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!

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.

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?

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?

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.

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.

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.