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.

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...

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.

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.

Days 84-90: Ennui

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.

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...

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.