Day 9: The weekend is in sight

After my rather abrupt end to the post from yesterday, maybe I should pick up from parents' evening last night.

So, at 3.30 I returned from The Bin to the department, ready for parents' evening. It wasn't really explained to me what I should actually say should I have been asked for a meeting. It also wasn't explained how long they should last. The evening was specifically for year 11, as it was cancelled last term due to a powercut. Towards the end of the day a member of staff went around posting names on the classroom doors to indicate which teachers would be present. I was told that although it was predominately for personal tutors, subject teachers should 'hang around' in case someone wanted to discuss things. I figured that, as I'd only had my year 11s for a couple of weeks, noone would want me and I could spend the 3 hours planning. I pencilled my name onto a sign and sat down to facebook (ahem) in the English office.

I was a little shaken therefore when my GTP colleague came to tell me I had a visitor. I began to panic - what exactly could I say? Only one of my pupils had mentioned he'd be attending, as his "mum was making him go. bitch." My colleague told me what to do and say; repeat to them the pupil's target grade and "challenge" grade (two marks higher) and say that if they wanted to do better they needed to attend every lesson, participate in class and finish all the coursework. I steeled myself and strolled into the classroom, hoping that my faux air of confidence was believable. I was suprised to see a pupil whom I'd never really spoken to before, let's call him H, with his mum, a restless sister, and a white woman who eventually introduced herself to me as his tutor. We sat down and I started the spiel. H is on course for a G grade, but if he works hard he could achieve a D. This hurt. Earlier in the day I had joked nervously with colleagues about how I would actually say this to a parent if asked; it seemed rather depressing. Anyway, I said it and was grilled by his tutor about what we'd been studying and what he'd need to know for the exam. I stalled a bit; I couldn't remember what we'd be doing later in the year, so I had to run off to get the long term plan (lent to me by the lovely GTP) and I managed to bluff my way through. The tutor asked me if H ever spoke to me in class; I could honestly not remember. I said no, not really, and she launched into a diatribe about how he had no friends, spoke no English at home, and didn't practice apart from with her ("was there a drama club at school he could join?") She tutored him for maths three times a week, and was trying to help him with English at the same time. I tried to smile encouragingly at H; I couldn't imagine how uncomfortable he must have been feeling. My GTP colleague joined us at this point (not before telling me that the meetings were only supposed to be ten minutes - we'd been talking for at least 15) and reminded his mother and tutor of how far he'd come. She used to be a teaching assistant at the school for six years and had seen him when he was new to the country (Somalian?) and couldn't speak any English at all; it was remarkable to consider how much she must have seen him change, shy as he was now.

We got on to the subject of coursework, and I ran off again to get the boxfile I'd stored in my class cupboard. Showing them the marks was made more painful when I saw the look on H's face. He'd gotten 3/40 for one piece - he'd been sick, apparently. The piece itself was handwritten on one sheet of lined paper and incomplete. His mother was horrified; she said she wasn't sure whether to be angry at H or the school. I looked at his grades and felt a little sick. "You know, he could come in on Friday and I could help him redraft a couple of pieces," I offered. I tried to explain as tactfully as possible that Friday was a target setting day for the school, so there would be no lessons for anyone (year 7-10 pupils come in with parents and discuss to which grades their children should be aiming) and some select year 11s would come in for coursework help. Although the coursework help was aimed primarily at those expected to reach a C grade (D/C students are the priority - targets, innit) I could help H myself as I'd have no formal plans (other than planning.) They seemed happy with this, and I grimaced internally as H's mother made him thank me. I waved them off, feeling rather disillusioned with the whole GCSE system. I'm still not sure how I feel about it.

Whilst we'd been having our marathon chat, I spotted K from my year 11 group leaning against the wall in the hallway. I was mid conversation so didn't really acknowlege him, assuming he was waiting for someone else. He disappeared after, so I wonder if he had been waiting for me. I'm not sure what I could have said, but I would have liked to talk to him outside of the classroom. The only other pupil I saw was another in the group who spent most of the time chatting to K. He came with his brother and they both seemed bored (can't say I blame them.) After giving them the target/challenge grade spiel I offered him the chance to redraft his coursework if he wanted. He didn't. I asked if they had any questions. They didn't. I thanked them and they sloped off. At least they came, I guess.

So that was yesterday. I went home, exhausted, and managed to watch two episodes of BSG with my flatmate - what a treat! I went to bed later than expected our other flatmate returned from holiday, but managed to get my head down around midnight.

As always, morning came too soon, and I allowed myself an extra 15 minutes in bed before dragging myself in. I only had two lessons today, which was a blessing after the past three days. I prepared the classroom for my first lesson (year 10) which wasn't going to be until after break. I was getting nervous about it; the group are difficult to manage, and I don't think I'm doing a great job of explaining what I'm teaching to them. In the period before break I was joined by my professional/subject tutor with whom I had a long chat. It's interesting to think that after Monday (maybe it's the fatigue) I've been feeling fairly neutral about how things are going. She gave me some good advice, and I felt a little better over my pre-lesson cigarette. Finally, breaktime was over, and I went up to the room. I was a little perplexed to see, when my students had entered, that the girl who I'd moved down was sat on her old desk chatting.
I asked her politely to leave.
"But I'm just talking to my friends."
"You can do that after the lesson. Please go to your classroom."
I was relieved when she went without complaint.
I got going on the lesson, and was pleased that the group hushed much quicker than they had the day before. There are still some very irritating girls that I need to separate as soon as possible. I'd set them a starter that I thought would work, thinking about Juliet's language when we first meet her. I was asked what the exam question meant. Hmmmmmm. I might have to address that in the next lesson. They read through the text and I questioned for understanding. I tried to bang on about the sonnet form, but it wasn't really going in. I made the mistake of playing them the film version first, which meant that they were thinking about that when they answered the questions on the worksheet I gave them. I need to find some background research for them to do, I've realised that they don't really know much about the time. Oh well. One of the pupils was really off with me, she wouldn't put her folder on the pile as asked. I'm not sure what to think about her; she keeps testing me, I really need to stand up to her in a firmer way. I kept two of the girls behind as a warning for chatting. They left smirking. ARGH.

Lunchtime was a sweet relief. I was beginning to get nervous about my year 9 group. I'd promised them the film if they did their work, but didn't account for the fact that I'd planned a full lesson without the film. I should really prepare some tie-in activities next time I do that. In the period I had off before year 9, I was sat in my NQT colleague's classroom as mine was being used. As we chatted about something mundane, the long-term supply teacher came in holding a pupil's book. "What should I do about this?" she asked my NQT colleague and I, "this pupil wrote this in her book and now she won't leave my classroom." He had a look and suggested that they speak to the HoD, who was busy in a lesson, and so another teacher (the one who helped in my year 9 class) went to help. Shortly after they'd gone I could hear shouting from the other side of the corridor. Turned out a top set year 9 pupil had written something offensive, along the lines of "I don't want to be in your stupid lesson you bitch" and then called her the C word. The bad one.

So if I wasn't nervous about my year 9 group before, I was now. Not least because I'd have the parent-liaison observing, as well as, at it turned out, a member of the SLT. And a TA. Panic. It was amusing to see how obsessed the kids were with the idea of watching the movie, as I'd promised they could if they did the homework I'd set them before. They were actually questioning each other to make sure they'd all done it. Unfortunately they didn't all write their names on it, so I couldn't tell who hadn't done it (apart from one of my troublesome pupils.) Overall only about 3 or 4 of them hadn't, so I decided to show it. Before that, I tried a simple starter, after the success of the one the day before: more apostrophes. They kind of got it, but not hugely. It was a little dry. I decided to jump straight to the video after, which took most of the lesson. What was wonderful to see was how good they were whilst watching. Other than the odd chatter, there was not a peep out of them. They were incredibly interested in what I had thought was a rather sorry and dated BBC adaptation of the novel we're reading, Stone Cold. They seemed to love it. I will have to remember that in the future. Videos = good.

I was beginning to panic, as I still had time left in the lesson. I stopped the video and threw together a quick plenary of apostrophes to write in their books. My little homework-less pupil was kept behind because he had not only not done his homework, or at least not brought it, but had been irritating and disruptive the entire lesson. I'm going to have to put it on SIMS, as I forgot. I should have kept him behind longer, I just had a quick chat and sent him on his merry way. I had a nice long chat with the SLT after, and she gave me pointers and advice, and offered to observe a lesson with me, so we could discuss it after, which would be really great. She pointed out that the lesson wasn't a disaster, and the kids weren't that bad. I suppose they're not really. I feel a bit embarrassed about the fuss I'd kicked up about them, especially now that my colleague has rearranged his timetable so he can team teach them with me.

So anyway, the day ended and I went for a cigarette and decided to try to round up some more year 11s to do coursework tomorrow. Originally I wasn't sure whether or not to get more in, but it was only after I thought about it, I decided that I feel I'd be doing them a disservice if I don't at least give them the opportunity to come in and catch up. I called around five parents, and got through to two, who said they'd bring their sons in. I did speak to one year 11 in the class who, when I look at her coursework grades (she's handed in 2 out of 5) could get a C if she completed the rest to the same standard. She didn't want to come in, claiming she had an appointment the next day, and I said I'd speak to her in the week. I am determined to help her do better. I guess she just has to want it.

So I went home relatively early, having printed off coursework information for me to read over tomorrow (I haven't actually read the poems they'll be looking at; something we'll have in common) and was treated to a slap up dinner courtesy of my lovely flatmate.

I feel pretty relaxed now, and am actually looking forward to tomorrow. We'll have to see how many turn up (I know H certainly will) and hopefully I can make it at least a little fun. I might bring some snacks for them to enjoy whilst they work.

Bon nuit!