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