Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 19:25 Comments

I told my *other* tutor at North Brassington. The other tutor had observed me the week before and it wasn't great.

The students got a bit giddy at the idea of group work. Enjoyed it too much, lost concentration a bit too much. And I could tell there were gaps, issues, problems. Teething problems. *Aim & Objectives* needed to be clearer. More assessment. More observable, recordable outcomes. That's fine. That's nice, I know all that. I need to get better in those areas. Pretty blooming important areas, but my tutor gave me feedback, it was useful, I will regroup and live to fight another day.

But I told her. This time? This week? With my mentor watching? He saw things that I didn't. That my tutor didn't. That the students didn't.

2 hours of - what looked like learning - what looked like enjoyment all round. Friendly banter and some work. Could they have worked harder? They could. Could I have been slightly more organised? I could have been. I stretched out the middle section of the lesson too much, left the end to be set as homework. But the students didn't mind that. A2 - they're more likely to do homework, right? And hey, yeah, someone had their phone out, started texting - how dull - but I dealt with it. It was my first time with this class. I was trying to get a combination of being a b*stard & bonding. Set some standards of respect. But yeah, I'm learning, I need more skills and time on the job. For sure.....

Except

My mentor had an essay's worth of criticism ready for me after the lesson. A big ole list of faults. It was like taking your beloved Mini Cooper to have its MOT. It seems to be running fine - sure, you know it's not perfect - but you're not expecting such a savagely clinical depiction of all its faults.

You were so happy only 3 minutes ago. Now you feel like crying.

Factually, sure, hard to argue with the expert. You can have some differences of opinion & interpretation, but it's not your place to argue the toss. Cos he'll tell you that he knows what's what. So whatever you say is pretty much meaningless. There's only one qualified mechanic/teacher in the room - and it ain't you, buddy boy. So take what's dished out and suck it up.

It seems that this is how you get better. How you gain knowledge. By getting broken down week after week. In clinical point-by-point detail. Cheers... mate.

He started off with, "Well they seemed to enjoy it..." That was the praise bit of my 'Praise Sandwich'. Then it was on to the meat..... funnily enough, I don't seem to remember there being a top layer of praise on the sandwich. It was more of an open sandwich. Not that I am in the least bit bitter. Ummm. I'm learning. I deserve to be slapped about with *constructive* criticism. That's how I learn. That's how I get better. I have to keep remembering that. Keep repeating it to myself.

And she said, "Well, I think we need to find you a new mentor."

The right advice? Is it possible? Can you change? Isn't this like dropping out? Will I be a terrible person if I do? Will I be a failure? Should I? Should I try harder? Is it all just too hard?

Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 02:48 Comments

So as I lay in bed last night not sleeping, but not crying, but not happy, I thought that rationally there are 3 paths forward.

1. Give up completely on this stupid teaching idea.
2. Tell Bev what I think about his mentorship and find a new college to teach at. Ha.
3. Try and just carry on.

I must admit I was tempted to put option 3 as - find someone else at Porringo to teach with - find a different subject to teach. Sociology? I.T.? English is surely done to death. It's all misery round here, I'm afraid.

I will now reflect on the A2 lesson.

Cohort = a surprisingly bright bunch, too chatty, split between Asian guys and generally white girls and a couple of not very attentive Asian girls. About 15 in the class, I'd say. All the usual 17-19 years of age.

General thoughts = My lesson plan was well thought out, I had almost planned to not finish it - I don't know how *proper* that is, but I wasn't entirely sure of the timing so I put in more work than could ever hope to be done. As Bev had said, 2 hours isn't long enough to do a full mock-exam including a writing exercise and a commentary. It wasn't, especially as we took longer than expected going through a questionaire I had devised at the beginning. Bev had told me that I would need to read everything out and go through everything & that ended up taking up more time as well. I feel that when he gives me this sort of last minute advice or suggestions for changing the lesson plan, I should take it on board and try to do some change to my plans. It seems a) polite, b) that he knows what he's talking about & c) his passive-aggressive commentary suggests that if I don't do as I'm told I'll simply fail. Thanks Simon Cowell, you've been a great help.

Topic = Advertising again. As I had the material (the photocopied holiday brochure from the GCSE class a couple of months ago). I used the course book to come up with a list of linguistic terms and set that as an exercise. Oh, I'm flagging here on writing this. I don't have the energy any more. The motivation. Let's just say - that then a creative reimagining of a different advertising thing. That's all. I thought it was useful. I'd used some of the material last year with an A2 language class. Was the lesson perfect? No, I doubt it, but no one complained. And actually, I had learnt from mistakes there and improved on it.

Effectiveness of teaching, training and learning = There was overall enjoyment and a great deal of new points came out in the discussion. There was too much chitter-chatter from the girls - but having seen Bev's session with them I wasn't too displeased as they weren't as bad as they were with him. Ha. Little did I know.

Ok. Stop a second. One of his later criticisms was that "Carly was texting all the time." I caught her with her phone, told her not to do it, told her to put it away. I didn't scream at her, but I never saw her do it again. So maybe she was doing it behind my back. If I don't see it, how can I be blamed for that? If I had seen someone texting in his lesson, I would have told them to stop. Not saved it till the end. And if I told him - it'd be in the sense - "By the way - Carly was texting - you need to have a word with her." Not. "She was texting. That's your fault, that is."

..........................................................................................

There has been no swearing in this blog yet. But put some in there. Consonant, vowel, consonant, consonant. And add a "you!" on the end. Thanks.

I can't carry on going through this lesson as I'm too emotionally wrought.

It was good, I thought. It wasn't perfect. I will never be perfect. I went with the flow of the lesson so the plan didn't get completely finished. I'll skip to the meat of the *praise sandwich*.

Working with your Tutor/Mentor: do you agree with the feedback from the observer?

"Well they enjoyed it..." Thanks, Bev. Thanks. And you didn't enjoy any of it. Any of it that wasn't exactly like you would do. "I don't want to say you've got to teach like me. I'm not going to criticise another teacher's teaching style..." Hang on, isn't that exactly what you are doing?

• The timing wasn't perfect.
• The students didn't do enough writing
• Someone was texting and there was chatter
• It wasn't a high enough level for them
• You need to read everything out because they're (conversely to the previous) not bright enough to understand it unless you read it out.
• The Asian lads in particular won't understand it.
• Then it's just a fog of me nodding and taking it.

Not fighting back. Other than the occasional, "I don't want to disagree but... " I don't think anyone can say I was confrontational. Apart from my face which was probably a mix of horror and confusion. And sadness and through in a bit of despair.

Constructive comments for development?

You know, there were. There are areas for improvement, but I give me a C+ or even a B- for that class. My first time teaching them. He gave me a fail. An outright fail. Wrong after wrong after wrong.

If it was right - technically, I'll tell you what - it wasn't NICE. It didn't feel NICE. It just wasn't KIND. Perhaps that's my problem. I didn't realise I entered such a bad ass world. Perhaps I can retire and become a stockbroker. Something less prone to harsh criticism. Or a social worker. Hmmm. I've not started and I want to give up. Ba.

Final reflection = To have to just sit there and listen to that level of *criticism*. In my mind it's just - *take that shit* was not good or healthy for me. And definitely not normal. Not that I haven't taken criticism in my time, but I'm usually considered to be quite good at the things I do. I try. I put the work in, I have some talents. It's not usually an unrelenting pile of ordure being poured over my head. Of course, I'm sure an unbiased observer wouldn't see it like that, so that's my problem. His points had validity - but it still comes down to me feeling this bad. Not enjoying. Not wanting to continue and not seeing how I usefully can continue. Where are the gaps in the GCSE curriculum for me to fit into? Where are the gaps in the A2 curriculum if I am not to be trusted so close to *exam time*. And it's always exam time.

Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 12:35 Comments

I am not a picture of optimism today. After yesterday (short whine follows in this post and no doubt in more depth in the next one). I don't get paid for teaching but I did spend all day at the college yesterday. In the morning - we ran out of time I never got to teach.

In the afternoon I did. And had a bright 45 seconds afterwards, before my mentor said (faint praise sandwich) "Well they seemed to enjoy that..." I'm not sure he even bothered with a but before he started to weigh in. All the ways I failed. Bla bla bla. 25 minutes later i wasn't crying (this time) but I don't think I can carry on working with him. Which leaves me in an invidious position - as I'm not sure I have any choice at this time of year. And yet, he clearly doesn't trust me to do any teaching bla bla.

Whinge. I am really not happy. It isn't working out it seems to me. I need to speak to my college people today by email and tomorrow in person. I'm sure it will work out fine. But I do need to write it all down in terrible detail to get it out of my head. I'm not enjoying this lying in bed staring at the ceiling thing. This black hole, endless helpless deathly wanting-to-give-up thinking. I am either unusually sensitive (probably) or he is unusually unsensitive (probably) - or both - which is the worst combination possible. Hey ho.

I had my observation 3 weeks ago. Bev only came in to log me back onto YouTube as he'd unwittingly logged me out of his account by logging on in the staff room. He did, of course, in that moment of confusion garner enough information to give me some deconstructive commentary about how the class had, 'seemed out of control'. Yeh, well welcome to the world of the trainee teacher, buddy. No, scratch that, *buddy* - even ironically - I think I've fallen out of dislike here and into a hate position. I'm close to loathing.

So since then: my subject - non-fiction media has been ignored in the GCSE classes and we have concentrated on the book he is teaching. Stupidly the students have been asked to write two essays at once - his and mine - and his has had the priority. At the end of another class where all I did was mark some essays and talk to pupils about (mainly) his essays, there were sniggers when I said I wanted the rest of the essays in by next week. If my mentor, Bev, is happy to forget about my essay, my teaching - me in general - then why shouldn't they? I don't blame them. Beta male - 2nd division teaching assistant.

All of this after he had asked me to prepare a presentation on his book - "Just 15 minutes to give them a fresh perspective." He then changed that idea 30 minutes before the lesson started, "You don't have to do this if you don't want to, but could you prepare something on the scene where xxx meets yyy. That would be really useful." So I did as I was asked, I worked out an overview, I pulled out quotes. I continued with it as he started to teach his lesson. Then it got to break time and he continued. So I started just marking essays. I fed back to some of the students. Their essays are not great. After all his many lectures, not much is feeding through to them. Like with my essay on media, I want to see what they're doing individually and make sure they understand what they should be doing. All this board lecturing, it's not making any difference.

So that leads us up to the afternoon. Well after an interminable 2.5 hours mooching around the staff room and going for a walk. Bev doesn't exactly invite me into his lunchtime world. At break time he goes and sits down next to his mates. I'm not exactly welcomed in with open arms. Heck, I can be shy, I can be stand-offish. I'm not the greatest person, but I'm getting a rum deal here.

So the next post - is the afternoon. A2 English, what fun!

Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 12:08 Comments

Teachers have a methodology (always with the -ologies - oy vey!) for giving *constructive* criticism. They call the method, giving a student a *Praise Sandwich*. Yumm yum, can I have mine with extra mayo, to go, thanks. No really. Can I just have a bread sandwich? No filler thanks. I kinda know what's in there and I'd kinda just not have it. I'm kinda allergic? So... if that's okay with you? Yeh? Just the bread for me, ta.

Because whilst I don't mind givin em out (praise sandwiches) I'm less good at receiving them. And also, in all to goodness honesty, some people are less good at giving them out. Some people, like when they're making sandwiches think that rather than waste too much good bread, it's better to pile on the filling, top it up, get your money's worth in there.

But let's just pause a second and make sure we're all together here on the terminology:

praise sandwich

n. criticism prefaced by and followed by compliments.

here's the reality of the praise sandwich as interpreted by my curmudgeonly nature:It's not just that if someone uses that technique with me, I don't see a praise sandwich.

I see someone trying to feed me a shit butty. And I'm not best pleased about.

They may have a smile on their face, but I can smell it, dude. Especially if you're using virtually no bread here. That's hardly a Ryvita's worth. You'd get more bread on a wheat-free diet.

The praise at the front is a faint smile; the praise at the end is a faint well done.

In the middle? Well let's concentrate on what we're here to do. Criticism, right? Yeah, let's get to the meat-of-the-matter. Meat-of-the-matter piled up like bacon at an All-You-Can-Eat-Breakfast.

Immature. I must be. Negative.It's more... to me it's like a turd sprinkled with hundreds and thousands, on a lovely little bed of chocolate buttons. Yeh, thanks for that. It's still a poo and I don't want to even look at it thanks.

see once you know it's a *technique* is it even worth bothering with? It might work great with unwitting schoolkids and youthful types who are a) used to getting feedback & b) don't actually listen anyway - but try it with the next person you meet. On second thoughts, I wouldn't.

Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 18:09 Comments

I worry this year. So much more than last year. Last year I worked with students doing University access courses and that was fine. They were responsive, they asked intelligent questions and they were always weirdly impressed by my teaching. They weren't used to getting taught they told me. They were usually left to do *their own thing*; research stuff, write essays, do presentations. It was about learning to work in a style suitable for university. Whatever it was they had to do, they were enthusiastic and willing. The same applied to the GCSE English Lit students at *that* college. Enthusiastic, capable of giant leaps of thinking once they got going; not afraid to take up bold positions and then attempt to justify their thoughts with evidence from the poem or novel.

It felt good. My mentor (last year) was impressed with my hard worked lesson plans, my knowledge of IT and all the rest of it. She actually started to appreciate that I might be of some use - rather than being in the way - which was how she thought of me when I first arrived like an orphan on the doorstep. In the early weeks she tended to regard me as a walking pile of extra paperwork. Best dealt with if I was pushed to one side and left for another day. I did a lot of *observing* & a little bit of "do you want to do ten minutes at the end?" After she had usefully covered all the main points and the students were tired out.

I'm not actually whining. It's just that that pattern is at times repeating itself this year. My mentor has problems letting go, probably has problems trusting the less experienced teacher to usefully go through things. Expands his section of the lesson so that my topic area gets pushed out. I'm starting to feel like the step-child at the wedding. The spare part again. And the reason I worry more is that I'm not sure we're getting closer to *acceptance* of my value.

It's lunchtime now and I've spent the morning watching again, which is nice, but as someone who is learnng to teach part-time and has other things to do with his life, it would be more useful if I could get involved more. Plus, I have to fulfill my minimum hours and submit a statutuary number of completed lesson plans. I don't want to have to *fudge* the figures at the end of the year.

I am actually whining. O dear. A thousand apologies. I have A2 English this afternoon so I will actually be taking the lesson. Or that's the plan anyway. It might be easier if my mentor wasn't in the room but he can't let go at the moment. I don't want to fight and I don't know this other group that well so I'll let him stay. But trying to teach and discipline a class whilst your mentor is sitting behind you in the corner is a bit like being a teenager at a disco (with their dad sat in the corner covertly watching and frowning). It doesn't exactly give you a massive amount of freedom or confidence, but I suppose that's the point. The parent / mentor isn't ready to let me dance / teach like no one is watching just yet. They're afraid that I'll end up falling flat on my face. But you have to fail in order to learn. Like Sam Beckett says, "Fail, fail again, fail better." or words to that effect...

Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 15:04 Comments

I can't wait to have all those letters after my name. I guess I'm halfway there as I'm in the 2nd year of my part-time course. I'm a qualified assistant now, for what it's worth. Now I just need to tick off the rest of the assignments, the 2nd portfolio of evidence, the statuary hours, the LLUK standards, the level 2 tests in literacy and numeracy...... oh. I've depressed myself now. One day at a time. None of it is *that* hard, it's just a grind sometimes. It's a bit like school at times.

;0)

Sorry, I just felt the need for a childish mildly ironic smiley there. Not that I will ever actually be going back to school as I'll only be qualified to teach at 16+ level, but that's okay with me. That was always my aim, I've come into teaching after working in the so-called *real world*.

(God I almost wrote 'come into teaching later in life' - how depressing does that sound? - but then at *cough, cough* 41 - so I guess I am potentially twice the age of some student teachers. O well...)

So bearing all of that in mind it's actually quite nice and useful to be learning with a mixed group of people most of whom are already teaching at local FE colleges. People that had the relevant skills first & and a desire to teach later. On my course there are experts in the following disciplines: drumming, hairdressing, mechanics, joinery, French, nursing, travel & tourism, art, IT, childcare, psychology & plumbing/gas fitting.

If I ever need to hold a party in a dilapidated house in rural France - this would be the GO-To-Team.

But I'll admit I did think: how the heckers like am I gonna learn how to be an Ingerlish Teacher amongst this lot? Really. I was well miffed. For much of the first year as we went through Maslow, Schemes of Work, Learning Styles... all the basics. How relevant is this to my life of telling Johnny Briscow to sit down and get on with his work?

"Johnny, I don't want to have to tell you again, please let go of Ralph's neck and sit down. Thank you."

But y'know. Over time. I got convinced. Here I had a resource of *common sense* practical and intelligent people who had 'been there and done that'. And group behaviours are cross-transferable - and the hairdressing teacher is pretty incredible, I have to say. Pshaw, I thought! Hairdressing!? Really? But the stories of coping with 14-19 year old learners that have been kicked out of more academic lessons and then teaching them how to use curling tongs - someone should make a film about it.

See this week we were studying the *Hidden Curriculum*. There's a lot of socialisation and aspects of learning that none of us consciously think about. We learn without realising, but once we do realise, well, then it's time to lap up as much knowledge as you can. I need to spend the rest of this year draining these experts of all their interesting lesson plans and behaviour management techniques. In return I'll give them my advice on comma use. Fair swap, I'd say.

Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 16:14 Comments

So this was my inspiration. A clever looking lecturer at the local university, scratching impossible equations on a blackboard and all the students looking forward and seeming to concentrate. It's an open plan glass classroom, almost inviting passers-by to watch and stare. So I did, and came back the next day to take a photo. Chalk! Straight rows of chairs. Old Skool. Back to the future. I tried it and it worked(ish).

Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 14:19 Comments

The class from Hell: Part Two - this time it's serious.

Very serious. Organised. Up at 7. On my bike. At Porringo by 8.20. Sorting out the desks into rows.

Introducing myself. Moving them about. Trying to get their names right (getting a few wrong - in embarrassing ways - umm, the two Somali girls in headscarves - I got them mixed up - how wrong is that? Very? Or not much? I'm not sure...).

Then on to the agreement. What they needed to do: respect; not talking at the same time; not texting; getting there on time. 

Is there anything else they want to add? Listening to music. O, well, not planned but if you're doing an essay and we're not having a discussion - why not? I don't know what the Porringo rules are - but I'll give them that if they'll be nice to me. And it is very quiet so far...

Moving on - the two adverts - let's be honest - it went well. 

Bev was out of the room, that was important. And it felt like I was in charge. It felt like I knew what I was doing - and this was real now. This was the GCSE coursework here. They had to do this. And they did.

A blur. My voice went hoarse. Some complaints about not being able to sit with their mates. I was firm and said no. One lad moved at half time and sat next to a girl. I let him. As it was a gender mix. I was accused of 'favouritism' by Xaf cos he wasn't allowed to have his mate next to him.

However, the loud and silly lad - who I'm going to call Rushdie - wouldn't stop his chitter chatter. He's a 'lovely lad' but daft as a brush. I ended up having to move him again. Second week on the run. He's a front row boy from now on I think.

I may have found my inner teacher and he is an orderly, harsh man. Jokes but work. Get the work done now relax later.

Although, we got to the last 15 minutes and writing needed to be done by the students. One of the girls, Henrietta, piped up and said - so can we listen to music now. Umm. I had planned on that being allowed only if they were writing an essay, but it seemed appropriate and they were quiet - apart from the tic-tic-boom-boom of many little headphone speakers.

Success!!!!

Then Bev came back in at the end. And all reverted to normal. Xaf wouldn't shut up. It was all about male ego - Bev joking with him. Everyone else ignored. Like a comedy double act.

I sat back and had nothing to do with it (apart from telling Rushdie to shut up....)

A difference of opinion then. Let's see if I can keep it up next week. Here's hoping.....

Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 21:30 Comments

So there was a time when I wote very long reviews on this blog. But now it's time for txt msg length reviews. I've read many (okay, I've skimmed a few - but yeah, read, read, read - that's me, I'm a reader).

First up: Creative Writing - I'm a sucker for the old creative writing guides. Just to steal ideas. 

So this one: The Right To Write by Julia Cameron. Well, I did make some notes. She has some good old fashioned starting off exercises. Fairly general but nice. But not exactly essential reading. It's kinda hippyish. It's find your inner arty Buddha beauty - writing down the bones kinda deal. Mawwh. I give it a 2/5. (It's tres popular on Amazon).

Chris Kyriacou's Essential Teaching Skills

This is a fairly unpretentious guide. Well worth a read at only 146 pages-ish. Lots of 'common sense'. I liked it though I'm not going crazy. But notes were taken. I'm a bit of an obsessive about 'what the heck am I supposed to do in the classroom, though?' I want more actual stories though, like Sue Cowley offers and, I suppose, Frank McCourt offered in Teacher Man. So very theoretical but not many pages, which is a good thing. And not too much of this 'learning theory' nonsense. Ahem.. I give it 3/5.

Another Sue Cowley: 'Getting The Buggers to Think'.

O. Really disappointing really. After 'Behave' I had high hopes, but I think it's just not for me. It's much more aimed at younger pupils. I skimmed it, I'm afraid. Too many books, not enough interest and I felt I'd read the best bits before. Not that I'm in anyway dissing Ms Cowley - I would not dare! Just not the right book for my needs. 1/5. 

Next....

The Complete Guide to Becoming An English Teacher by Stephen Clarke

So, I had to love the title of this one. It offers so much. The book I dream off with all the answers. Err. Well, picked it and ordered it from the library sight unseen. I just liked the title. And in truth it does contain a lot of good stuff. Not entirely all relevant and lots of exercises for trainee teachers to do - that I am never going to go near - but admirable in the main. A rubbish review but I think I've forgotten everything about it so it can't be that memorable. I liked the section on media - as that's my current problem/obsession. 3/5.

No more books for a while. I'm still working my way through Geoff Petty's Teaching Today which I've been 'reading' for the past year. It's good, but I find it tough going. In one ear, and asleep two minutes later... Ho hum...

Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 21:08 Comments

So my mind is still on the class from Hell...

This week's classes at North Brassington were quite laid back after the half-term break. Discussion in the morning and talk about the assignment on creating our own curriculum in the afternoon. 

Again: interesting enough. Why did I often get so bored by the first year and now it seems more interesting. Perhaps I find the theories very dry and want more discussion of the practical aspects and the current situation in Further Education. Hmmm. Or maybe I'm just getting into the idea of being a teacher. Maybe.

Again this morning we were talking about 'wrongness'. How wrong are certain things to do. That was okay. I'm far too praising these days.

Just forget about the practical thing. The actual teaching.

Cos theoretically I'm A GREAT TEACHER. My portfolio got a great mark. I'm just sunk as a REAL teacher. Though time is a healer. I don't feel as bad as I did last week. Hoo ha.................... Do my prep. Do my work. Hope it works out okay.

Good advice from the Sociology teacher and the Beauty Therapy teacher. Hurrah for them.

Women teachers are good at discipline I think. Less male ego to cope with. Less need for male students to go mano-a-mano? I wonder if that's official thought and theory.

 That women do it better?

I know a friend who used to work in a bookies and the guys losing money would want to fight him - really - he got attacked with a hammer. The middle aged women that worked there never got the same level of attack. They weren't a threat to the losers. It's a valid point, but I'm not sure anyone wants to hear it......

Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 21:55 Comments

Because, when you *fall off* the best thing to do is get right back on again. It hurts and you're scared but you've got to do it. Or so *they* say...

So my colleagues at North Brassington were very helpful last thursday (what day is it today?) with lots of advice. The Beauty Therapy teacher suggested getting the students to sign an agreement - what they will do - what elements are needed for a good lesson: paying attention, arriving on time, having respect for others. It sounds like a good idea.

It sounds a bit childish, but...

Also: splitting up the friend groups. 

Setting up the desks as formal - old school - literally *old school* desks - rows. Everyone facing forward - everyone where I can see them and in smaller groups. Not cliques.

And, what else?

Introduce myself. Don't hide the fact that I'm a *trainee* that I am going to be different to Bev. 

I'm even tempted to wear a tie. I want to go the whole Sidney Poitier. But I don't think I'll go that far.

I also need to arrive at least 45 minutes early. Just to be early. And make sure I have everything organised. It's all dull but I have to do it. 

Plus the main thing:

Get a good night's sleep. Be rested and don't get angry. Do not be John McCain. Be Barack Obama if you can't be as cool as Sidney Poitier. 

Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 02:28 Comments

So. The phrase "dark night of the soul" comes to mind. That would be the night before this lesson. I mean, hell yeah, I had prepared. I had a plan. Was it a good plan - well it was an improved version of a lesson that was passively accepted by students at Nincomport College last year. Y'know, that widely reviled place that looks like a warehouse. The place where one innocent Thursday there was a big patch of red outside the English secretary's office: "Oh, that. Someone just got stabbed. It is a bit of a mess." Err, yeah. It is.

And now here we are at high achieving religious 6th formers only (no mature students here!) Porringo College. And let's be honest - not the worst lesson ever. Not the worst behaving class ever. No one tried to stab me. Honestly, honestly - the most depressing thing was the review with Bev afterwards. I had tears in my eyes - and I never cry. What are they tears off - well, despair, anger - not much really - hopelessness, self-pity. I really want to give up. I went to a friend's house afterwards and wanted to argue. Just so I could be right for once. Having just spent 20 minutes having my faults and issues outlined in great detail.

The lesson

I arrived 5 minutes before, sweaty from my bike ride, getting severe stares from the HOD and Bev. NOT acceptable. Hmmm. I got there on time, didn't I? Did they not realise how hard I cycled. And it was cold...... oh never mind. As it says in some teaching book: listen and consider any excuses and then ignore them. They have obviously read that book. Blah.

General thoughts

I was not feeling confident. I almost had too much material to go at. I was tempted to skim. It was to prove to be a bad idea. Do the hard yards. Get that done and move on. Perhaps I was aware that this was not an exam level lesson we were doing. This was practice for next week. BUT ALSO - I'M NOT ENTIRELY CONFIDENT about this subject. I'm making it up! I'm guessing! I'm downloading lesson plans and info from everywhere. I was up late finding more info on media analysis: genre, tone, audience, layout, parts of speech..........zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

I'd rather be teaching I.T. 

Severely lacking in passion for the subject. Anyway.... onwards.

Comparing two adverts. Big and lovely and colourful they were - but one appealed to young people the other didn't. And they struggled with that. Cos they couldn't differentiate between what they liked and what they didn't. "That's just boring."

Did they learn anything?

It felt a bit out of control really. Just too much shouting and laughing. All good humoured but not like a 'proper' lesson. A bit random. And people text messaging when asked not to. When I was standing next to them. Headphones round the neck. Then on the ears when you turn away. One set chat so the other group chat.

I wanted the quiet ones to speak but they never got the chance. It was Bev's lessons +. And he was still sitting there in the corner. So they could ask him questions. It made me feel like I wasn't capable. Like I really was a trainee wearing stabilisers. Hmmm. Not good. I could just moan but that's all I've got right now.

Xaf was just unstoppable. I spent so much time keeping him quiet and answering his questions that everyone else was left to their own devices. I had to move one of his friends (the texting one). It was shambolic. It was GIVE UP time. It was I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS ANY MORE time.

Then I went round to a friend's house - I got a flat tyre on the way there! - could I feel any more sorry for myself?

Answer, no.

And argued with her. Cos I wanted to argue. Cos I had my post-lesson feedback session with Bev and he gave me lots of pointers. Most of it valid - about making things simple and using modelling of answers (which ties in with the re-takes - teacher helping with answers thing, I think - if that isn't too controversial). Basically you have to do it.

And while he was telling me all the things I was doing wrong, I had a tear in my eye. I did actually cry. I'd been worrying beforehand and slept less than 2 hours. Afterwards I cried. And argued.

Not good.

It may be a learning curve, but it felt like a jumping off the cliff moment. Damn and more damn.  

I'm not sure if I can do any better. I'm not sure if I have any more. I don't like the subject. GCSE English is dull. I don't know much about linguistics etc - well, next to nothing. Hmmm. The end...

Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 01:31 Comments

The first week back on the bike & I managed it, despite my ongoing (unnamed) physical pain issues. Great, that makes me sound like I have something really terrible wrong with me. I sort of do. But obviously, it's not terribly, it's just long-lastingly bla bla. Shut up. Cycled to college. The only excuse for the picture ----->>>>>>>>>>>>>

Well other than for later discussions that revolve around what *bad things* you have seen other students or teachers do during your own time as a student-teacher. One male - who we'll call the Plumbing Teacher - told of a time when his mentor threw a 15 year old out of the workshop - grabbed him by his throat and slung him out.

"Now, I'm not defending him but he had to do something. He did deserve it. I'm not defending him, but, it taught him a lesson." Hmmm. I won't go on. I disagreed.
Plumbing Teacher: "I believe in capital punishment in schools." He later admitted that was a mistake, but he does believe in hanging anyway, so why not bring it in in schools? It may be the discipline solution we need.

In the afternoon we had to present in a fantasy scenario where we split into little groups to represent various interest bodies within teaching: managers, teachers, students, politicians - well that sort of thing. Me and the Dance Teacher represented teachers. I couldn't help thinking that they want ultimate independance, but no paperwork, no one telling them what to do, lots of time to prepare, lessons where they decide what's right - and yet - it would be nice if someone else could prepare the lessons for them...

Lazy and irresponsible - or maybe that's just me. Power without Responsibility? I'll settle for that....

Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 01:30 Comments

I am going to try and stick to a fairly conventional formula with my actual lesson reflections. This week will be ultra formal just to try things out.

This was more or less my first week actually teaching so I was a little apprehensive, seeing how noisy they (the GCSE class) were last week when I was just assisting. But Bev's AS level class were also - I would suggest - slightly out of control. A bit too happy. I like to think I'm liberal but it was chaotic. I haven't blogged on that and it's too late now but I'll be meeting that group again and they were very lively, but at least there were more lively students - so you could play them against each other. With this group there is an ABSOLUTELY dominant male. He's witty, good looking, rebellious, intelligent and obviously, a total pain in the neck. He answers all the questions. Then answers them again irrelevantly and just wants limelight, limelight, limelight. I'm not sure Bev handles him perfectly. To be blunt, he needs to be made to shut up and to let someone else have a go. Too much time and effort is expended on him. I know his name - Xaf (obviously, as always, the name is changed) but am struggling to put names to faces - and pronounce some of the names. All of that is obvious first week stuff, of course. Now, to get to the formal lesson assessment. Ahem....

Effectiveness of teaching, training and learning
I was pretty well prepared. I actually cut my session down as it happened. One thing I think I'm struggling with is the level of the class. They're quite diverse: in background, language skills, ethnicity, amount of school work they've done previously. How much do I have to spell out for them & how much can I expect them to take in? The weird thing is that with Bev still being in the class and them being Bev's babies - I naturally took a laid back approach. Which I like to do - but there is a danger that they push that too far. We shall see...

So the actual presentation and handout went quite well. The exercise was well recieved, although it got a bit silly and I'm not sure I brought out the correct terms I was meant to get them to understand I we were meant to be criticizing media.

I feel like I need a big book that tells me all the answers. A playlist of lesson plans - not a very vague scheme of work - that already doesn't seem to apply to what we're doing. Help would be nice. I have no experience of this subject either as a student or a teacher so I do feel that I am sinking a little. And not sleeping much. Not ideal.

Did learners understand what they were to do? How well had you provided for the different needs of different learners? How did your timing of the lesson go?
The timing was okay cos I cut a lot. I think all learners understood the lesson, I'm not sure they understood - WHY - they were doing the lesson - what the overall point is. Not to stretch it too far, but, I'm not sure I understood either...

What were you most pleased with in terms of what you planned?
The exercise results - although Bev had much to say about how that might have been improved. Particularly by modeling answers for the students. Giving them choices but giving them examples at the same time. I get his point.

Achievement of Learners.
I think this one is moot so far. I'm not sure. I can't go into too much detail. Although, thinking about it, there was a lot of imaginative work done - and the more capable students did stretch the envelope and have fun with the idea of creating an ad campaign for some cheap watches. So yes, I shouldn't be too downhearted.

How will you support learners who did not achieve targets today?
I want to make sure that the quieter pupils, particularly the minority female cohort are involved. The seating arrangements ghettoise the students into their gender/racial groups. It keeps them safe and secure and lets them talk to each other more easily.

While I'm on the topic - what is the thing with headphones - one headphone in & I'm not gonna notice? You know who I mean, you two. And two people on their phones. I never had any of this at Nincomport College. And that is supposed to be rough. And yet... odd. I thought 6th form colleges were supposed to be big on behaviour. Well, it's only fun, but it's not good so far.

Worrying...

Targets for development
Pretty obvious at the moment: know more about the subject, feel more confident, better classroom control. Isn't that about everything.

Working with your Tutor/Mentor: do you agree with the feedback from the observer?
Ummm. I've almost forgotten what Bev said. I think I agree with his comments. Modelling is a good thing - but do modern teachers push it too far and spoon feed the answers? I'd be more comfortable with a higher ability group. Or that's how I feel right now. I want a group that will get my jokes and where I can discuss something interesting. I'm not enjoying the subject, so how can they? Problems.........

Next week: another challenge. Nowt more to say. Work to do....

Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 01:30 Comments

Back at North Brassington for more being-taught-to-be-a-teacher lessons. It was sunny but I was tired - tired - due to silly going to bed-late-ness.

This week we were team presenting umm presentations on various aspects of current Educational thinking. My team were presenting on Professor Frank Coffield's report on the future of Further Education. Before that we watched a presentation on Basic Skills - and I won't go into details because I want to be critical.

There seems to be a split in my class between those of us with little experience who are there to get the teaching qualification but also hope to learn something while we're there, and those that are already teaching in F.E. (nursing, plumbing, tourism, ESOL - vocational subjects mainly). These people are in some ways clearly the most experienced people, but also the most complainy and cynical.

"Don't ask any questions so we can go home early." We get told after dinner.

So everyone sits there in silence, bored, until we are allowed to go 30 minutes early. It's not liket the lessons are always interesting, or you feel like you've learnt very much, but isn't the point that as adults we should ask more and then we might get our questions answered and we might find the process a little bit more interesting? Perhaps I'm just the opposite of a cynic - which is not how I would normally describe myself.

If you do ask a question, they tut and mutter under their breath. Like you're a swot. Fancy caring. Idiot. It's a bit weird. It's like - is this how they want their own classes to behave. I know that exam passing is the main thing, but it doesn't have to be the only thing, does it? Can we not debate - or can we not have a debate that doesn't just decend into whining about paperwork & the quality of the whiteboard where you work?

Hmmm? How about that? I'm not just being a twat about it, they are nice people, it's just they particularly annoyed me this week.

First, the most (ask no questions) person - who gets paid quite a fair bit [I've just cut some more personal info, cos I want this to be anonymous] - she gave the first presentation. And I was struck by the thought: she's no better than she was at the start of last year. This is as dull as her *micro-teaching* assignment. She looks bored. She's going through the motions. Each slide has about a 100 words on it and she's just reading them off to us. It can be done better than that, surely - but she has got her style, her level & she's sticking with it. Disappointing.

Then on to my team's presentation. I tried to make it light hearted (and very quick - my bit anyway). The presentation by 4 people was meant to last 30 minutes, but one of our team had 31 slides and that seemed to last half of my life. The No Questions lady was texting during that anyway. And chatting to Ms Hard-Done-By.

Our actual tutor either didn't notice them or was too polite to bother. I saw them and was tempted to throw out a question to them. But really? They're not interested. They don't really need to know about Coffield's scepticism about Learning Styles.

But that's my rant. This was my last time of driving to North Brassington as the car is going as of Saturday so I'll be cycling there as the winter approaches. Which was nice last year. No it was, hopefully I'm over my injury and won't have any problems getting there or I'll be on a 3 buses journey every Thursday. Which won't be much fun.

Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 17:02 Comments

Okay, let's be thoroughly honest. I co-taught this one and it wasn't very exciting. The weird thing - or obvious thing was how the students were just a cacophany (if spelled right) of noise, all speaking at once.

Not good.

Not enjoying.

Do not like.

A little bit scary.

But this was Bev's lesson so I was mainly helping out. I'm going to leave this short.

They were analysing a piece of travelogue. Bev thought it was wonderfully well written. I thought it was pompous, untrue and dreary. Old man moaning and groaning. Bored me stupid. Sorry. The class were meant to be looking at parts of the language. They didn't get it much. I didn't blame them. Cue more random shouting out.

I'm not entirely sure what was going on. Why this was acceptable. I'm in *culture shock*.

Do not like. Do not want...

p.s. I discovered something new - re-sits. Everyone does re-sits. Even if they've got a C or B at AS Level. That is how the grades improve over time. People just keep handing in their modular course work again and again until the grades improve. And the same takes place at GCSE - student hands in a fairly rubbish essay - teacher suggests changes - student makes changes - hands it back - teacher suggests more changes - ad finitum until the student and teacher are bored. The only thing stopping everyone from getting A* is that the teacher isn't capable of getting an A* - I'm not, I'm sure - and the pupil might get bored by the process.

It seems odd and like a lot of work, but that is what it *seems* to be like in the modern world of Further Education. Or am I wrong?

Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 01:29 Comments

Wow. How really weird. I actually really enjoyed today. It's almost spooky. I asked questions about what the chuff EMA is and whether people think it's a good idea and got some answers. Not a single real perfect answer but then no one can really say if it's doing any good.

EMA  as described by Wikipedia: (Education Maintenance Allowance, a financial scheme for British students).

16-18 year olds get paid to go to college provided their parents are *poor* enough to fit into the following income groups:

"£30 per week for those whose household income is under £20,817 p.a.;
£20 per week for those whose household income is between £20,818 and £25,521 p.a.;
£10 per week for those whose household income is between £25,522 and £30,810 p.a.

"Additionally, bonus payments of £100 or £150 are available to students who are in receipt of EMA. These bonuses are available in January and July of the first and second year. A total of £400 extra money can be claimed in bonus payments over a maximum period of three years."

[from Wikipedia - and therefore probably true]

It must cost a fair amount of money to finance and obviously 18 months time when we get a change of government (almost certainly) it'll get canned.

Kids nowadays, eh? They don't know how lucky they are...

"The Conservative Party have stated their opposition to EMA. Conservative Party spokesman Chris Grayling said: "This is another blatant example of the government trying to fiddle the figures. Bribing young people to sign up for courses they may not complete, might make ministers' targets look achievable - but they do absolutely nothing to help solve this country's chronic skills shortage."

[from Wikipedia - and therefore probably true]

Well a number of the students who are currently teaching are certainly cynical about the scheme. Talking about kids who demand their EMA and only turn up in class to get an attendance mark. It helps some, probably; others just spend the money on new trainers. But then, everyone needs new trainers every now and again. But then these student/teachers are cynical about everything & I don't have the experience to contradict them or the arguments to support EMA so I'm torn. It would have been nice to have had it in my day, but I would have stayed on in any case as I didn't want to get a full-time job. And I had a part-time job stacking shelves to pay for my intake of alchohol (etc).

Verdict: the jury is out, but it may not matter as the Tories'll jack it in as one of their first proposals in power...

So yeah, some new stuff. Real life experiences. I quite like looking at trends in current education, it is less dry than learning theories and it's all very new. Going on right now. And yet most non-education people don't even know that EMA exists - as a for example. How many people know what a *phonic* is either? And do they need to know? Well, probably not.

Other than that we looked briefly at *Curriculum Models*. There are a number. It's good to know them but it seems unlikely you'd create a curriculum or scheme of work to fit to one. They're more like *reverse-engineered* models. *Stuff looks like this*.

The “Hidden curriculum” is an interesting idea. It's the stuff that gets learnt that isn't on the syllabus: social skills, political views maybe. Certainly I thought that if you're doing a Business Studies course, you're going to accept the idea that capitalism is good. In nursing: caring is good. Those are the fundamental underlying themes, no one has to spell them out - but they differ from course to course. Some promote competition, some suggest sharing is the best way. Also, going to a Public School might make you more likely to be able to behave well in social situations or job interviews. Bla bla bla - is the general thing. Interesting. I thought of boxing and the way they value respect & working hard; staying in, looking after your body. Not hitting people in *real life*. It made me think that boxing - bashing people in the face on purpose - might be a good thing. Hmmm.

Other than that: I listened to Ms Complainalot tell me about her problems & I had baked potato for my packed lunch. I sat outside in a park eating it. It was sunny. In a properly not needing a coat, needing sunglasses way. Almost weird.

Current mood: surprised!!! and surprisingly happy. (Note: it cannot last...)

Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 02:34 Comments

Okay so I didn't know until I got here but Bev is a male Bev. He's looks a bit like Ian Brown (okay, he doesn't but it'll do as a ballpark observation) & for the purposes of visualising him here. Him <<<----- Monkey Man in the red, on the right.

He has been lumbered with me and it felt a bit like it at first, but then teachers are notoriously withdrawn I find when anyone is observing them; they want to impress but they're afraid that they won't. Like artists. Hmmm. Or writers certainly. As a teacher you do tend to crave attention and praise. Like everyone does, pupils especially.

So I sat in on the chatty lesson & we basically read a very short novel that is on the GCSE syllabus. People more or less paid attention or at least sat there with their books open & Bev read and later, I read. Without going red. One of the students made a joke:

"Don't be scared."

"It's alright," I said, "I have read a book before."

Quite nasty really, but then he was trying to put me down and I don't have the authority of standing at the front and having everyone's attention so I just had to step up and say: hey, you're trying to get one over on me already... yah, forget that.  Anyway, I'm not exactly going to war with him but I did feel that this lad, we'll call him Xaf - cos that isn't anyone's name - other than an alien - will present a challenge. Him and the 3 females in the class who hidden over to one side not making any noise and ignored by Bev. He was concentrating on the louder, more obviously cheeky/naughty lads. So the girls could text and fall asleep.

It's amazing what you can see when you're sitting at the side of the room. Well it was a start and not too intimidating. Not too great really. But then they needed to read the book and I guess there's no other way to do it. There was an explanation/discussion of themes - which again I didn't think brought out the essence of the book but I didn't want to interfere. And challenge Bev's authority. Not good that wouldn't have been. The book had a sexual assault in it and of course the boys had opinions:

"He wants to get killed. That is wrong. If that happened to your sister. I would go round there. You gotta do your revenge, yeah? That is how it is."

Bev gave a sort of half-hearted shrug. He half-tried to resist but never really convinced. The boys won the argument & equally importantly, what kind of essay will they write if that is what they take away from this book? (It isn't a very good book, actually, but that's not that important I guess). I wanted to join the debate, but resisted. I wanted to say: Michael Jackson he may be a bad person now, but does that detract from his genius pop records from years ago? A person can be two things. The evil, the vile acts (or alleged & unproven acts in Jackson's case) don't detract from their other acts. A man can be a genius & a paedophile; a hard-worker & a thief. I think this idea should have been addressed. Maybe I want too much.

One thing: I have to get all my photocopying & lesson planning & materials done a week ahead so that they can go to reprographics. Ummm. I'm not good at being ahead. I'm more of a doing-my-homework-on-the-bus-in-the-morning kinda guy. Not sure about that.

So, at the moment: not much chemistry with Bev; not much enthusiasm for teaching English GCSE. I preferred the Engl Literature GCSE group at Nincomport College: at least they wanted to be there. And the course was more interesting. This book, is frankly, rubbish. Should I name it? Well it's by Robert Cormier. Heroes. There. I'm sure I'll stay anonymous.

Had chat with Bev afterwards > I am still trying to find my way at this college, it all still seems weird. Did have a little talk with Mr North (see his sort-of lookylikey: left <<<<------) Life seemed easier here when I was just teaching creative writing at lunchtime, as a favour, for fun & experience. I also worry about being good enough to teach the syllabus - and do I know what the syllabus actually is!!! Pain pain strain. I need to look everything up. Steal some lesson plans off the internet. Or make something up. Something good. Only 74.5 hours to go (I'm counting the half hour I read and spoke as teaching - goddamm it - I need the hours - let me have it). A start then, but an uncertain one.

Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 02:48 Comments

"Well, howdee doodee everyone. My lovely fellow teaching students! Have a good summer? Mine was average."

Anyway, that conversation didn't take too long.

Though I did ask one guy how his summer had been and he told me about the birth of his son that he had fathered with a lesbian who had wanted to share parenthood. That put my *nice week in north Wales* into perspective. Not that he asked me, actually. One of these people that don't return the question when you ask: how was your weekend - they tell you - then that's the end of that. You're meant to bat the question back over the net - so I can pat it back with a *fine, yeah. Took it easy

Ahh, the rules of small talk. Anyway. That was pretty much it. Lots of admin. Lots of forms. Needing ID. Brief discussion of what modules we are going to be doing. If I was ever going to miss a week, this was probably going to be the one. Dull times 10, if I'm honest. Sometimes it's hard to be here. You don't feel you're getting anywhere or achieving anything. But I guess it's the same for everyone. Jump through hoops, innit?

Next time I will explain more about the class and the two tutors, but...

Current mood: uninspired...

Nice image: courtesy of:http://www.geocities.com/fandango87/gallery/ no more info available

Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 19:53 Comments

So there we are. A first meeting with the head of department. A man that looked as louche and laid back as it is possible to be. And still be a functioning, stand-up (and standing up) member of the teaching profession.

Unlike one of the other English teachers, Mr North, who I had worked with last year doing some creative writing sessions. Mr North is very smart and formally dressed in tie, jacket and sensible haircut. He is more accountant/Kraftwork.

The H.O.D. (is that the right acryonym for head of dept? - it looks good - so I'm sticking with it: The HOD) looks like a retired rock star. Or a crumpled playwright. Which is nice. Informal. Non-threatening... Although you sense a rage exists within him if needed. I'll try not to bring that out though, of course.

And with The HOD in charge it means that I get to dress somewhere inbetween the two poles - accountant/rock star - without feeling too self-conscious about slightly creased trousers or the fact that I can't be bothered wearing a tie.

I queued and waited and signed in at reception at Porringo College. Behind the many young people getting paranoid about their lack of EMI record contracts. EMI? Have I got that right? REM? ERM? One of those. They want money and they want it now.

The HOD came to meet me and gave me a brusque handshake. You get the feeling that handshakes are a little beneath him. *He really can't be bothered.*

We go and sit and chat in an empty classroom. He apologises for the smell.
"I keep opening windows..."

It smells like a 1000 years of school changing rooms compressed into one little classroom. Fuggy. Muggy. Dingy. Grimy.

But once you've sat there for a few minutes you forget about it.

He asks me how many hours I want to do. Gives me an overview of what happens in the college: it's results orientated, has a varied social mix; they're good kids really etc.

But they can be a bit boisterous... And a bit smelly too, it seems. Or else that's the staff...

It's not a subject I really want to get into.

I smile, say yes whenever appropriate and we're both quite anxious to just get the chat done and move on to other things. I want to go & take my library books back. See if I can find the mythical text book that might tell me all I need to know about *How To Teach*.

The HOD wants to have his dinner or sleep or cry or whatever it is that HODs do during their lunch break.

I get home & 30 minutes later The HOD is on the phone. I can start Tuesdays. All day Tuesdays. GCSE in the morn; A2 apres matin. I will be working with another member of the English dept. A teacher - tutor? lecturer? - at F.E. level - everyone's still called a teacher, right? A teacher called Bev. So, they could be male, they could be female. It doesn't seem polite to ask.

I say how delighted I am. I am delighted. Except as I only - *only* - need to do 75 hours teaching at the coalface, I don't want to end up doing 1200 - if only cos I'm not getting paid. And the not getting paid to work thing does still stick in my craw a little.

*On the job training.*

That's the positive way to look at it. It's just a pity that all my part-time PGCE student *buddies* are getting paid while they learn. Hey ho...

Hurrah!!! It's all *almost* happening. It's almost scary. But only almost. Not actually...

Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 19:16 Comments

Well today is Wednesday (wed-nes-day) as I like to spell it out in my head to remind me how to spell it right - and tomorrow is Thurs-day.

<<<- Me - positively raring to go, tomorrow

First day back at North Brassington College. For the start of the 2nd year of my PGCE. Apparently the 2nd year is a lot easier - that is the skinny from a friend of someone who is on my course. It's mainly doing your teaching hours and filling in the miles and miles of evidence that you've done it. Well I did it last year and in true Chad Logan style - i think I got 95% for my portfolio - well, i got a mark through the post that said 95 - though it didn't state what that was out of. I don't think I'll ask. I'll just go on believing the best of myself. I did spend ages on it. Like a swot. So let's believe that, huh? Chad rocks!!!

Yeah, back to college. Though I guess it has been an enormously long summer (though weatherwise: not). The only small fly in the ointment is that I've also arranged to visit Porringo College at 9.30am tomorrow to discuss my teaching of Ingerlish & also some lunchtime Creative Writing sessions there. So - a bit of a conflict. O well. I'll go to Porringo and then arrive unfashionably late at North Brassington College. C'est la vie. And the exciting events will be recounted here for my as yet unimagined reader...

Toodle pip. And keep tuned for more - something. Hopefully good things. Worth blogging about...

I'm almost nervous. Hopefully, just enough to get myself out of bed on time and up to West Fulchester in time for my appointments...

Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 17:59 Comments

These days, when I am asked, “So what do you do, young man?” at some jovial cocktail party, I tell them, “I’m training to be a teacher.”

Which leads to a variety of further questions about who, where and what: post-16 learners, Nincomport College (last year) Porringo College (this coming year, all being well) subject = English. Then the conversation starts to tail off or starts to reveal some prejudice or other of the questioner, usually to do with disruptive pupils, the rise of txt msg Ingl1sh or else the inordinate length of the school summer holidays. Yawn, yawn and yawn again.

However, a Scottish doctor did ask me a follow-up question last week that made me think and struggle for an answer. Apparently, in Scotland, English lessons are just that: English lessons. There is no distinction between language and literature. I have not been able to ascertain if this is actually true, but the question still seems valid: what is the difference? Should there be a difference? Don’t you have to read to write, and then write to prove you understand what you’ve read?

The emphasis in modern teaching (or should I say, the emphasis in teaching-teachers-teaching) is increasingly focused on active learning. That was certainly true at Nincomport College where I did my 1st year's professional practice. The emphasis was also on getting students to set and answer questions of each other – something that was particularly true on the Access to University course.

What's the answer? Well what do you think the answer is? What would you do? If that was you how would you write that? How would you deal with that problem, Mrs Macbeth?

These sorts of techniques helped provoke debate and a deeper understanding of the use of language and the appreciation of literature. In my ighumble opinion they did anyway.

But back to the Scottish doctor, wanting to chat to me at a very inopportune time... The only answer I could come up with was that, “Literature is about reading books, Language is about writing… things.”

Which is both profound, clever and a bit duh-brained all at the same time...

QAA (Quality Assurance Agency for Higher Education) in their benchmark statement, describes the subject of English as being, “characterised by the rigorous and critical study of literature and language. It is concerned with the production, reception and interpretation of written texts, both literary and non-literary; and with the nature, history and potential of the English language. The study of English develops a flexible and responsive openness of mind, conceptual sophistication in argument, and the ability to engage in dialogue with past and present cultures and values.”

And to anyone still awake... Like I say, reading good books and writing good sentences.

Words, and the English language in particular, have never been more popular.

We are living in a Golden Age, possibly in the final years of the printed word and the well-thumbed paperback. The children of Harry Potter are arriving at Further Education colleges with cheap laptops tucked under their arms. As English teachers we need to go with the flow and share what we know. Inform the students with the simple blunt message: you can’t survive in this world without words.

If asked by a student what the point is, I would be tempted to write a simple quote on the interactive white board:

“There’s more to life than books you know, but not much more, not much more.” [Hand in
Glove by The Smiths, 1983]



A song quoting from Shelagh Delaney’s play, ‘A Taste of Honey’, written in 1958.

And now a phrase that brings back 99,500,000 hits on Google. More pages and words than anyone could ever hope or want to read. There is something for everyone when it comes to reading, and nowadays something written by almost everyone - including idiot bloggers like me adding to the word count.

But from cave drawings to carrier pigeons, from Morse code to MSN messenger, it’s all about the communication of ideas and emotions.

Ours is the language of love, laughter and elliptical loquacity. There is still no better way to connect and understand than by writing and reading in English.

Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 21:30 Comments

You have to love that title, right?

What we have here is a book that tries to give practical solutions to real class room problems - well, fine, but it's another thing all together to actually put theory into real life practice - which is one thing that makes Learning Theories so hard to put into practice. But this book does have a lot to offer.

Sue Cowley has written a whole bunch of other books about what you can get *the buggers* to do. There's a humanism and a sense of humour to the titles: how to survive, getting them to think/write/behave - it suggests she's been there and done it and has a magical solution to all your problems. She doesn't, but it makes for an interesting read. Certainly more easy going than trying to take in some of the big textbooks I *read* last year. Reading books by Minton, Petty - and a host of others that I've already wiped from my brain - you were left with a feeling of alienation from the actual practicing of teaching. A big gap between theory and practice. A scary gap.

Cowley tries to fill that. She plays the role of an experienced mentor, giving advice on the 'Basics of Behaviour Management'. Something I know I need to know more about - given that sarcasm and random acts of cruelty and violence are apparently not acceptable from a trainee teacher when trying to discipline a classroom of noisy miscreants...

She tells us to be calm and consistent: ‘Children are extremely sensitive to the idea of fairness.’

Give them structure: ‘At home, their parents or guardians may not have set boundaries for them, or they may constantly move the goalposts, reacting in a variety of different ways to the same types of misbehaviour. Schools offer these young people a refuge, a place where hey meet adults who give them suitable and consistent guidelines about what good behaviour actually is.’

Your students must know what to expect when they come to your lesson. If you meet their expectations, you become a stable feature of their lives. This stability leads to increased trust and better relationships.

Yeah, that makes sense. I guess now it's my job to actually achieve that sort of relationship. Develop control, trust and - logical, interesting, useful lesson plans. The old problems, but Cowley does offer some interesting ideas.

A recommended read for trainee teachers feeling bogged down by overly wordy, overly theoretical text books...

Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 10:19 Comments

The Man from Porringo College inspecting my oranges, yesterday>>>



Hey hey hey, so it looks like I might actually have somewhere to teach in the coming term. Which will be nice, huh? Well hopefully it will, they're a *bit busy with enrolment* at the moment, but are going to get back to me soon. And it's a good college, which might mean that I might have to work harder and put in some more hours, but in comparison to last year (I really should write a review of last year, now that I'm not going to be going back I can indulge in some honesty...) - it should be good. It should be educational. So, huzzah. And watch this space. In the meantime, I should be taking advantage of my free time. I have read some more educationy books, so I'll review them soon.

In the knowledge that no one is reading this, I'll keep this short. Time is ticking; I've re-enrolled for the 2nd year of my PGCE. It starts on 18 Sept and I'll be blogging on my lessons, just for the record. Dull but educational, I'm sure, just like this blog. Ha dee ha ha.

Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 16:04 Comments

Frank ‘Teacher man’ McCourt was a teacher in New York before he invented the ‘misery memoir’ with what turned out to be the 1st volume of his autobiography, ‘Angela’s Ashes’. Then there was ‘Tis’ – which was about… something else – him when he was older?

I may be completely wrong about that. It might have been a book about salmon fishing in Nigeria. I have never either of those books. I have always felt the need to leave those sort of books alone. ‘A Child Called It’. The sense of vicarious pleasure or despair the reader gets from empathising with those kind of stories is a little odd, I feel. Like being addicted to reading about serial killers. Hmmm.

Anyway, miserable childhood memoirs. Despair? Alcoholism? Crazy father drinking away his dole cheque leaving you eating baked beans for Christmas dinner? Nah, no thanks, all sounds a bit too familiar to me. (Oh, look, I’ve started on my own Misery Memoir already! Shameful.)

So McCourt wasn’t really at the front line queuing up for my readerly attentions when I was looking for something to read. Something that might be of relevance to me in my teacherly life. Something that might function as pleasurable distraction but be somehow useful to me as an aspirant teacher. Something that might teach me something. Lots of somethings.

But I read a quote from McCourt in a text book and decided to take a look at Teacher Man. This book is full of great quotes, here is his idea of what you want as a teacher,

“Principals and other figures of authority passing in the hallways will hear sounds of excitement from your room. They’ll peer hrough the door window in wonder at all the raised hands, the eagerness and excitement on the faces of these boys and girls, these plumbers, electricians, beauticians, carpenters, mechanics, typists, machinists.”

It’s quite lovely to hear about how nervous and insecure he is amongst these groups of shouty, confident, rebellious New York youths. Whilst the book itself lacks a dynamic focus or plot, it is very good on incidents and aphorisms. Here’s McCourt on owning the space in the classroom:

“The best move of all is to establish yourself as a presence and do it outside in the hallway. Outside, I say. That’s your territory and when you’re out there you’ll be seen as a strong teacher, fearless, ready to face the swarm. That’s what a class is, a swarm. And you’re a warrier teacher. It’s something people don’t think about. Your territory is your aura, it goes with you everywhere … never let them invade your territory. Never. And remember: teachers who sit or even stand behind their desks are essentially insecure and should try another line of work.”

I love that. It makes me want to prowl and growl around a classroom. It’s a very alpha male thing to do. So probably not really appropriate or achievable for most of us, but it’s a principle and a fantastic fantasy. But in reality, even Frank knows it won’t work all the time:

“Every class has its chemistry. There are some classes you enjoy and look forward to. they know you like them and they like you in return. Sometimes they’ll tell you that was a pretty good lesson and you’re on top of the world. That somehow gives you energy and makes you want to sing on the way home.
“There are some classes you wish would take the ferry to Manhattan and never return. There’s something hostile about the way they enter and leave the room that tells you what they think of you … You try lessons that worked with other classes but even that doesn’t help and it’s because of that chemistry.
“They know when they have you on the run. They have instincts that detect your frustrations. There were days I wanted to sit behind my desk and let them do whatever they damn well pleased. I just could not reach them.”

So there’s enough quotable lines and enough quoted for the publishers to want to start worrying about copyright abuse….

The book itself – as a memoir – or a story – felt a little lacking in narrative motivation. I needed a throughline of plot. It’s quite one dimensional in that you learn so little about colleagues or the outside world or his wife. It stops at the classroom door, but then I guess that is the point. But for teacherly interest it’s something of a minor classic. As an English teacher (which I am – or hope to be) it even has a few good ideas for lesson plans. Read the book and see if there are any ideas you can copy.

“English teachers say if you can teach grammar in a vocational high school you can teach anything anywhere.”

There’s something in that. In a lot of ways, I love the quotes you can grab from this book more than the overall entity itself. Love the words, the pathos, the bathos and (who was the 3rd muskateer?) the reality of the lives portrayed, the unchanging nature of further education from 1970s New York to 21st century Fulchester... the eternal questions and struggles remain the same:

“After eight years at McKee … I still struggled to hold the attention of five classes every day though I was learning what was obvious: You have to make your own way in the classroom. You have to find yourself. You have to develop your own styles, your own techniques. You have to tell the truth or you’ll be found out.”

Posted by Stipey Sullivan at 11:36 Comments