Throwing Chalk: diary of a trainee teacher

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