You need another two years...

I made a mad decision last Monday, and submitted an application which resulted in two nights awful sleep, many ciders (you'll find that cider is a common theme in this blog), two interviews, and all to apply for an internal promotion to Head of Maths.

I know, it's rather ridiculous, right? At the end of this academic year I'll have been in teaching for four years (technically - teacher training counts) and at St James for three years. That alone is a scary thought, and if you couple it with the fact that I'm only 24 years old it all gets a bit much (in fact, I'm only just closer to 25 than I am to 23. Now it's getting stupid).

Anyway. After much support and encouragement from my colleagues, I sent a cover letter to the Headmaster and was invited to interview two days later. Thus the bad sleep and the late night practice of A-level/Further Maths Calculus and Trigonometry (a trademark of my current Head of Department's interview technique... start by smashing the morale with a really hard maths question and then ask 'Why do you think you're suitable for this job?' 'I JUST DON'T KNOW ANY MORE')

It was very odd interviewing for an internal post. I mean, I couldn't embellish the truth even just a little bit. 'Oh yes, why I believe it's important to teach Sixth Form Mathematics outside the classroom regularly' (translation: I accompanied them to a day of Maths lectures that one time. Where I got a signed book from Simon Singh about the maths that appears in the Simpsons and in Futurama)

Ahahahahaaa.... Dog in a box. Hehehe.... that's excellent.

This joke was in tonight's episode actually. The book is really worth a read!

Anyway. It was a very emotional and soul-searching experience, to write the cover letter for this job. There were moments of realisation that actually, I'd achieved quite a lot in my time at St James. I'd registered my interest in the school quite early by pushing to be the Head of a House, and also by offering to teach one class of Year 9 Physics three times a week last year (some of the experiments I made up were quite hilarious). I have a Year 7 Form this year, and have been rather heavily involved in the Music side of things. But there were, however, times of great self-doubt and wishing I'd pushed to do more to make myself a more credible candidate for a Head of Department job.

 My mindset for most of the build-up to decision time was that I didn't really have a shot at this position, Until I heard that the other two candidates didn't have any Head of Maths experience either, and following my disaster-free interviews I started to think that, maybe, I was in with a chance.

It wasn't to be unfortunately. I think this is right, it is quite early to be considering Head of Department (although I vehemently argued in my interview when asked the question 'I think you need another two years of teaching, don't you?' with 'Two years of teaching would make me a better teacher... but if I'm right for Head of Maths in two years, surely I'm ready now? I'm not going to gain management experience if I go the next two years without it, surely?') Which might just illustrate my naivety.

It was such a worthwhile thing to do, nevertheless. I look forward to receiving feedback on my probably slightly stupid interview answers - 'How would you deal with this particular member of staff, for example, if he were to disagree with your decisions about the Scheme of Work?' 'TELL THEM WHERE TO STICK IT.'

It's all a matter of timing

One of the main things I struggled with as a new teacher was managing my time.

There are a lot of contentious news articles which have been floating around the inter-webs for a long time now, with regards to teacher working hours. Most teaching contracts specify a given time-frame in which you are expected to be in the building (office?) but also usually include something like the following:

"such reasonable hours as may be necessary to enable the effective discharge of a teacher's professional duties"

When I first came across this in my job contract I remember thinking it might be a bit dodge. Basically "you'll just have to work until the work is done" which I now know rarely ever is. At the start I would spend hours and hours trying to perfect one lesson plan, which carried on into my NQT year (see previous blog post: I never knew lesson planning was so hard)

The thing that makes the issue of teacher working hours so difficult to argue is that you can essentially choose the amount of time you spend working on this job, outside of 'office hours'. Obviously there is a minimum which ensures you are doing the job sufficiently, but if you're working up to a promotion (or if you're young and child-free like myself) it's very easy to be in school from 7am-6pm every day, and then take extra stuff home to do for an hour or two each evening. And of course everybody is different; the amount of time you spend on your work doesn't necessarily mean you do it better. Although I think it's safe to say there's a weak positive correlation (scatter graph lesson ideas, anyone? You're welcome)

If you're extremely foolish (as my colleague likes to remind me every day) you could find yourself in the orchestra of the school musical, adding an extra 16 hours onto your working week. That was an interesting 80-hour week.

That's my beautiful arm there. Bottom right, in case you didn't know what my arm looked like.

The main thing I've needed to develop in this career is flexibility. No not that kind, you naughty thing. But the ability to prioritise, and know when perhaps a certain task (like Y10 reports this morning...) might need to wait because there's an issue in your Year 7 Form group, pertaining to certain individuals repeating the rubbish they've heard the Y10's spouting. I'm certainly not looking forward to explaining what a 'blowjob' is to boys who haven't even gone through puberty yet.

Some days are quiet, and you can get through everything you planned to. Other days you're stuck with double cover, 6 e-mails from concerned parents, a further emergency cover because another teacher has an emergency meeting with a concerned parent, late homework trickling in from last week to mark (dammit Y11) and a broken coffee machine (never forget - September 2014)

And I think the desire to gain some sort of relaxed time at home each evening means I complete these tasks with ever-increasing speed and efficiency. She said, while spilling and then sipping cider from her laptop keyboard.

Crikey O'Reilly Inspector!

'Crikey O'Reilly' because, my sources inform me that it has been almost 3 years since I last made a record of an inner rambling, or voiced any thoughts, with regards to my teaching career. These same sources also inform me that many people believe that O'Reilly must have been 'an Irishman with extravagantly large trousers'. Hmm.

Anyway. Let us peek into where I last left off my blogging diary; a fresh-faced, 22-year old completes her PGCE successfully, and starts a new job as an NQT (that's a Nooly Qualified Teacher for all you teaching noobs out there) at St James Senior Boys School in September 2013. Here it is again for your viewing pleasure...

It's quite nice isn't it.

And I am in fact, still there. More recent shenanigans will have to wait until later; I think the best place to start might be the actual NQT year itself.

So talk about baptism of fire! 6 weeks into the new term at the new job at the new school, with a new Headmaster, and we were faced with an Inspection. I mean, I'd only just learned the kid's names by that point, and where the toilets were. I'd known Y11 Ralph's* (name change again) name since Day 1... that kid who seemed to have lost his pencilcase to the Ashford-based criminally-inclined raccoon who was in the area yesterday. The same kid who lent his sister his calculator for her Maths exam... every day for four weeks straight. " Exactly how many Maths exams does your sister have Ralph?"

So, Inspection looms. A distinct memory I have of that period of time is getting into trouble with the quality of my marking. When you go from 12 lessons a week in your PGCE, to 24 lessons a week in your NQT year, certain areas of 'perfect' teaching seem to suffer (and I think it's different with everyone). Anyway, mine turned out to be my written assessment, and my poor Head of Department had to catch me after the Inspection announcement to, basically, bollock me about the quality of it. That was a lesson well learned - never scrimp on the marking, because you'll have to stay up all night before a 4-day inspection doing it properly.

Inspection week arrives, books are bitchin', lessons are planned (that's a whole other blog post I think) and everyone's on eggshells. Exhausted, while running on adrenaline, highly anxious, and close to tears much of the time, I didn't think I'd manage to make it through. But then this wonderful anecdote passes around the staffroom which made me forget my troubles for about 3 seconds.

A colleagues observation, and a certain rather cocky, sometimes disrespectful pupil is late to the lesson. While walking down the corridor to his classroom he sees at a distance one of the inspectors, seemingly bound for his lesson. By way of warning to his teacher, he dances his way into the classroom singing 'doo doo doo doo doo.... Inspector Gadget...' before realising that another inspector is already in the room, and the lesson has already begun. This set my mind at ease about my own lesson observation, obviously. Surely this could only be topped by a pupil coming in singing 'Ding, Dong the Witch is Dead'.

But survive, I did. Complete successful observation of Y11 on Thursday P6+7 (the graveyard slot), I did. And learn an awful lot, I bloody did. Because what I came to learn about teaching through most of that NQT year, was that unfortunately to be an excellent teacher takes experience. And obviously if you're a new teacher, you don't have that experience. The key is how quickly you're able to learn from an awful lesson you've delivered, how insightful you are into what actually went wrong, and what can be done to improve the next lesson you deliver on fractions where last time you forgot to recap how to multiply two single-digit numbers together because you thought that EVERY CHILD IN THE LAND knew their times tables.

I think meta-cognition and self-awareness should be taught in all schools, don't you? And times tables.

The Haunting

Last time, on A Student Teacher's Inner Thoughts and Ramblings; I was a day and a half away from finishing my 2nd placement at Haberdasher Aske's, and embarking on a final month of university-based learning. Once again, my incredible skills at regular blogging have meant that both these events have now been and gone... both were rather uneventful I suppose.

We at the Maths Department at HAHC carted ourselves off to Cafe Rouge on my last day (which I actually missed, on account of my uveitis flaring up... AGAIN. I wasn't teaching anyway, praise the Lord for KS3 exams), and I received presents! An awesome Maths book (if that's possible), chocolate (always good) ... and a stack of exam papers to mark, that my top-set Year 7 Boys had taken that day >.< wrapped in pretty paper and everything. Cunningly disguised.

So that was the end of May. A few days later I left Crewdson Road, and moved myself to my grandmothers attic in Peckham Rye. An intermittent before I find a new place nearer Ashford, ready for my start date at St. James on the 30th August. And yeah I'm still there, 2 months on. Turns out finding a flat is harder than you'd think...

Peckham Rye. You know, that place that's dangerously close to New Cross? Within the catchment area for HAHC? 

This has resulted in some really awkward chance-meetings with ex-pupils. 

The first: cycling through Peckham Rye Park. I heard a folorn voice which spake thus; "Hullo Miss Mitchell", from an old Year 7 pupil. I was going too fast to stop so I just carried on. 

The second: me exiting Peckham McDonalds, McFlurry in hand, on one of those beautiful July days we've had this year. I encountered one of my Problem Children from my Year 9 class, fortunately with his mum. He didn't say anything. Just glared. Who wouldn't, when I have a McFlurry and they don't?

The third: me exiting one of those suspicious clothes shops, the ones where it looks like everything fell off the back of a lorry? (Ironically it was called 'Loot') Another folorn voice. "Hiiii Miss Mitchell" - another Year 7. Shouldn't they be hanging around somewhere other than Peckham?

Putting that unpleasant business behind us. I've been for my induction day at St. James! I've also been given my classes and timetable and everything:

Year 7, Set 2 of 4

Year 8, Set 2 of 4

Year 9, Set 1 of 4 

Year 10, Set 4 of 4

Year 11, Set 4 of 5

Year 12, A-level Core 1 and 2.

I was also lucky enough to be given my own classroom... 

So, 4 weeks exactly and counting. Time to plan some lessons I think... haha. Any ideas for a good 'first lesson of the year'? I've not had the chance to do something like this yet!

Celebration in T-1.5 days...

Once again I have demonstrated my extreme lack of ability to keep a regular blog of my teaching experience, but not to worry. Here is a shiny new post for your reading pleasure.

So my time at HAHC (that's Haberdasher Aske's Hatcham College for those of you who don't know) is fast approaching its conclusion. Today is my penultimate day; and I'm over the moon with joy. I'd be more overjoyed if I didn't have problems with my eyes again, but that's another story. Which involves my IoE tutor informing me 20 minutes before my final formal observation last week that she'd got on the wrong train, and was hurtling at 50mph towards Clapham Junction instead of New Cross Gate. And then spending about 10 unneccessary minutes telling me off for saying 'length of circumference' instead of 'circumference'. Apparently circumference is already a measure so I don't need to decribe the length of it. Little does she know that if I'd said just 'find the circumference' the pupils would have no clue what the circumference was depsite talking about it for 10 minutes previously.


So; most of the paperwork is complete (including a rather pleasing end-of-placement report) and weekly mentor meeting logs are being fabricated as we speak. The IoE are eagerly awaiting my return on Thursday, and I've taken the liberty of writing a list of "Things that Teachers at Hatcham College don't say" -

• There is a great school Behaviour Policy.
• I find the school's Behaviour Policy very comprehensive and easy to implement.
• I just love waiting 20 minutes for the mini-bus that runs between the upper and lower school. And the drivers are so respectful towards life.
• It's highly amusing and heart-warming when Year 7's call each other racist, rapist and paedo.
• That dinner-lady is so meek and quiet you'd hardly know she was outside the office window at all times every day.
• I love the smell of fried chicken and brill cream on the bus to/from school.
• Aren't the children lovely.

Also doubles up as a list of things I'm not going to miss once I've left.

It's quite odd to think that as of tomorrow, I will supposedly have done enough teaching practice to qualify as a Maths Teacher. Not an ST (student teacher) or a BT (beginner teacher). An NQT (newly-qualified teacher), yes, but still a qualified teacher. I've finally got over feeling like I'm too young; that I don't have enough life experience or authority to lead a class, because I've proven myself wrong time and time again over this placement. And I've even stood up to the bullies.

Not bully teachers. Bully pupils. I've had a few flashbacks to my own school life, especially when that girl blocked my way in the door and said;

"Errr, YOU can't come through here!"

Here's the look I gave.

Exactly. Move aside small being. Another example of a thing I'm not going to miss when I leave.

But I think I am going to miss it, generally and in all honesty. Despite its quaint ways and ever so welcoming atmosphere. I'm particularly going to miss my top-set Year 7 Boys class - it was so good to do stuff which was well above their curriculum level with them, which some of them understood (such as Algebra - equations with unknowns on both sides. I have seen many, many examples of Year 11's who could not do this) and it was so nice to hear all of them cry out with dismay when I told them I was leaving. As opposed to my Year 9 Boys class;



"So tomorrow's my last lesson with you"

"...Yay."

- was the honest-to-God solitary response. Ungrateful beings.

Onto bigger and better things, methinks.

New placement. New rules...

Oh dear. I'm not very good at this blogging malarkey am I? 17th January was the last one... Using my marvelous Mathematical skills I can tell you that was over a month ago.

So since then, much has happened. After finishing at Norbury Manor I was delighted, nay, thrilled, at the prospect of having sessions at IoE again. We welcomed each other back like comrades after war, we swapped harrowing tales of misdemeanour and rudeness, fights and confrontations, and bitchy rumours about other student teachers. But we had survived Placement 1 without failure or 'Cause for Concern', every student teacher's nightmare. We also had celebratory hummus after sessions.

Two weeks flew past and before we knew it we were back in school once again, for School Placement 2. I'm sure I mentioned it previously but my new school is Haberdasher Aske's Hatcham College in New Cross... formerly a Girls Grammar, then a mixed yet still selective state school, now a fully fledged mixed comprehensive academy in the heart of New Cross. Did I mention it's in New Cross. Wedged between Peckham and Lewisham? That's the one.

I'm actually 5 weeks into the placement now. During my time here I've discovered lots of new things about teaching and teachers and pupils and things. Mostly about what it's like to work in a school where hardly any of the other teachers want to be there. The pupils aren't actually that bad at all - obviously there are some pains in the backside and some with filthy attitudes to learning and teachers in general...

"Miss she never teaches us! All she does is go through an example on the board and then get us to do questions! Sometimes we do other stuff too, like games and activities and that, but she doesn't know how to teach us properly!"

Some kids these days. Don't know they're born.

I think what's mainly so difficult at this placement is the attitudes of the other teachers and members of staff here. Early on in my placement, one lunchtime, I found myself sitting among a throng of teaching assistants while we were all eating some lunch. The conversation quickly turned to the morning's lessons;

"Oh my god, today I was in this student teacher's lesson. She was so shit, she couldn't keep them under control."
"Yeah I know. These student teachers are rubbish, and they always look down on us. They don't know anything about teaching."

No shit Sherlock. Obviously they didn't know I was a student teacher, but I just couldn't help getting annoyed. Doesn't the phrase 'student teacher' tell you something? We're not even qualified - of course we know fuck all!

In addition to this, there is something that feels so... lax, about the attitudes of the other teachers. At Norbury, all the Maths teachers cared about their lessons; even if they had 7 lessons in one day, they would still make the effort to make some of their lessons different, and interesting. Caroline and I were always remarking about how much pressure we felt there was to match up to their standards, and as a result our lesson plans are now top-notch. But here, most lessons aren't even thought about until they arrive. It's a case of 'open the textbook, here's a topic we haven't done yet, do example, sit back while pupils get on with it'.

And the nightmare of the student teacher: I'd planned a double lesson (that's 1h40) for a Year 8 on Probability. Only to discover they had already done it earlier in the year, and the class teacher couldn't be bothered to remember, or check my lesson plan and tell me that they had already covered it. Did he help me out at that point? Did he fuck. I then exemplified the typical Hatcham Maths teacher, chose another topic out of the textbook, did an example altogether, and let them get on with it. But what did they expect me to do? Pull out another lesson from the bag that I'd done last year? I've been doing this for under 20 weeks.

Oh well. I'm learning a lot about Behaviour Management. Like the fact that no-one knows how to help me deal with it. I don't think this is anyone's fault, really. So I'm partly still trying to find my own way, but I'm just so glad I'm only here for another 5 weeks after Easter.

Hopefully I won't need it. For my NQT year at St James' Senior School for Boys!

Quite simply can't wait.

And so Placement 1 comes to an end...

Oh dear Lord. One more week and one more day, and my time at Norbury Manor will be at an end.

I know, it's so sad.

Despite all my ramblings about how this placement has been the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my entire life, I really don't want to leave! I'm only just getting used to the way things are done; I know all my pupil's names (mostly), I know the sanctions/reward system, I know the school day almost instinctively and I wake up 1/2 minutes before my alarm goes off every day. That's some serious school-day instinct.

And as I suspected, things are getting easier. No longer is it taking me 2/3 hours to plan one lesson - I can knock out an emergency wholly textbook-based lesson in under 20 minutes, which is always useful. I'm even managing to fit in some time in the evenings to chill at home (!) I know, shock horror!

However things are still challenging. It's strange - my mood seems to go in a cycle week to week, really good and upbeat for one week, the next week I seriously consider leaving the course and everything feels like a farce. But this is better than feeling like the latter all the time (like I did before), there are moments when I really, really enjoy this job.

This feels like a good time to reflect on a particularly horrid bottom-set Year 10 lesson from Tuesday.  Things started of badly from last week, when I handed back their Christmas Test Papers for them to discover they all achieved between 32% and 48%, with the exception of two very hard-working girls who got 64% and 70%. The mood in the class was sour; no-one could accept that Felicia* (name change again) had got 70% without cheating or having extra help from someone.

In actual fact she did get help from someone - her school teachers. Despite being orphaned at a terribly young age, in care and from a different country altogether, she really makes a mammoth effort to succeed. She stays behind at lunchtimes and after school, to make use of extra Maths sessions that we hold for all pupils, and was so worried about the test that she was in tears on the day of the test. And as a result she scored highest in the exam and is moving up sets. And guess who's the most furious about the whole situation?

The return of Shania

I've just come to realise what a nasty piece of work Shania is. She is not in the slightest bit pleased about Felicia scoring top of the class, and herself only scoring 42% (almost bottom). As a result she has been an absolute nightmare in lessons, and last Tuesday was the worst. She made no effort to understand the work, and was up and out of her seat almost constantly, doing her African dancing and singing. I could hear her making sly, underhand comments about those around her, and kept claiming "My bones hurt, I fell down the stairs". Which I knew was a lie, but if you say that doesn't it just causes a further confrontation...?

The others were hardly any better, making comments like "Miss I REALLY don't want to be here! No-one's listening to you, I don't understand the work and I can't be bothered! Why do we have to learn this?"

... you know when you have those moments, where you can feel yourself emulating a figure of the past? It was this moment when I personified my old teachers and said;

"This will be on your GCSE exam. I'm not doing this for my benefit, I've already got my Maths GCSE."

... which I think has made them hate me slightly. But it's OK, I've only got to teach them last lesson this Friday... >.< we'll see how that goes.

In other news, I have an interview for a Maths NQT position at Wembley High Technology College! The sheer fright of it all. I'd better prepare an answer to the question "Why did you want to become a teacher?" because honestly I've got no idea...

It's Christmas already?!

I can't believe it.

Doesn't time fly? The last thing I remember was arriving for my first day at IoE in September... although that might be something to do with the wine.

Tomorrow is the last day of term you see. Today we had 'fun afternoon' in which I supervised the Year 7 and 8 disco and was forced to do the 'Gangnam Style' dance by some girls in my classes. It was interesting how quickly the other girls backed away from the really old, embarrassing, dancing teacher... little do they know of my not-too-long-ago Cardiff clubbing escapades. If you want an idea of what our dancing was like, here's a glimpse of the awesome power of disco.

http://tmblr.co/ZK-Ovx3DLLtl

 

Anyway. So since my horribly downbeat blog from last time, school has been getting a lot better. I've been in a much better mood (which had probably helped with interaction between pupils/other teachers/mentor) and my uveitis hasn't been affecting me for nearly two weeks now... score. Slightly worried that this new-found good mood is partly to do with end-of-term, but let's enjoy it for now.

I've been given my second placement school! Haberdasher Aske's. Unfortunately not the horrendously posh independent boy's Haberdasher Aske's school to the North of London somewhere, the mixed-but-with-randomly-single-sex-lessons comprehensive in New Cross.

Looks nice doesn't it? That's just the front.

We've been to visit, one recent rainy Wednesday afternoon. I have to say I was slightly disappointed with my new school allocation, because the atmosphere of the school is quite weird. Main things which concern me are;

• They have an on-site primary school. With little-'uns running around with the big-ugly-'uns. I just have images of tiny squashed 5-year-olds all along the corridor walls.
• The school is based on multiple campuses. Which are linked by a bus. Which I've been told is not always reliable. And pupils frequently turn up to lessons 30 minutes late as a result.
• Some of the buildings look like old primary schools, with horrible cramped rooms, and dark, narrow corridors. And still with the old furniture. I saw a Year 10 sitting on this tiny fucking chair scrunched over a miniature desk doing a detention. Perhaps that's what those rooms are reserved for.
• The school is mixed, but they split their lessons into all-boys and all-girls. Which doesn't concern me too much, will just have to see how that goes. Please don't give me a Y10/11 class of bottom-set all boys. The girls are bad enough.

I'm sure I'll fail to keep a regular update of my second placement, but I'll make sure I write something at least. Must try and keep track of my teaching life and it's goings-on!

In other news, I booked my Numeracy Skills Test for Christmas Eve. I knew there was something occurring on the 24th but I couldn't remember what it was.

Merry Christmas all!

Truthfully...

So.

So much for keeping up my reflective journal of school-time, it's been more than a month since my last post... reason being it's been a pretty shit month. The post is called truthfully because truthfully...

I've been seriously considering giving up this PGCE. So seriously that I've applied for about 5 jobs which have nothing to do with teaching in any way shape or form. The reasons are plentiful, and I know they're valid because everyone else on the Maths PGCE has agreed with me;

1) The children are horrible. They have no qualms about saying "Miss this lesson is really boring" or "You're a shit teacher", and I'm sensing a 'blame culture' which has resulted in everything being the teacher's fault. If a pupil does badly in a test, even if the rest of the class did well, it's the teacher's fault. "I wasn't taught properly...". Pupils (particularly my Year 10's) refuse to work if the lesson isn't 'fun'. Which brings me nicely on to  my next reason.

2) There has to be a big song and dance in every lesson. Thinking about Maths in particular, if pupils have to work through questions from a textbook for a lesson, it's not a 'fun' lesson and they therefore aren't being taught properly.

Well I'm sorry. Sorry that there's no colourful puzzle to fill in, no exciting little activity for you to faff around with for 50 minutes while I desperately try and get you to do some mathematical thinking. But if you're going to sit a 2-hour Maths GCSE exam in June and get at least a C, you're going to have to develop some sort of discipline to sit and actually do some Mathematics. Because really, that's a vital skill you need for Maths; to be able to patiently work through problems, going along carefully and usually for long periods of time. How do you think Andrew Wiles proved Fermat's Last Theorem? Sitting around on his arse waiting for someone to show him how to do it? With a colourful presentation, and pretty little pictures and boxes to tick?

Cor. Haven't had a good rant like that in ages. Next point;

3) I, personally, am trying to run like the wind before I can even pull myself up on two feet. I've always been like this; I hated being shown how to do something, I always wanted to just get on and do the fucking thing. But I'm now realising with this that I've just made things much harder for myself, and I'm actually slowing down and asking for help. Which is always good.

4) I think I'll make this the last point, since I've talked about it already in my last blog. The total and utter hopelessness and futile attempts at lesson planning. I've been spending (as I've said before) about 2-3 hours on each lesson I teach. And that's 9 lessons a week (when it's not disrupted by some shit like Target Setting Day or International Dress Day) so mathematically that's 18-27 hours a week of planning. On top of the 36 hours spent at school/IoE. And it always turns out that what you've done is shit. You think it's great! Look, here's a great graph I spent ages creating from scratch. But no. It is shit.

Also I've only got one working eye, and a shitty laptop which corrupted all my hard work. Although one of those problems has been sorted now, through some kindly and most timely financial assistance. Unfortunately my eye's still squonk, and has been for about a month now. I've been commenting that it's hard enough to keep control of a class with two functional eyes, let alone one. Ideally I'd have three, but that won't be happening any time soon.

Anyway. Today's been the first day I've not felt like staying in bed crying, in over a month. So I feel I must record this day, and refer back to it when the real hard work starts after Christmas... I think it was mainly down to a Year 10 lesson I took today. You know, the class with Shania* in.

The class didn't start well. With my Title, Date and Lesson Objective ready to note down, Shania* and Melanie* entered the lesson having just had a fight, and about 3 seconds after entering the classroom Melanie stormed out, commenting "I'm not staying in a classroom with that fucking prick." I couldn't run after her and leave the class, but luckily another class teacher had spotted what had happened and rushed after Melanie to calm her down. That just left me with Shania and the rest of the class, at which point I thought 'Oh fuck' because I thought it would all kick off from that point.

But from observation, I know that Shania is actually extremely bright. She shouldn't be in set 7 Maths, but she's there only for her behavioural issues. When she actually managed to get stuff written down on paper, she finished her work before everybody else, got onto extension tasks, helped others (if somewhat brusquely; "WHY CAN'T YOU DO THIS SHIT MAN IT'S WELL EAAASSYYY") and contributed to class discussions. So I'm thinking I'm dealing with her in the right way - lots of other teachers seem to comment about her madness in their lessons most of the time, and she is always being put on report. As for the rest of the class, under my new-found stern manner, they were much better behaved and actually managed to pay attention when I asked. After about 3 minutes of stern instructions.

But crucially, this lesson has helped me actually see progress in my teaching skills, and some proof that actually not everything I'm doing is complete and utter bollocks. The pupils did inform me today that they hated Maths, but when the buzzer for lunch went off they said "Oh, is that the end already?!" which was something I really wanted to hear.

I think the only thing that's stopped me from going insane and emigrating to Wales (again) is the fact that, once I'm up in front of a class teaching, I absolutely love it. It's so good to see pupils go "OOOOH that's so obvious now!" and to watch them all follow my instructions and get on with some work under my direction. I am quite bossy after all... and when they're engaged in the lesson, you get a real buzz from it. I think it's just all the other stuff that's happened, around the teaching, that's got me down recently. I'm hoping from today it'll all be uphill from here!

I didn't realise lesson planning was so hard.

I think this will just be a short one - the point I'm making is self-evident in the title really.

So at Norbury Manor, there are 16 student teachers. Yes, 16. We've pretty much invaded the staff room, with our enormous cafetiére and shared coffee mornings (I now know why teachers smell of coffee - without it teachers die), and also our stories about our first teaching experiences. But, we two in the Maths department (Caroline and I) have been feeling slightly left out, in that most of the ST's in other subjects have taken over their given classes already. I was thinking it might be to do with the nature of Maths, that you can't really chop and change too much with the topics you're teaching - you can't teach 'Equations' before you've taught 'Algebra' for example. But I've been there for three weeks now and I'm getting a little bit bored of just observing.

So I mentioned it in my mentor meeting, that I'd quite like to get stuck in and start teaching. Personally I quite like being chucked in at the deep end and told to get on with it, something about the pressure of it. Might also explain why I preferred exams to coursework. So we've been given a nice little folder with the pupils' scheme of work in, and told to start preparing some lessons to give before half term, with the aim of taking full responsibility for classes after half term (one week to go!)

So I read the advice from the IoE regarding lesson planning. It says that, initially, planning for an hour lesson will take us 2-3 hours. This was my expression at first;

But it actually does.

You have to think about, and plan for, many different scenarios apart from the actual teaching of the subject itself. What pupils might struggle with. If any pupils in the class will need extra support. How long certain tasks will take. Extra provision for those really nerdy kids that finish really quickly. Also continuous assessment is a big thing at the moment.

Next to every task or activity you set, you have to explain how you are going to assess the pupils' learning, and whether they have learnt anything from you in the measly 50 minutes you have with them. Mini whiteboards are bloody great.

So this is a Year 7 class 2 times a week, a Year 8 class 3 times a week, and my wonderful Year 10 bottom set 4 times a week. That's 9 classes a week, and I just know that proper teachers are thinking 'That's nothing...' But they've got bare skills (yes, I'm down with the kids) in lesson planning, some saying they plan lessons in their heads. Except when Ofsted pay a visit. 

So in conclusion, I started my lesson plans for Year 8 'Pie Charts' and Year 7 'Angles' at 7.45pm tonight. I started writing this blog post at 11.23pm. And they're not finished yet. 

The day Shania* was in a REALLY bad mood...

I know every teacher's dream is to teach a class which is completely compliant, hard-working and amiable, but actually this is not my dream, as a student teacher. It's soooo boooring observing a lesson where no pupil is out of place, no pupil needs help because they all know how to listen and follow instructions, and no pupil wants to talk to you because they're too busy working. I just end up looking like a nuisance, as much use as a fridge in an igloo.

I have to say I'm loving the more challenging classes, the ones who act up and seem like they are impossible to control. I admit to being only ever so slightly dismayed after being timetabled to take over a bottom-set GCSE class ("WHYYY?" I recall myself saying) who will, at best, get a C in GCSE Maths. But I think they are actually the most interesting.

Firstly, they're so easily distracted. If they are upset or roused, it will take the rest of the lesson to restore a good working atmosphere which isn't punctuated by song/dance/banter/friendly abuse/etc. Their usual teacher is so good for them; she's got glacial patience, never reacting to their bizarre mannerisms and is calm, clear, and concise. That is going to be my mantra for this class in particular - be calm, clear and concise.

Or just calm will work.

They also need a lot more pointers. They will not see that there are two triangles in this picture;

one with two sides of length x and a, and another with two sides of length x+y and a+b. Things need to be repeated again and again, using various approaches. But in the end, when they are actually engaged with the work, they are all perfectly capable.

One student in particular, who for confidential reasons I shall name Shania*, has a reputation around the school and the staff room for being an absolute nightmare. I can see why; she talks very, VERY loud and fast, is very intimidating, and has a really bad attitude problem. She goes like this a lot; "MmmmHMMMM" and huffs around the classroom like a tiny bad-tempered elephant. I decided compile a small list of other things she said during today's double lesson;

"Don't even TALK to me today."

"Miss it smells like, rank in here today. I'ma put the fan on."

"I need some BARE sweets man, if no-one gives me none I'ma BUY them from the shop, you get me?"

... and so on. I was warned that she likes to test new teachers, and push the boundaries to see how far she can get. So then the conversation turned to me.

"Miss, what's your name?!"

"I'm called Miss Mitchell. What's your name?"

"I'm Shania innit. So are you like from Eastenders?"

at which point the rest of the class (Mean Girls style) said "Oh my God Shania you can't just ask people if they're from Eastenders." 

The conversation continued.

"Miss, where are you going for lunch?"

"Erm the staff room probably. Why is this relevant?"

"Because I want MacDonalds really badleee,  PLEASE will you go and get me some because I'm not allowed to leave the school and that because I'm like only in Year 10."

"No I'm sorry, I can't do that."

"Go on Miss, get me Nando's or sumfink!"

"Sorry Shania."

"Oh well FUCK you then!"

...

What I hadn't realised was that her regular teacher was out of the room at this point. Leaving me to react as I saw fit. Which was to give her my most incredulous, dangerous look and say;

"ExCUSE me?!" 

I was delighted to see her face crumple into shock when she realised I wasn't going to let THAT one go. Not in a million years. She proceeded to explain that she'd actually said it to her friend, who was trying to steal the £10 note out of her hand. I gave her a look which said "Don't even DARE saying anything like that in front of me again or I will kick yo' ass in front of the class", although I wouldn't really know how to go about that.

The point I'm trying to make is that even though on the face of it, they sound like the class from hell, they're such a good class to work with if you're in training. There's not such a terrible amount of pressure on you, so you can test out your teaching skills and approaches, and also test how you react to misbehaviour, and it won't matter too much if something doesn't work so well.  

I've also had the chance to have little chats with a few of them, which is encouraging. I had a really in-depth discussion with a pupil who was upset that she had been predicted an E in her GCSE Maths; she thought it was the by-all and end-all, but when I explained that it was the grade she would get if she continued to spend lessons asleep with her head on the desk, she started getting on with some work. The all-important C-grade, great motivator.

They feel like they can tell me about quite personal things, too, like their home-life and relationships with parents/guardians. It's really sad to hear that the latter is becoming quite common; it also explains a lot about their attitude at school. When you realise what some pupils have to deal with outside the already-stressful environment of school, it's hardly surprising they really just want to make their time at school as relaxing as possible. Which rather suits me in one sense. But it's very hard to get them focused and motivated. Especially last lesson on a Friday... *shudder* ... Nevertheless. I'm really looking forward to taking over this class.

PS: The picture of the Russian-hat-and-Persian-scarf-wearing shocked-looking woman above. It's actually me. And that's not even a joke.

I used my teacher voice today.

Yes. I finally got the chance to perform some disciplinary vocal maneuvers on some misbehaving Year 8 pupils today, which had been designated by Norbury Manor School as a 'Deep Learning Day'. This involved sitting in Ma4 with the same 30 Year 8's ALL DAY, and so no wonder the girls were getting slightly rowdy. I felt like putting someone in a headlock too.

That's what happened basically. Two girls were having (what looked like) a playful scrap (surely that's what should only happen at an all-boys' school? You'd be surprised at the things that go on in this school...) in the corridor, while making their way round the Maths department, looking at the others' work. The mathematics deep learning day involved building familiar structures out of different 3-D shapes, designing nets to form these shapes out of card and paper, and which were then presented at the end of the day. It was a really good day actually, not only due to the fact they need to know 3-D shapes for their exams, or that it improves spatial reasoning, but they had to be really organised, knowing how many of each shape they would need, and how big it would end up being. Lots in the hidden curriculum there...

Our group had 'London' as their designated theme. Others including 'Futuristic', 'Shanghai' and even 'Marioland'. I couldn't help but feel slightly cheated.

We were shown pictures for inspiration. Like;

and;

In reality, the kids' work looked like this;

It wasn't that bad really. But I digress. On their way around to view the other constructions, two girls managed to get each other in a headlock in the middle of the corridor. I just happened to come out of our room when confronted by this horrific scene of masculine demonstration.

I'm quite surprised that my instinctive reaction was the correct one; not screaming and shouting at the top of my voice, projecting an extremely low and threatening boom of a voice which spake thus;

"GIRLS. WHAT ARE YOU DOING? SHOULDN'T YOU BE IN YOUR DESIGNATED CLASSROOM?!"

This is just some photographic evidence of me being really angry and really mathematical and sexy all at the same time.

But in all seriousness, I've been worrying recently about me trying to implement the multitudes of teaching practices we've been instructed to do, whether I'll be able to remember everything and whether I'll look really foolish in front of everybody. But it was quite a boost in my confidence that my voice naturally went very stern, and that the perpetrators sprang apart immediately looking very sheepish.

Although this may be to do with the karate training I used to instruct. Or the fact that I'm naturally very bossy.

A new school...

Oh dear. It's been a while since I've written anything down, mainly because of the madness of moving house, gigs, a 2000-2500 word essay called an MCP and starting at a new school, all within a week! All of which have resulted in a slightly rotten cold... 'orrible germy children.

Not really. On Wednesday I started my 4-month placement at Norbury Manor Business and Enterprise College for Girls, and I have to say the pupils really are lovely. It reminds me quite a lot of my old school actually (Bexley Grammar School in Kent), with the exception that it's all girls (BGS's boys definitely made their presence known...) and that there is a much wider range of ability. In one day I observed a year 9 class who were already starting their GCSE work, to a Year 12 class who were having to resit their Maths GCSE and were still counting on their fingers.

I also made the error of coming into school in my nice grey suit and a blouse. True, it would have been worse were it the other way round (me coming into school in a tracksuit while the other teachers had on their tailored suits) but it was very odd seeing a Maths lesson taught by what looked like a PE teacher... at least now I know the appropriate dress code.

This is not it.

Thursday was pupil shadowing day. Meaning a volunteer Year 8 pupil (so tiny!) had agreed to take us around with them to all their lessons, just to get a better feel for the school and a better idea of a general school day for pupils. So yesterday I had ICT, Art, Maths (yay), Geography, Science and PE. Would have been quite a good day for me if I were back at school. Except for Maths.

You think I'm joking don't you...? I am really.

It was so lovely to see 'young ladies' (what we're supposed to call them) with such good manners. My shadowing pupil really made sure I felt looked after, assuring me she would take me to the staff room and pick me up again after lunch, and so on. I know the school's ethos works hard to promote this kind of behaviour, and that we must all lead by example as teachers. Therefore I must try and keep my South London voice under wraps at all times. I can see it now. "What do you mean 3 + -4 is 1? Shut it you shlaaaag..."

Once I get really stuck in next week I'll start doing some proper observations, rather than generic ramblings about the school. Although, one thing I was able to see yesterday was a pupil in a class with ADHD, and how she interacted with her learning assistant and others around her. At first I thought she had autism - in her Maths lesson, she seemed very calm and quiet, sitting doing a mid-term test, where everything was planned and structured. Then when it came to Science, is seemed there were a few things out of place, for example there being two student teachers (myself and my friend Lucy), a new teacher, and thus a different layout to the lesson.

I overheard some of her conversation with her learning support assistant at the back of the class.

"Miss where's Miss Crawford? I have to go and find her. She says her office is just next door to the staffroom. If I don't go and find her right now I have to go to West Croydon. Unless I can go and get her. NO I DON'T WANT TO SIT DOWN. I have to find Miss Crawford! If I don't find her I have to go and get the bus into West Croydon."

And so on. When she was finally coerced into sitting down, she became extremely disruptive, and started throwing pieces of paper around the classroom, shouting, and wandering around the room shouting at the others. It was shocking only because it was such a huge change from her Maths lesson two hours previously, in which we heard not a single peep from her. It just went to show how important having a well-structured lesson is, even more so when there are children with ADHD in your class. The picture above illustrates my worst nightmare as a teacher, but hopefully my lessons will be so good everyone will just want to get involved and not act up...

"Miss you look like Harry Potter... but a girl."

I was actually told this by a pupil today. When I said "What?!" He said "Yeah Miss, coz of your glasses and that, you look like Harry Potter but a girl."

... I need to get some new glasses.

In case you're wondering what I was doing talking to a pupil, a group of us spent the day at Langdon Park School in Poplar, observing lessons and talking to pupils and teachers, eventually getting onto leading a couple of activities in the afternoon (although I don't know what they were expecting from children at 3pm on a Thursday afternoon). The school is situated within a large Bangladeshi community; as a result about 80% of the pupils were Bangladeshi, many with English as a second language.

It was definitely an eye-opener for me - I've only ever had experience of grammar education, and I'm not saying that grammar kids are all 'cleverer', or 'posher' or whatever (because it's not true!) but you can definitely tell the difference in terms of their motivation for working, and their attitudes to learning. We were told that a very high proportion (they even went as far to say all) the pupils had some sort of issue at home, or issues which they were dealing with, and you can tell it greatly affects their learning.

The activities we were given to lead were exceptionally dull. I mean, really dull, so no wonder they couldn't really be bothered. Also we only had a fifteen minute slot, and all six of us were talking the activity in the same classroom. I think this is why the pupils felt they could mess around; they behaved just fine for their normal class teacher but saw our time with them as an opportunity to push the boundaries. And to ask really personal, stupid questions.

I worked with one particular student of self-proclaimed 'disadvantaged' Bangladeshi background, who took particular relish in asking me lots and lots and lots of these rapid-fire awkward questions. It was very amusing actually so I'd like to attempt to reconstruct the conversation as follows:

Pupil: "Miss are you English? Are you rich? Why are you here? Are you at University? If I go Uni will you help me wiv my tuition fees coz I'm like really poor innit. We don't get any food because we're really disadvantaged. I, like, live in a bin, and my friend lives in the bin next door, and we only get given rubbish and litter coz we don't get proper food. Have you ever played Call of Duty? Miss did you know there's a new Wii coming out? Have you got a son Miss? Are you married? When you get a husband and a son you should buy a Wii so that they can play Call of Duty on it. Miss I CAN'T DO THIS QUESTION. It's ruining my self-esteem. Do you support the Tory party? Or is it Labour? I know it's not Lib Dem coz you're at Uni and Nick Clegg sang that song about being really sorry for making you pay loads of money and that. Miss your glasses make you look like Harry Potter. But a girl. You look like a girl version of Harry Potter. Miss my friend's being racist because he's saying my mum works at Asda but actually she works at Sainsbury's. Miss I don't see the point of this can I go home now?"

Me: "..."

ALL of these things were said. I remember because 1) it was only about 3 hours ago and 2) I had to try so hard not to crack up. I can't wait to start my placement at Norbury Girls next week.