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.

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!