My parents were boarding the ferry. I was skeptical: it was full of water. Whether or not it would sail was not my chief concern, rather I was concerned about how I would fit on there with all the water. I followed my parents but stopped when they walked into the the choppy blue liquid. I turned and ran, up to walkway above. It was only then that I realised they must have drowned. I panicked, racked with guilt, then I woke up.
I felt that sweet, lazy Saturday-morning inertia that comes from waking naturally, then rolled over and saw the time. 6 seconds later, I realised it wasn't Saturday.
My alarm clock went off at 6am. At 10.15am, I woke up.
I have never felt panic like it. I jumped out of bed, and dithered as to whether or not I should even shower. The expletives emanating from my mouth put to an end my giving up swearing for Lent. I decided to shower, realising that my year 11 lesson was occurring as I did so. When I returned to my room, dressed frantically, and threw my things together I called the lovely man at school who is in charge of cover and such like. "I'm so sorry, my alarm clock didn't go off - I'm on my way in now." He chuckled that he hadn't been told I wasn't there, and that set fresh panic in my mind as to whether or not anyone had noticed. What on earth were my students going to be doing?
I left the house and was lucky to see a bus approaching. I decided to stay on an extra stop that went past the school, to ensure I didn't have to walk through the main gates. I caught sight of my colleague's red jacket as I made my way towards the school; he was smoking outside. I started to cry as I explained what had happened, and he calmed me down and talked me through what I should do. I wasn't convinced; the evening before I had decided to leave lesson prep to the morning, and would get in early to sort it out for the heaviest day of the week. Oh, the irony.
I went up to the department and greeted the new PGCE student, who was entirely sympathetic, and then steeled myself and walked into my classroom. "Hello," I said to the class. They hardly acknowledged me. Were they offended? Thankfully, the TA had gotten them a film to watch, and they were sat engrossed in a pretty terrible CGI version of Little Red Riding Hood (their choice.) The TA was sympathetic, and told me I could prepare for my next lesson (year 9, who she also assisted) as she would be happy to dismiss the year 11s. I felt so incredibly guilty, but did as she suggested and felt a lot happier for it.
The rest of the day was a little stressful blur. Year 9 were feistier than normal ("Miss, do you have a boyfriend?"
"Yes."
"Oh that's a shame, because I was going to ask you out." *wink*
"Oh M, that's so... inappropriate.")
but I survived the lesson, and year 10, and then the more horrible than usual year 8s. I am making no progress with that group, whatsoever.
I left around five, deciding that I would do more work at home (ha!) but so far that has not been the case.
I've also set 2 alarms for the morning.
Wednesday 24 February 2010
Tuesday 23 February 2010
Day 101: Back to School
Lordy, two weeks is a long time. And 3 hours' sleep is not. I got to school feeling tired and cranky after a nice spent tossing and turning because I couldn't sleep. I'm getting used to that nervous, insomniac night before the start of a new term. Only this time there were no cigarettes (success!)
At least I knew it would be an easy day. I started off with a bit of embarrassment, mainly in the form of my colleague ribbing me for my drunken behaviour at his birthday party during half term. This was exacerbated when the rather sweet head of citizenship and community niceness called me out in the staff briefing to thank me for securing the autograph of our school's matriarch and I waved a little too eagerly, causing a ripple of giggles amongst my colleagues.
Year 7 were actually really fun, and they did a great lesson, drawing pictures that were being described by their partners. I'm trying my hardest to be as nice as pie to them, because I feel like our relationship has soured a bit. I did get on quite well for the most part, so hopefully it'll continue to get better. I even took time to congratulate the difficult boy on his sporting achievement.
I had the rest of the day free until last lesson, so spent it marking and putting together a lesson for my year 11s. They were utterly delightful, even though the lesson was a tad ham-fisted, and even K was working and joining in. I love that group. I told them I would be starting a booster session after school I'd like them to go to, although I doubt many will. I was shocked earlier that morning to hear one of them, J, has been put in our intervention project with a group of other ne'erdowell year 11s. I read through his SIMS behaviour management and was surprised by some of the things he'd done (my favourite being: "refused to come into the classroom and called me fucking dickhead") as, although he could sometimes be difficult, he was normally quite good with me. That's always the worst thing to say, I know, but I was just surprised.
So ended the first day back. Only 5 weeks to go till Easter.
At least I knew it would be an easy day. I started off with a bit of embarrassment, mainly in the form of my colleague ribbing me for my drunken behaviour at his birthday party during half term. This was exacerbated when the rather sweet head of citizenship and community niceness called me out in the staff briefing to thank me for securing the autograph of our school's matriarch and I waved a little too eagerly, causing a ripple of giggles amongst my colleagues.
Year 7 were actually really fun, and they did a great lesson, drawing pictures that were being described by their partners. I'm trying my hardest to be as nice as pie to them, because I feel like our relationship has soured a bit. I did get on quite well for the most part, so hopefully it'll continue to get better. I even took time to congratulate the difficult boy on his sporting achievement.
I had the rest of the day free until last lesson, so spent it marking and putting together a lesson for my year 11s. They were utterly delightful, even though the lesson was a tad ham-fisted, and even K was working and joining in. I love that group. I told them I would be starting a booster session after school I'd like them to go to, although I doubt many will. I was shocked earlier that morning to hear one of them, J, has been put in our intervention project with a group of other ne'erdowell year 11s. I read through his SIMS behaviour management and was surprised by some of the things he'd done (my favourite being: "refused to come into the classroom and called me fucking dickhead") as, although he could sometimes be difficult, he was normally quite good with me. That's always the worst thing to say, I know, but I was just surprised.
So ended the first day back. Only 5 weeks to go till Easter.
Saturday 13 February 2010
Day 100: Half Way There
It's rather bittersweet that I'm writing this at the very end of half term. On the one hand, I'm exactly half way through the year; on the other hand, I've got to be in 6 hours and can't sleep.
So, yes. 100 days. I can't quite believe it myself. It's amazing to think of how far I and my fellow Teachy Firsties have come - and yet I don't like the idea of having to go through it all again. I know it's going to be easier than the first three half terms, but at the same time it's going to be exhausting.
After being away from the school for two whole weeks, I'm pretty nervous about going back tomorrow, so am writing this now because I can't sleep. I suppose I'll go back to the last day of term.
After meeting my colleagues for breakfast (they had inset so were treating themselves to a fry up) I ran to The Outstanding School a little late but excited about what I knew was coming that day. That's right - there were serenades a plenty!
In the three lessons I observed, I saw no less than 6 separate serenades, as well as hearing several more from neighboring classrooms, when the melodies floated in through the Victorian walls, to many a student's amusement. It was a lovely tradition that could never in a million years translate to our kids and our school, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.
To be honest, after a week of observations and a nerve-wracking lesson, I was pretty exhausted by the Friday, and so politely sat in the corner of each classroom, diligently taking notes and listening in.
One class which astounded me the most was a year 7 group, where the students had to plan and perform oral stories based around Beowulf. Despite the three serenades interrupting ("OK, I'm going to give you ten seconds to talk about that, then ten seconds to calm down, then we're going to continue...") I saw about 8 students perform, and the first one BLEW MY MIND. The boy spoke for no less than three minutes, in VERSE. I couldn't believe it. He reeled it off like some sort of robot, and I had to keep propping my jaw up. It was incredible.
The rest of the day was nice (much like the rest of the week) and I ended it watching a year 11 drama class who were very lively but fun, and I sat watching a ramshackle rendition of Abigail's Party for a while. I was sad to leave, in a way, because the staff were so lovely, but I missed my school and my colleagues and, more than I expected, my kids. As it happened, I ran to the pub and joined my colleague in a rather long evening, but it was nice seeing them and catching up over a bit of karaoke.
I'm a little sad at how quickly half term flew by, especially as I didn't get all the marking done that I needed to but I did get to catch up with my lovely friends and saw my family too. I suppose I should go to bed now - school day starts in 5 1/2 hours. Ouch.
So, yes. 100 days. I can't quite believe it myself. It's amazing to think of how far I and my fellow Teachy Firsties have come - and yet I don't like the idea of having to go through it all again. I know it's going to be easier than the first three half terms, but at the same time it's going to be exhausting.
After being away from the school for two whole weeks, I'm pretty nervous about going back tomorrow, so am writing this now because I can't sleep. I suppose I'll go back to the last day of term.
After meeting my colleagues for breakfast (they had inset so were treating themselves to a fry up) I ran to The Outstanding School a little late but excited about what I knew was coming that day. That's right - there were serenades a plenty!
In the three lessons I observed, I saw no less than 6 separate serenades, as well as hearing several more from neighboring classrooms, when the melodies floated in through the Victorian walls, to many a student's amusement. It was a lovely tradition that could never in a million years translate to our kids and our school, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.
To be honest, after a week of observations and a nerve-wracking lesson, I was pretty exhausted by the Friday, and so politely sat in the corner of each classroom, diligently taking notes and listening in.
One class which astounded me the most was a year 7 group, where the students had to plan and perform oral stories based around Beowulf. Despite the three serenades interrupting ("OK, I'm going to give you ten seconds to talk about that, then ten seconds to calm down, then we're going to continue...") I saw about 8 students perform, and the first one BLEW MY MIND. The boy spoke for no less than three minutes, in VERSE. I couldn't believe it. He reeled it off like some sort of robot, and I had to keep propping my jaw up. It was incredible.
The rest of the day was nice (much like the rest of the week) and I ended it watching a year 11 drama class who were very lively but fun, and I sat watching a ramshackle rendition of Abigail's Party for a while. I was sad to leave, in a way, because the staff were so lovely, but I missed my school and my colleagues and, more than I expected, my kids. As it happened, I ran to the pub and joined my colleague in a rather long evening, but it was nice seeing them and catching up over a bit of karaoke.
I'm a little sad at how quickly half term flew by, especially as I didn't get all the marking done that I needed to but I did get to catch up with my lovely friends and saw my family too. I suppose I should go to bed now - school day starts in 5 1/2 hours. Ouch.
Thursday 11 February 2010
Days 98-99: Nice
Wednesday went past pretty quickly. I had lots of observations today, which were all pretty interesting, and it was nice to see some active learning in the year 8 lesson in the morning (an activity I might try myself too.)
I was mortified that I nearly fell asleep in one of the lessons, because I just feel so exhausted. I suppose coming to the end of half term and being utterly ground down has finally caught up with me, and being in such a relaxed environment meant that my body is switching off.
After school I, once again, skipped back to my school, although this time for year 11 parents' evening. As it turned out, none of my kids turned up. I did therefore have time to sort out a few things, including cover, although I was disappointed to miss K and his sister. I did actually bump into them as we left the building, but never mind. I ended the day the only way I know how: in the pub. This would turn out to be a mistake, but at the time I just wanted to catch up with my colleagues, and it was nice to hang out with some of the lovely Teachy Firsties in my school.
On Thursday, as I sat on the slowest bus known to man, crawling through the rush hour traffic on my way to The Outstanding School, I passed my school and felt a pang. Not from the ulcer which has surely developed from the stress of oversleeping and being late, or the headache from the midweek drink-induced hangover, but from seeing dozens of 'my' kids dragging themselves through the school gates. I actually missed them.
Of course, this could have been because I was going to teach a lesson today and I was dreading it, or because observing three lessons a day, no matter how relaxing, is actually quite dull. It reminded me of the feeling I had when we took the year 11s to see An Inspector Calls, and they were so well behaved and gawky I felt rather proud of them.
I shook this feeling off and returned to my bacon sandwich, willing the bus to hurry the hell up as I was already late, and eventually got in, 15 minutes later than planned. I panicked immediately when I made my way to the HOD's form room and saw they weren't there, and realised that I had less than two hours to prepare for the lesson I would be teaching and had no Internet access. It was OK though; I sat in the staff room on my laptop which I had cleverly brought with me and made a little power point and decided to go with my original idea for the lesson - relating the Lord of the Flies to The Bacchae. Eventually the HOD turned up, and after embarrassingly admitting that I wasn't ready to teach it so I'd be missing my first observation, then asking his advice when he had a lesson, I set to work on finishing it off.
The time flew by, and he came to collect me after break to take me off to his class. I started doing that infuriating thing I do when I'm nervous: over thinking. I questioned him on how I should present the questions to the group, and he politely advised me, although I felt he must have been growing tired of me by now. We came into the classroom and the kids all looked up expectantly. He set up the computer, did the register, then introduced me.
And off I went. I was so incredibly nervous, my voice was jumpy to begin with, and I set them the tasks awkwardly and gave them a time limit. Luckily they all got on with it and I went around asking them what they thought. Despite my admittedly confusing instructions they all seemed to grasp what I wanted them to do, and thankfully were doing it! I warmed up a bit, then had a rather stilted feedback session where I prodded them with extra questions, which at times were a tad embarrassing, but the kids seemed to humour me.
I launched into the second part of the lesson - The Bacchae, and it seemed to go down OK. The kids read through the scene I gave them and then I asked them some more slightly awkwardly put questions about it. Some of them seemed to get where I was coming from, and with 15 minutes to spare I set them the task of staging the death of Simon from the book. I'm not sure why... One group even agreed to perform it, although it was a little awkward, and I was thankful that they did.
The lesson was over pretty soon (1 hour 20 mins lasts a lot less than I thought it would) and I was treated to lunch by the HOD. We sat with a member of SLT who asked me how I was getting on. I said the school and the staff were really nice.
"NICE? Surely you can do better than that?"
"Er, OK... the school is amazing and the staff are wonderful."
What a strange man.
After the stress of teaching faded, I felt much better, and was able to relax for the afternoon, before watching a Latin lesson in the last period. Although it was a little lecture-y, it was actually a fantastic lesson and I really enjoyed it. It was also nice to see that there were some naughtier kids in the school (names were written on the board and everything!)
I ended up leaving pretty early, without really saying goodbye, because I was so exhausted. I'm looking forward to half term more than I can say, although really this week has been a real treat. I must remember to buy a card and chocolates for the lovely staff though.
I was mortified that I nearly fell asleep in one of the lessons, because I just feel so exhausted. I suppose coming to the end of half term and being utterly ground down has finally caught up with me, and being in such a relaxed environment meant that my body is switching off.
After school I, once again, skipped back to my school, although this time for year 11 parents' evening. As it turned out, none of my kids turned up. I did therefore have time to sort out a few things, including cover, although I was disappointed to miss K and his sister. I did actually bump into them as we left the building, but never mind. I ended the day the only way I know how: in the pub. This would turn out to be a mistake, but at the time I just wanted to catch up with my colleagues, and it was nice to hang out with some of the lovely Teachy Firsties in my school.
On Thursday, as I sat on the slowest bus known to man, crawling through the rush hour traffic on my way to The Outstanding School, I passed my school and felt a pang. Not from the ulcer which has surely developed from the stress of oversleeping and being late, or the headache from the midweek drink-induced hangover, but from seeing dozens of 'my' kids dragging themselves through the school gates. I actually missed them.
Of course, this could have been because I was going to teach a lesson today and I was dreading it, or because observing three lessons a day, no matter how relaxing, is actually quite dull. It reminded me of the feeling I had when we took the year 11s to see An Inspector Calls, and they were so well behaved and gawky I felt rather proud of them.
I shook this feeling off and returned to my bacon sandwich, willing the bus to hurry the hell up as I was already late, and eventually got in, 15 minutes later than planned. I panicked immediately when I made my way to the HOD's form room and saw they weren't there, and realised that I had less than two hours to prepare for the lesson I would be teaching and had no Internet access. It was OK though; I sat in the staff room on my laptop which I had cleverly brought with me and made a little power point and decided to go with my original idea for the lesson - relating the Lord of the Flies to The Bacchae. Eventually the HOD turned up, and after embarrassingly admitting that I wasn't ready to teach it so I'd be missing my first observation, then asking his advice when he had a lesson, I set to work on finishing it off.
The time flew by, and he came to collect me after break to take me off to his class. I started doing that infuriating thing I do when I'm nervous: over thinking. I questioned him on how I should present the questions to the group, and he politely advised me, although I felt he must have been growing tired of me by now. We came into the classroom and the kids all looked up expectantly. He set up the computer, did the register, then introduced me.
And off I went. I was so incredibly nervous, my voice was jumpy to begin with, and I set them the tasks awkwardly and gave them a time limit. Luckily they all got on with it and I went around asking them what they thought. Despite my admittedly confusing instructions they all seemed to grasp what I wanted them to do, and thankfully were doing it! I warmed up a bit, then had a rather stilted feedback session where I prodded them with extra questions, which at times were a tad embarrassing, but the kids seemed to humour me.
I launched into the second part of the lesson - The Bacchae, and it seemed to go down OK. The kids read through the scene I gave them and then I asked them some more slightly awkwardly put questions about it. Some of them seemed to get where I was coming from, and with 15 minutes to spare I set them the task of staging the death of Simon from the book. I'm not sure why... One group even agreed to perform it, although it was a little awkward, and I was thankful that they did.
The lesson was over pretty soon (1 hour 20 mins lasts a lot less than I thought it would) and I was treated to lunch by the HOD. We sat with a member of SLT who asked me how I was getting on. I said the school and the staff were really nice.
"NICE? Surely you can do better than that?"
"Er, OK... the school is amazing and the staff are wonderful."
What a strange man.
After the stress of teaching faded, I felt much better, and was able to relax for the afternoon, before watching a Latin lesson in the last period. Although it was a little lecture-y, it was actually a fantastic lesson and I really enjoyed it. It was also nice to see that there were some naughtier kids in the school (names were written on the board and everything!)
I ended up leaving pretty early, without really saying goodbye, because I was so exhausted. I'm looking forward to half term more than I can say, although really this week has been a real treat. I must remember to buy a card and chocolates for the lovely staff though.
Tuesday 9 February 2010
Day 97: Antithesis
Is the grass always greener on the other side? I've been wondering that myself, especially considering the questions I've been asked from staff and colleagues at both schools today.
It is not without a profound sense of irony that I sum up as follows: today, I was kindly given a lift in to work from a couple of colleagues at school. I had planned on taking the normal bus and timing it so I could stop off for a chat with my smoking colleagues at 8am. Thanks to the lift, I was able to do so, and was somewhat surprised upon reaching the school to see a row of twenty or so police officers in lurid fluorescent jackets flanking a shiny knife arch at the school gates. Some welcome.
"Oh, is this your first knife arch?" my colleague asked, dryly.
How long had I been gone?
Upon eventually reaching The Outstanding School, one member of the English department there commented that she'd seen our students "being frisked" on their way in.
"They're not that bad." I protested. Although she did also mention that she saw police there "all the time." Apparently at The Outstanding School, they only turn up when the students there get mugged occasionally.
"By our kids?" I joked. Not funny, really.
I was given the privilege of attending a whole school assembly, and witnessed an aspect of The Outstanding School's 'high achievement' ethos - The Jack Petchy Award. This is given to pupils who go out of their way to help the community, make a difference, or 'overcome adversity' to succeed academically. The (clearly prejudiced) cynic in me asked what sort of adversity these students have to overcome, especially compared to my kids, although I tried to suppress that thought.
I was also delighted to witness an annual tradition at the school - Valentine's Day serenades. There, in front of my eyes, was an actual real life barbershop quartet, in full costume (I thought they were butchers to begin with, and this was some sort of meat-related school competition. Not quite.) For the measly price of one pound, students could nominate someone that deserved a serenade, and they would be visited during lessons and, well, serenaded by the barber shop quartet (or a girl band equivalent - nail bar quartet?) I was flabbergasted. A lovely idea, but I wonder how it would go down with my kids?
Anyway, the rest of the day was pretty relaxing, just observing a few lessons, including Latin, which has inspired me to set up the Latin Club I'd been toying with. Or research it, at least. I also saw the year 10s I'll be team teaching on Thursday. The lesson was pretty interesting, although when I went to speak to a few students I felt a little intimidated and just listened to their ideas without being able to think of any questions to ask them, other than what they thought. I'll need to work on that by Thursday.
Reflections on the day... Well, the most striking is just how normal and nice the staff were. I'm not sure what I was expecting, presumably some sort of educational Stepford Wives setup, which is far from the truth. The only difference at this school is that *all* the kids are very clever. Of course, there are clever kids at my school, but just not as many in the same class.
I went back to my school after the day had finished to set the cover for tomorrow, which was irritating to say the least, but I did manage to tidy up my classroom a bit. It's parents' evening for year 11 tomorrow, so of course I'll be back again to sort it out. In the meantime, I was pleased to see some of the work my students managed.
I'm looking forward to the end of the week, although to be honest, I'm more so looking forward to half term, and sorting out my mounting piles of paperwork which are building up at an alarming rate.
It is not without a profound sense of irony that I sum up as follows: today, I was kindly given a lift in to work from a couple of colleagues at school. I had planned on taking the normal bus and timing it so I could stop off for a chat with my smoking colleagues at 8am. Thanks to the lift, I was able to do so, and was somewhat surprised upon reaching the school to see a row of twenty or so police officers in lurid fluorescent jackets flanking a shiny knife arch at the school gates. Some welcome.
"Oh, is this your first knife arch?" my colleague asked, dryly.
How long had I been gone?
Upon eventually reaching The Outstanding School, one member of the English department there commented that she'd seen our students "being frisked" on their way in.
"They're not that bad." I protested. Although she did also mention that she saw police there "all the time." Apparently at The Outstanding School, they only turn up when the students there get mugged occasionally.
"By our kids?" I joked. Not funny, really.
I was given the privilege of attending a whole school assembly, and witnessed an aspect of The Outstanding School's 'high achievement' ethos - The Jack Petchy Award. This is given to pupils who go out of their way to help the community, make a difference, or 'overcome adversity' to succeed academically. The (clearly prejudiced) cynic in me asked what sort of adversity these students have to overcome, especially compared to my kids, although I tried to suppress that thought.
I was also delighted to witness an annual tradition at the school - Valentine's Day serenades. There, in front of my eyes, was an actual real life barbershop quartet, in full costume (I thought they were butchers to begin with, and this was some sort of meat-related school competition. Not quite.) For the measly price of one pound, students could nominate someone that deserved a serenade, and they would be visited during lessons and, well, serenaded by the barber shop quartet (or a girl band equivalent - nail bar quartet?) I was flabbergasted. A lovely idea, but I wonder how it would go down with my kids?
Anyway, the rest of the day was pretty relaxing, just observing a few lessons, including Latin, which has inspired me to set up the Latin Club I'd been toying with. Or research it, at least. I also saw the year 10s I'll be team teaching on Thursday. The lesson was pretty interesting, although when I went to speak to a few students I felt a little intimidated and just listened to their ideas without being able to think of any questions to ask them, other than what they thought. I'll need to work on that by Thursday.
Reflections on the day... Well, the most striking is just how normal and nice the staff were. I'm not sure what I was expecting, presumably some sort of educational Stepford Wives setup, which is far from the truth. The only difference at this school is that *all* the kids are very clever. Of course, there are clever kids at my school, but just not as many in the same class.
I went back to my school after the day had finished to set the cover for tomorrow, which was irritating to say the least, but I did manage to tidy up my classroom a bit. It's parents' evening for year 11 tomorrow, so of course I'll be back again to sort it out. In the meantime, I was pleased to see some of the work my students managed.
I'm looking forward to the end of the week, although to be honest, I'm more so looking forward to half term, and sorting out my mounting piles of paperwork which are building up at an alarming rate.
Monday 8 February 2010
Day 96: So that's how the other half live...
I didn't sleep much last night. I've got to admit, I was pretty nervous about going to The Outstanding School. I impressed myself by getting out of bed on time and not only getting myself breakfast before I left, but also getting a sandwich made too.
I had to get to my school in the morning to sort out the day's cover that I'd neglected to do on Friday. I regretted this decision as soon as I got in, although I remember feeling like I wanted to die last week so really this was the best option.
I got it all done by 8am and ran out the door, stopping off to say hello to the friendly smokers on the way. It felt pretty weird walking away from school, especially when I had so many lessons to miss today, but I ploughed on. I ran into one of my more challenging year 8s, W, on the way.
"Where are you going Miss?"
"To The Outstanding School for the week. What happened to you? Why the crutches?"
"They're my friend's."
(No friend to be seen.)
"O....K... have a nice week."
I managed to get there just before half past, and signed myself in at reception and waited for the head of department to arrive. He bustled in merrily, and led me off to get a cup of coffee then made small talk whilst introducing me to the rest of the department, including the young male teacher I'd met on Wednesday, and who I'd be observing later. I followed the HoD to his form group, who were a largely bored selection of sixth formers. (No vertical tutoring here.)
I had first period free, so was set up in the English stock cupboard, searching through the department's resources and deciding what to steal (decided: everything.) I was then collected by the lovely HoD who took me up to his classroom to watch his year 12s. They were discussing poetry, and I found it rather interesting, although I'd been up for so long that I was feeling rather sleepy, embarrassingly enough.
After the brief break I watched the young teacher with his year 9s. They were writing poetry, and although a couple were a little chatty (one was even moved) the kids did work in silence. For a long time. I was so taken aback, I was practically speechless after the lesson. No answering back, no confusion or argument over the task, no teeth kissing. I had to stifle a laugh when the kids were doing their work and all I could think of was one of my own year 9s, when asked to write on her white board what genre of film Rambo was, wrote "ROCK".
Nothing like that here: the kids wrote some amazing poetry with relatively little guidance other than a few poems for inspiration.
I had a great chat with that teacher on the way to lunch, and was even treated to a free meal. The school itself is housed in an old building set around a relatively dilapidated quad, with myriad posters advertising the various societies run by the students (gardenology club caught my eye in particular) but the otherwise nondescript lunch hall was separate. As I walked around the school, I noticed something. Just being around the corridors was a weird experience in relation to my school. Of course, the kids were hardly from the Village of the Damned, but there was so much less aggression that you could feel it.
I had another free after lunch, so spent it shamelessly downloading their resources onto my USB.
After that, I was summoned to the last lesson - another group of year 9s, who were doing Richard III. The group was a bit livelier but were still willing to write paragraphs on verbal irony with five minutes to go. The teacher was really fun and spirited, and perfectly comfortable with the group, who were all on task, as far as I could tell.
I was fairly embarrassed that, as I was so tired, I didn't really get up and walk around, or talk to the kids, which I should have been doing. I hope they didn't think I was some sack of crap.
I ran off as soon as the bell went, so I could get back to my school to set my cover for the next day. Not ideal, but had to be done. Plus it means I get a slight lie-in tomorrow. I'm looking forward to the rest of the week, I really hope I'll learn a lot from them.
I had to get to my school in the morning to sort out the day's cover that I'd neglected to do on Friday. I regretted this decision as soon as I got in, although I remember feeling like I wanted to die last week so really this was the best option.
I got it all done by 8am and ran out the door, stopping off to say hello to the friendly smokers on the way. It felt pretty weird walking away from school, especially when I had so many lessons to miss today, but I ploughed on. I ran into one of my more challenging year 8s, W, on the way.
"Where are you going Miss?"
"To The Outstanding School for the week. What happened to you? Why the crutches?"
"They're my friend's."
(No friend to be seen.)
"O....K... have a nice week."
I managed to get there just before half past, and signed myself in at reception and waited for the head of department to arrive. He bustled in merrily, and led me off to get a cup of coffee then made small talk whilst introducing me to the rest of the department, including the young male teacher I'd met on Wednesday, and who I'd be observing later. I followed the HoD to his form group, who were a largely bored selection of sixth formers. (No vertical tutoring here.)
I had first period free, so was set up in the English stock cupboard, searching through the department's resources and deciding what to steal (decided: everything.) I was then collected by the lovely HoD who took me up to his classroom to watch his year 12s. They were discussing poetry, and I found it rather interesting, although I'd been up for so long that I was feeling rather sleepy, embarrassingly enough.
After the brief break I watched the young teacher with his year 9s. They were writing poetry, and although a couple were a little chatty (one was even moved) the kids did work in silence. For a long time. I was so taken aback, I was practically speechless after the lesson. No answering back, no confusion or argument over the task, no teeth kissing. I had to stifle a laugh when the kids were doing their work and all I could think of was one of my own year 9s, when asked to write on her white board what genre of film Rambo was, wrote "ROCK".
Nothing like that here: the kids wrote some amazing poetry with relatively little guidance other than a few poems for inspiration.
I had a great chat with that teacher on the way to lunch, and was even treated to a free meal. The school itself is housed in an old building set around a relatively dilapidated quad, with myriad posters advertising the various societies run by the students (gardenology club caught my eye in particular) but the otherwise nondescript lunch hall was separate. As I walked around the school, I noticed something. Just being around the corridors was a weird experience in relation to my school. Of course, the kids were hardly from the Village of the Damned, but there was so much less aggression that you could feel it.
I had another free after lunch, so spent it shamelessly downloading their resources onto my USB.
After that, I was summoned to the last lesson - another group of year 9s, who were doing Richard III. The group was a bit livelier but were still willing to write paragraphs on verbal irony with five minutes to go. The teacher was really fun and spirited, and perfectly comfortable with the group, who were all on task, as far as I could tell.
I was fairly embarrassed that, as I was so tired, I didn't really get up and walk around, or talk to the kids, which I should have been doing. I hope they didn't think I was some sack of crap.
I ran off as soon as the bell went, so I could get back to my school to set my cover for the next day. Not ideal, but had to be done. Plus it means I get a slight lie-in tomorrow. I'm looking forward to the rest of the week, I really hope I'll learn a lot from them.
Thursday 4 February 2010
Days 93-95: Welcome to Civilisation
The rest of the week flew by remarkably quickly.
On Wednesday my year 9s had their assessment, and I was gobsmacked by how they settled down to do it. My colleague gave me some pretty nice feedback, saying I got them settled well and managed to fit in the whole assessment. A couple of the kids were acting up, particularly A. I was impressed by how hard U worked, although to be honest he just wants to do well on the assessment so that he can apply to do some course next year (fair enough, to be honest.)
After the pleasant-as-usual year 11, I had year 10 last lesson, and was observed by my professional tutor and LDO. I tried doing a starter on semi-colons, which wasn't brilliant, although a lot of the kids did manage to fit them in to their work, and I had a real laugh reading out the work of one of the girls who wrote a surprisingly accurate sequel to the Twilight saga.
After the lesson and a quick chat with my observers, I went down to meet A for our after school meeting. I wasn't looking forward to it, as I didn't really know what to do, and I had to go to The Outstanding School afterwards to organise my second school placement for next week. Big surprise: A stood me up.
I went off to visit The Outstanding School and was warmly received by the Head of English, who gave me a tour and asked what I wanted to see. He seemed very nice indeed, and entertained me for an hour. The only criticism I had, which was to be expected, was the reaction I got when I was introduced to someone and they were told my school's name. With each one, I had a sympathetic smile and a nod of "welcome to civilisation." I'm not sure what to say about that.
After my meeting, I went back to school, where year 9 options evening was in full swing. I ran off to the pub with my colleague, and ran into A and his mum on the way. Apparently A didn't think he needed to go to out meeting, because his mother had called to say she couldn't make it. I decided to give him another chance, so arranged to meet him the same time on Thursday.
Thursday came and went pretty smoothly, and I was once again looking forward to my meeting with A. I went down to reception, a couple of minutes later than expected, to meet him. I waited for a while, with no sign. One of the SLT who was on duty at the reception door informed me that he had "gotten into trouble" so I decided to give him five minutes just in case. I turned to look through the glass reception doors in time to see him leaving with his mother. Confused, I walked in and was intercepted by another member of SLT.
"Forget about him," she said. "Pretend he was never here."
A, as it turned out, was called a "fat shit" by some girl in his class, and responded by throwing a chair at her. He was excluded as a result. I felt a mix of guilt and relief when I was told that his mother had protested his being asked to leave as he had "a special lesson with his English teacher" but had been shot down by the SLT. I have no idea what the future holds for him now. I guess I tried, just not hard enough.
Friday was significantly less exciting, and my year 10 lesson went by pretty quickly. Year 7 were much better behaved in the library, and I even managed to read about three pages of a Margaret Atwood novel. I finished at lunch time, as always, but didn't manage to get as much work down as I wanted, as always. I had intended to sort out my cover for the next week, but I left it too late, so got into a bit of a panic when my colleagues started leaving for the pub and I didn't know what to do with the kids. I decided to leave the cover for Monday morning, because I didn't have to be at The Outstanding School until 8.30am, so would have plenty of time. I'm sure I'll regret that decision later...
On Wednesday my year 9s had their assessment, and I was gobsmacked by how they settled down to do it. My colleague gave me some pretty nice feedback, saying I got them settled well and managed to fit in the whole assessment. A couple of the kids were acting up, particularly A. I was impressed by how hard U worked, although to be honest he just wants to do well on the assessment so that he can apply to do some course next year (fair enough, to be honest.)
After the pleasant-as-usual year 11, I had year 10 last lesson, and was observed by my professional tutor and LDO. I tried doing a starter on semi-colons, which wasn't brilliant, although a lot of the kids did manage to fit them in to their work, and I had a real laugh reading out the work of one of the girls who wrote a surprisingly accurate sequel to the Twilight saga.
After the lesson and a quick chat with my observers, I went down to meet A for our after school meeting. I wasn't looking forward to it, as I didn't really know what to do, and I had to go to The Outstanding School afterwards to organise my second school placement for next week. Big surprise: A stood me up.
I went off to visit The Outstanding School and was warmly received by the Head of English, who gave me a tour and asked what I wanted to see. He seemed very nice indeed, and entertained me for an hour. The only criticism I had, which was to be expected, was the reaction I got when I was introduced to someone and they were told my school's name. With each one, I had a sympathetic smile and a nod of "welcome to civilisation." I'm not sure what to say about that.
After my meeting, I went back to school, where year 9 options evening was in full swing. I ran off to the pub with my colleague, and ran into A and his mum on the way. Apparently A didn't think he needed to go to out meeting, because his mother had called to say she couldn't make it. I decided to give him another chance, so arranged to meet him the same time on Thursday.
Thursday came and went pretty smoothly, and I was once again looking forward to my meeting with A. I went down to reception, a couple of minutes later than expected, to meet him. I waited for a while, with no sign. One of the SLT who was on duty at the reception door informed me that he had "gotten into trouble" so I decided to give him five minutes just in case. I turned to look through the glass reception doors in time to see him leaving with his mother. Confused, I walked in and was intercepted by another member of SLT.
"Forget about him," she said. "Pretend he was never here."
A, as it turned out, was called a "fat shit" by some girl in his class, and responded by throwing a chair at her. He was excluded as a result. I felt a mix of guilt and relief when I was told that his mother had protested his being asked to leave as he had "a special lesson with his English teacher" but had been shot down by the SLT. I have no idea what the future holds for him now. I guess I tried, just not hard enough.
Friday was significantly less exciting, and my year 10 lesson went by pretty quickly. Year 7 were much better behaved in the library, and I even managed to read about three pages of a Margaret Atwood novel. I finished at lunch time, as always, but didn't manage to get as much work down as I wanted, as always. I had intended to sort out my cover for the next week, but I left it too late, so got into a bit of a panic when my colleagues started leaving for the pub and I didn't know what to do with the kids. I decided to leave the cover for Monday morning, because I didn't have to be at The Outstanding School until 8.30am, so would have plenty of time. I'm sure I'll regret that decision later...
Tuesday 2 February 2010
Day 92: Busy Bee
What is it about Tuesdays? Well, obviously I always have four lessons, and always end with year 8, but today felt like a real drag. I've sat at home in varying degrees of consciousness since coming home early so I won't say much except that the day was long, I was tired, and the kids were rowdy.
Year 11 were a little slow but did get a lot of work done, working in pairs (sort of) and completing a chart that I'd devised. The lesson was a little aimless but I'm sure I can work something out for tomorrow.
Year 9 were unusually quiet once I'd gotten their attention, but that was mainly because I was talking about the Academy sitution. A was much better in this lesson, and the kids for the most part did the work. Or at least I hope they did, because they'll need it for the assessment tomorrow.
Year 10 were silenced by my horrible mood; I hadn't wanted to tell them the truth about not marking their coursework, but I came clean eventually. I was pretty negative at the start of the lesson, so played them a couple of happy songs to cheer them up, then set them off on their coursework. They were pretty good really, which was in sharp contrast to year 8.
As always on a Tuesday afternoon, year 8 dribbled into the class in a state of disaray, and there was one excruciating moment when everyone in the room was chatting and laughing when I'd asked for quiet so I stood at the front looking pissed off then resorted to my old favourite: writing on the board "Whole class detention" and the number of minutes I was waiting. The lesson was a bit of a mess, and in the end I didn't keep them behind because I had to go and meet A's mum in reception.
After dragging my mentor out of a meeting (cringe) I met with A's mum for a rather rushed meeting during which I and my mentor repeated what we'd said before. I don't know how long A will be at the school but (after my mentor left) I suggested to them that I meet with A weekly to talk over English and check up on him. I'm not sure what I think I'm going to achieve from this, other than wanting to help get through to him and support him in some way.
I'm hoping tomorrow will be a little less stressful.
Year 11 were a little slow but did get a lot of work done, working in pairs (sort of) and completing a chart that I'd devised. The lesson was a little aimless but I'm sure I can work something out for tomorrow.
Year 9 were unusually quiet once I'd gotten their attention, but that was mainly because I was talking about the Academy sitution. A was much better in this lesson, and the kids for the most part did the work. Or at least I hope they did, because they'll need it for the assessment tomorrow.
Year 10 were silenced by my horrible mood; I hadn't wanted to tell them the truth about not marking their coursework, but I came clean eventually. I was pretty negative at the start of the lesson, so played them a couple of happy songs to cheer them up, then set them off on their coursework. They were pretty good really, which was in sharp contrast to year 8.
As always on a Tuesday afternoon, year 8 dribbled into the class in a state of disaray, and there was one excruciating moment when everyone in the room was chatting and laughing when I'd asked for quiet so I stood at the front looking pissed off then resorted to my old favourite: writing on the board "Whole class detention" and the number of minutes I was waiting. The lesson was a bit of a mess, and in the end I didn't keep them behind because I had to go and meet A's mum in reception.
After dragging my mentor out of a meeting (cringe) I met with A's mum for a rather rushed meeting during which I and my mentor repeated what we'd said before. I don't know how long A will be at the school but (after my mentor left) I suggested to them that I meet with A weekly to talk over English and check up on him. I'm not sure what I think I'm going to achieve from this, other than wanting to help get through to him and support him in some way.
I'm hoping tomorrow will be a little less stressful.
Monday 1 February 2010
Day 91: Oops...
6am may be getting lighter, but it's no easier to get out of bed. It's been incredibly cold over the last couple of days, which, when combined with my own lack of sleep over the weekend, made for a challenging morning.
I was pleased to see my classroom in a non-trashed state. I nearly cried on Thursday when I saw someone in the class that uses it once a fortnight had ripped my border on my display board. Filthy children.
Year 7 were first lesson, and they had a little introduction to the themes and ideas behind Macbeth. That is, witches and ambition. The kids were incredibly lively, and I even had a new student turn up, another ex transition child who was quiet but nice enough, and I sat her next to one of my bright, rather loud, but very sweet children. I showed them the animated tales of Macbeth, which was incredibly bloody and confusing, but I think most of them were able to keep up.
After year 7 I had nothing until year 11 last period, so set about preparing that lesson as well as, actually, I'm not sure what I did. I think I was prepping. I'm always a little embarrassed at how easy it is to waste a day, especially when I had so much marking to do. I spent the rest of the day being hounded by my year 10s who want their coursework marks. I lied to them and said they'd have to wait until the lesson tomorrow, although I'm now not sure what I can do, as I've still not marked it. Oh dear. I will have to think of something.
Year 11 were a little unresponsive to the lesson I'd thought up to explain the most depressing short story we do: Veronica. I tried to explain the idea of fatalism to them, although I'm not sure how many of them got it. I'm hoping that it will stick with them until at least tomorrow when we're going to talk about the short stories again. K was back in school after his exclusion and was being a little arsey again, but at least contributed some things. One of the other kids, F, was really sweet all lesson, offering to read the short story for me. I unfortunately managed to insult the poor boy with a racist slur which was utterly mortifying to me, and probably to him to. I had them talking about ambition and their own goals. When they laughed at A for saying he wanted to be a doctor, I tried to get them to think bigger than football (or perhaps more realistic.) F came up with "footballer" and I said "What are you going to do after you retire, open a kebab shop?"
The class laughed at him, and I realised my mistake. Of course, he is Turkish, but I really wasn't thinking that when I said it (although obviously I was subliminally) so I quickly countered with "No, no, I didn't mean it like that..." I did apologise to him profusely afterwards and he was very sweet and shrugged it off, but I was so embarrassed. I need to be careful - had that been a different group I would have been in a lot of trouble.
So on that bombshell, I finished for the day, and ran out of school to attend an appointment across town. Only four get-ups left. Phew.
I was pleased to see my classroom in a non-trashed state. I nearly cried on Thursday when I saw someone in the class that uses it once a fortnight had ripped my border on my display board. Filthy children.
Year 7 were first lesson, and they had a little introduction to the themes and ideas behind Macbeth. That is, witches and ambition. The kids were incredibly lively, and I even had a new student turn up, another ex transition child who was quiet but nice enough, and I sat her next to one of my bright, rather loud, but very sweet children. I showed them the animated tales of Macbeth, which was incredibly bloody and confusing, but I think most of them were able to keep up.
After year 7 I had nothing until year 11 last period, so set about preparing that lesson as well as, actually, I'm not sure what I did. I think I was prepping. I'm always a little embarrassed at how easy it is to waste a day, especially when I had so much marking to do. I spent the rest of the day being hounded by my year 10s who want their coursework marks. I lied to them and said they'd have to wait until the lesson tomorrow, although I'm now not sure what I can do, as I've still not marked it. Oh dear. I will have to think of something.
Year 11 were a little unresponsive to the lesson I'd thought up to explain the most depressing short story we do: Veronica. I tried to explain the idea of fatalism to them, although I'm not sure how many of them got it. I'm hoping that it will stick with them until at least tomorrow when we're going to talk about the short stories again. K was back in school after his exclusion and was being a little arsey again, but at least contributed some things. One of the other kids, F, was really sweet all lesson, offering to read the short story for me. I unfortunately managed to insult the poor boy with a racist slur which was utterly mortifying to me, and probably to him to. I had them talking about ambition and their own goals. When they laughed at A for saying he wanted to be a doctor, I tried to get them to think bigger than football (or perhaps more realistic.) F came up with "footballer" and I said "What are you going to do after you retire, open a kebab shop?"
The class laughed at him, and I realised my mistake. Of course, he is Turkish, but I really wasn't thinking that when I said it (although obviously I was subliminally) so I quickly countered with "No, no, I didn't mean it like that..." I did apologise to him profusely afterwards and he was very sweet and shrugged it off, but I was so embarrassed. I need to be careful - had that been a different group I would have been in a lot of trouble.
So on that bombshell, I finished for the day, and ran out of school to attend an appointment across town. Only four get-ups left. Phew.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)