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.

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.