
One: I couldn't be bothered.
Two: I couldn't be bothered.
The week was punctuated midway by year 8 parents' evening. I for one was so incredibly nervous about it that I spent the hour before hand walking around in circles audibly moaning whilst trying to mark the kids' books in case any parents actually turned up to see me.
I was so wired that my colleague told me to chill out as it was obvious how nervous I was. I asked my mentor if he would sit with me, and he did. The reason for my nerves? That girl. The one with the phone call and the angry grandparent. I was so dreading coming face to face with that woman that it was sending me to distraction. I knuckled down in the end, and sat in the classroom next to my mentor, marking year 7 books to pass the time. Luckily, as soon as the first kid turned up so did my colleague with whom I share the class, and so I didn't need to see anyone alone. In the end I only spoke with 2 1/2 parents (the half being a child who turned up on her own.) Apparently the girl about whom I'd been so concerned did come to my door, but walked off without me noticing her. What an anticlimax.
Wednesday bled into Thursday, and I only had one lesson: period 5. I spent the day marking and doing various other administrative tasks, not least of all meeting with my tutor who talked me through the assignment I'd written before Christmas. I can't really remember what I wrote, although I knew it wasn't great, and so was relieved to see I'd passed, but disappointed to see how badly it had done. I shouldn't be surprised, as the attitude I've taken towards all the written assignments is that they're a waste of my time. Perhaps for the next one I'll do the required reading and send a first draft off to my tutor, so that I might stand a fighting chance of doing well.
Year 9 last period were pretty tricky. I was trying to explain stereotypes to them, but they just didn't get it ("...but it's true Miss!") Infuriating. I did show them a great video of a racist German pensioner which got them nicely riled up, especially when she started bad mouthing Turks, but they still didn't get the idea of representation. Oh well. Looks like a follow up will be required.
On Friday I only had one lesson - year 7. I decided to show them a bit of Shakespeare in Love, so that they could see what it looked like at the time, and then gave them the task of decorating my wall with posters. A few of them were confused and a few took full advantage of my vague instructions: one thing to remember is that nothing is ever as straightforward as you think it is. My classroom does now look nicely decorated, although when my colleague inspected the posters at close hand he pointed out that I perhaps should have read some of them before sticking them up ("One day Shakespeare lost his gift for writing.") Ooops.
As relieved as I was to finish such an easy week, my mind was already on the week ahead, when I'll be back to full timetable and the school will be full again when the year 10s and 11s return. I'm trying not to be negative, although I haven't been as successful as I'd hoped in marking year 11 mocks, and I have no idea what to do with them for the first lesson back.
All in all, I've had a pretty easy ride for the past two weeks, and I know it's going to suck. On the other hand, only three weeks' left of teaching then I'm going to visit the Outstanding school up the road for a week - and then it'll be half term, and I will be literally half way through the year. What a thought.
Tuesday 12 January 2010
Day 77: Nightmare
There are only so many times I can say how tired I am before even I get bored of it, but that's basically all I can think about today. It was pretty exhausting, and not much fun.
Year 7 first thing were pretty good. The lesson was on sonnets, and I'd like to think most of them got it but I did trail off at the end. I'm still not getting the hang of the new schemes so it's been a bit trial and error so far.
I had two frees next, and again, not sure what I did during them, other than work myself into a panic about the last two lessons of the day - year 9 followed by year 8.
It was a bit of a disaster, as it turns out. Year 9 were utterly abysmal, and I suppose my fatigue got the better of me. I didn't keep control, and despite all the good intentions I'd left the meeting the day before with, I just was too pooped to do what I was supposed to. I was crabby and terrible, and even showing them Nightmare on Elm Street couldn't get them to concentrate. A colleague, who taught them after me today in period 5, told me he uses charm to get them to behave. I suppose I sway the other way too easily.
I was so tired by the end of that lesson, I couldn't believe they were being followed up by my worst group. That lesson was even worse - the kids were shitty enough, there were technical difficulties and the lesson dissolved into shit. I was so fed up by the end, I was rather pleased when some colleagues (who I'd rebuffed the day before) asked me to the pub.
I went home, exhausted but relaxed, and despite chilling out all evening with my flatmates, I am not really ready for tomorrow. Only two lessons, so I'll be finished for the day by break, but I'm just so tired. Does it get easier?
Year 7 first thing were pretty good. The lesson was on sonnets, and I'd like to think most of them got it but I did trail off at the end. I'm still not getting the hang of the new schemes so it's been a bit trial and error so far.
I had two frees next, and again, not sure what I did during them, other than work myself into a panic about the last two lessons of the day - year 9 followed by year 8.
It was a bit of a disaster, as it turns out. Year 9 were utterly abysmal, and I suppose my fatigue got the better of me. I didn't keep control, and despite all the good intentions I'd left the meeting the day before with, I just was too pooped to do what I was supposed to. I was crabby and terrible, and even showing them Nightmare on Elm Street couldn't get them to concentrate. A colleague, who taught them after me today in period 5, told me he uses charm to get them to behave. I suppose I sway the other way too easily.
I was so tired by the end of that lesson, I couldn't believe they were being followed up by my worst group. That lesson was even worse - the kids were shitty enough, there were technical difficulties and the lesson dissolved into shit. I was so fed up by the end, I was rather pleased when some colleagues (who I'd rebuffed the day before) asked me to the pub.
I went home, exhausted but relaxed, and despite chilling out all evening with my flatmates, I am not really ready for tomorrow. Only two lessons, so I'll be finished for the day by break, but I'm just so tired. Does it get easier?
Day 76: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
I don't like Mondays. Especially when I spent the entire weekend writing up my second assignment for Teachy Firsty, and stayed up until half 2 to complete it. It was not good. Luckily I did get it done, and managed to get into work early to prep the lessons.
Unfortunately the schemes for this term have been created on software that I can't access from home, and so can't really prepare the night before, to which I'm accustomed, unless I stay at school. So I had to get in early to sort them out, which isn't ideal. The schemes are mainly done, but if I am to adapt any - and some require it, especially for my class - then I need to put more than 30 minutes into it.
So I knew I'd be feeling a little worn out with three lessons, which is the most I've had since Christmas, but damn - it was tough. First lesson of the day was year 8, and that familiar taste of dread started building up from staff briefing, when I tried in vain to stay in the staff room chair for as long as possible after. I sorted out the lesson, and prepared myself. They actually weren't that bad. They weren't great, but they weren't terrible either. We got some work done, even though it was a lesson I'd thrown together myself, and I was rather pleased with the outcome.
After break I had year 7, and the lesson was.. ok. A little dry at times, because the tasks I'd asked them to do wasn't terribly well explained (mea culpa) but they all had a go and it was ok. I can't remember much else.
Finally after lunch were year 9. I was relieved to have my colleague in with me, mainly because I relied on his own subject knowledge heavily throughout the lesson. We were talking about camera shots, and I was a little disappointed to see that only one of them was really paying attention. I enjoyed the lesson's topic, at least, especially a creepy short film I got to show them, which was a Ring-esque horror. A was up to his little tricks again, I think he's gotten worse since Christmas, which is a shame.
I had last lesson off, and tried to sort myself out, to no avail. I'm drowning under a pile of paperwork and marking, which is keeping me up at night, so it's doubly frustrating that when I have the opportunity to do it I seem to find some other thing to distract me.
After school finished we had our Teachy Firsty meeting. It was a discipline surgery thing, with the formidible head of discipline, or whatever her title is, talking us through our classes and students we had trouble with. It was a bit of a bitch fest, but I managed to get some advice on a few kids, and was presented with the no-brainer of following up all problems and calling home. Which I'm still struggling to do (I suppose after *that* phonecall I'm a little reticent about calling anyone.)
I felt really bad when I left the meeting to grab my diary and was invited for a drink by a colleague. I brusquely barked "Can't. Busy." as I bounded up the stairs, forgetting it was her birthday. Ooops.
After the meeting I grabbed my stuff and decided to mark at home, which obviously didn't happen. I didn't even get an early night. What am I playing at?
Unfortunately the schemes for this term have been created on software that I can't access from home, and so can't really prepare the night before, to which I'm accustomed, unless I stay at school. So I had to get in early to sort them out, which isn't ideal. The schemes are mainly done, but if I am to adapt any - and some require it, especially for my class - then I need to put more than 30 minutes into it.
So I knew I'd be feeling a little worn out with three lessons, which is the most I've had since Christmas, but damn - it was tough. First lesson of the day was year 8, and that familiar taste of dread started building up from staff briefing, when I tried in vain to stay in the staff room chair for as long as possible after. I sorted out the lesson, and prepared myself. They actually weren't that bad. They weren't great, but they weren't terrible either. We got some work done, even though it was a lesson I'd thrown together myself, and I was rather pleased with the outcome.
After break I had year 7, and the lesson was.. ok. A little dry at times, because the tasks I'd asked them to do wasn't terribly well explained (mea culpa) but they all had a go and it was ok. I can't remember much else.
Finally after lunch were year 9. I was relieved to have my colleague in with me, mainly because I relied on his own subject knowledge heavily throughout the lesson. We were talking about camera shots, and I was a little disappointed to see that only one of them was really paying attention. I enjoyed the lesson's topic, at least, especially a creepy short film I got to show them, which was a Ring-esque horror. A was up to his little tricks again, I think he's gotten worse since Christmas, which is a shame.
I had last lesson off, and tried to sort myself out, to no avail. I'm drowning under a pile of paperwork and marking, which is keeping me up at night, so it's doubly frustrating that when I have the opportunity to do it I seem to find some other thing to distract me.
After school finished we had our Teachy Firsty meeting. It was a discipline surgery thing, with the formidible head of discipline, or whatever her title is, talking us through our classes and students we had trouble with. It was a bit of a bitch fest, but I managed to get some advice on a few kids, and was presented with the no-brainer of following up all problems and calling home. Which I'm still struggling to do (I suppose after *that* phonecall I'm a little reticent about calling anyone.)
I felt really bad when I left the meeting to grab my diary and was invited for a drink by a colleague. I brusquely barked "Can't. Busy." as I bounded up the stairs, forgetting it was her birthday. Ooops.
After the meeting I grabbed my stuff and decided to mark at home, which obviously didn't happen. I didn't even get an early night. What am I playing at?
Days 73-75: SNOW DAYS
So... to recap: Tuesday night I and probably all of my colleagues went to bed - late - with the assumption that we'd get the hallowed text the next morning to let us know that there would be no school. After all, there was hardly any snow on the last day of term - and it was properly snowing this time. I had been regularly texting random people out of sheer excitement as it got heavier.
So, six thirty in the morning, I'm woken by my alarm. I reach for my mobile and, there it is: a text. I open it, half asleep but safe in the knowledge that soon I would be going back to the land of nod. All I need is those three words: School. Is. Closed. I open the message, and find:
"School is open. Boo."
I have never felt so disappointed in my whole life. I can't describe it. I dragged myself, almost literally screaming, into school. The picturesque winter wonderland that greeted me did little to ease my malaise. What a bummer.
Over our 8am cigarettes my colleagues and I mused over the irony that, as predicted before as an impossibility, we were in fact stood, smoking in the snow. I wondered aloud how many kids would actually turn up.
As it happened, not a lot. I had five turn up to my year 9 class. We watched Holes. Luckily, that was all I was going to "teach" that day (the class, not watching the film.) We eagerly checked our emails throughout the morning, waiting to hear if we'd be sent home. Luckily, that email came to say that the school would shut at lunchtime. Another email said that anyone not teaching in period three (right before lunch) could leave at break if they had a long way to drive. This did not impress my colleague, who was the only person teaching in the department then. I stayed out of solidarity, and then went to the pub. What a day.
Having gone from abject misery in the morning to absolute euphoria later when, after a few more emails and texts, we were granted both Thursday AND Friday off too.
The perfect end to the easiest week of teaching, ever.
So, six thirty in the morning, I'm woken by my alarm. I reach for my mobile and, there it is: a text. I open it, half asleep but safe in the knowledge that soon I would be going back to the land of nod. All I need is those three words: School. Is. Closed. I open the message, and find:
"School is open. Boo."
I have never felt so disappointed in my whole life. I can't describe it. I dragged myself, almost literally screaming, into school. The picturesque winter wonderland that greeted me did little to ease my malaise. What a bummer.
Over our 8am cigarettes my colleagues and I mused over the irony that, as predicted before as an impossibility, we were in fact stood, smoking in the snow. I wondered aloud how many kids would actually turn up.
As it happened, not a lot. I had five turn up to my year 9 class. We watched Holes. Luckily, that was all I was going to "teach" that day (the class, not watching the film.) We eagerly checked our emails throughout the morning, waiting to hear if we'd be sent home. Luckily, that email came to say that the school would shut at lunchtime. Another email said that anyone not teaching in period three (right before lunch) could leave at break if they had a long way to drive. This did not impress my colleague, who was the only person teaching in the department then. I stayed out of solidarity, and then went to the pub. What a day.
Having gone from abject misery in the morning to absolute euphoria later when, after a few more emails and texts, we were granted both Thursday AND Friday off too.
The perfect end to the easiest week of teaching, ever.
Tuesday 5 January 2010
Day 72: Rapid Response
Witnessing a road traffic accident was not what I was expecting from my day, and so it brought a bit of a shock to my morning cigarette. Myself and three colleagues were stood around the bin smoking when a woman stepped out from between two cars and was clipped by another, despite the driver making an emergency stop. The poor woman is actually a member of staff at the school, and although she was rather dazed, she was able to stand (with her husband propping her up) and was half carried to the caretaker's house until the ambulance came. I was most impressed by my colleagues' quick thinking and team work, as one called the ambulance, another directed traffic and the third assisted the woman. I did little to contribute, although I was on my way to a physio appointment so had to leave. I was disappointed to learn that I missed out on seeing some rather attractive policeman as well.
After my physio I returned to school earlier than expected, and set about prepping for my year 9 lesson. My nervous feeling returned before the lesson and the kids were just as shitty as expected. A was an absolute nightmare, disrupting the lesson then refusing to leave. Ironically, he did walk out 5 minutes before the end, telling me he had a meeting with the head of expulsion, or whatever her title is. As it turned out, he was lying.
I was then free until last lesson, when I was going to have year 8. Argh! I became even more nervous, especially as I wasn't sure how the new scheme was going to work out, so my lovely colleague offered to stay with me throughout the lesson. We ended up team teaching, which was ok, although the kids, and one in particular, were still awful with two of us in there. I was quite touched to see one of the boys trying really hard - he wanted to read out loud and spent ages practicing his paragraph to himself, asking my colleague for help with pronunciation. It's nice when you see that side of them.
Day over, I was relieved to find out that the PGCE student in the department is going to take my year 9 lesson tomorrow, meaning that I don't have to teach it. What's more, the kids were sent home with a letter warning them that there may be no school at all tomorrow due to the snow and, as it's coming down quite heavily now, I've decided to stay up late on the off chance that the forecasts were right and we don't have to go in. Fingers crossed.
After my physio I returned to school earlier than expected, and set about prepping for my year 9 lesson. My nervous feeling returned before the lesson and the kids were just as shitty as expected. A was an absolute nightmare, disrupting the lesson then refusing to leave. Ironically, he did walk out 5 minutes before the end, telling me he had a meeting with the head of expulsion, or whatever her title is. As it turned out, he was lying.
I was then free until last lesson, when I was going to have year 8. Argh! I became even more nervous, especially as I wasn't sure how the new scheme was going to work out, so my lovely colleague offered to stay with me throughout the lesson. We ended up team teaching, which was ok, although the kids, and one in particular, were still awful with two of us in there. I was quite touched to see one of the boys trying really hard - he wanted to read out loud and spent ages practicing his paragraph to himself, asking my colleague for help with pronunciation. It's nice when you see that side of them.
Day over, I was relieved to find out that the PGCE student in the department is going to take my year 9 lesson tomorrow, meaning that I don't have to teach it. What's more, the kids were sent home with a letter warning them that there may be no school at all tomorrow due to the snow and, as it's coming down quite heavily now, I've decided to stay up late on the off chance that the forecasts were right and we don't have to go in. Fingers crossed.
Monday 4 January 2010
Day 71: Easy does it
After a terrible night's sleep, my alarm clock was not my friend this morning. My brand-spanking-new alarm clock that is supposed to wake me up gently with artificial sunlight did do the trick, although the discordant beeping cut through my snoozing like a rusty hacksaw.
It's weird coming back in after two weeks, but my desk and room were just as I'd left them, so I blundered on with prepping for my first and only lesson of the day - year 7. I wavered between teaching the new scheme, painstakingly put together by my colleague, or taking the easy route and just showing the end of the Beowulf film started at the end of last term. Shakespeare, or rather, his introduction, won out.
I went down to briefing with my second cup of (black) coffee for the morning, and was joined by the majority of the staff, including some I'd never seen before, for our acting head's "special announcement". There was a tense sense of anticipation fizzing in the room, we'd all received the same email, and the acting head eventually read out a prepared statement from the headteacher who stated that he would not be returning to his post. I won't elaborate on the reasons for his premature departure, but it came as little surprise to the speculating staff.
First lesson was a bit of a let down, to be honest. I was determined to be exciting and peppy for Shakespeare - I am a fan, after all. However, the lesson was a little flat, and I was annoyed that, as I'd not been able to access the scheme from home, I hadn't taken the time to add any sort of video clip or music that I would normally. The lesson also ran a little short, so I let them talk amongst themselves at the end for 5 minutes. We ended up watching some awful trailer for something called "Killer Bean" that one of the girls was gassing about.
As I let them out I felt a little defeated, the sense of which was exacerbated when a colleague talked about how engaged his group had been on the same subject, as they'd discussed all sorts of exciting contextual facts ("They throw poo out their windows, Sir") which I neglected to share with my group. Oh well.
The rest of the day was rather disappointing. Far be it from be to begrudge a school free from year 10s and 11s, but I wasn't anywhere near as productive as I would have liked. I did manage to make a To Do list which is rather intimidating, so much so that I failed to complete a single task on it in my 4 free periods. Better luck next time. I've also realised that my written assignment is due in a week, and will be spending all weekend working on that one. D'oh!
I took a stack of books home with me, as well as my year 8 APPs which they'd been moaning so much at me to mark. Little blighters. At 9.45pm I've so far failed to complete any which doesn't bode well for my early night.
There's always tomorrow, I suppose.
It's weird coming back in after two weeks, but my desk and room were just as I'd left them, so I blundered on with prepping for my first and only lesson of the day - year 7. I wavered between teaching the new scheme, painstakingly put together by my colleague, or taking the easy route and just showing the end of the Beowulf film started at the end of last term. Shakespeare, or rather, his introduction, won out.
I went down to briefing with my second cup of (black) coffee for the morning, and was joined by the majority of the staff, including some I'd never seen before, for our acting head's "special announcement". There was a tense sense of anticipation fizzing in the room, we'd all received the same email, and the acting head eventually read out a prepared statement from the headteacher who stated that he would not be returning to his post. I won't elaborate on the reasons for his premature departure, but it came as little surprise to the speculating staff.
First lesson was a bit of a let down, to be honest. I was determined to be exciting and peppy for Shakespeare - I am a fan, after all. However, the lesson was a little flat, and I was annoyed that, as I'd not been able to access the scheme from home, I hadn't taken the time to add any sort of video clip or music that I would normally. The lesson also ran a little short, so I let them talk amongst themselves at the end for 5 minutes. We ended up watching some awful trailer for something called "Killer Bean" that one of the girls was gassing about.
As I let them out I felt a little defeated, the sense of which was exacerbated when a colleague talked about how engaged his group had been on the same subject, as they'd discussed all sorts of exciting contextual facts ("They throw poo out their windows, Sir") which I neglected to share with my group. Oh well.
The rest of the day was rather disappointing. Far be it from be to begrudge a school free from year 10s and 11s, but I wasn't anywhere near as productive as I would have liked. I did manage to make a To Do list which is rather intimidating, so much so that I failed to complete a single task on it in my 4 free periods. Better luck next time. I've also realised that my written assignment is due in a week, and will be spending all weekend working on that one. D'oh!
I took a stack of books home with me, as well as my year 8 APPs which they'd been moaning so much at me to mark. Little blighters. At 9.45pm I've so far failed to complete any which doesn't bode well for my early night.
There's always tomorrow, I suppose.
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