Throwing Chalk: diary of a trainee teacher

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