Learning is delightful and delicious …

A few weeks ago, Old Andrew wrote that learning can sometimes be Hard Work, reminding us that while learning can indeed be fun sometimes, it’s not always the case. There comes a time when, in order to progress and learn something new, we have to actually make an effort and challenge ourselves, which might mean sitting down with a book and actually working something out for ourselves or – God forbid! – learning something off by heart!

I read this article in the Telegraph a couple of days ago which argued that Motivational gimmicks ‘undermine’ the intellectual content of lessons and found myself nodding in agreement while thinking back to Old Andrew’s post and about my own experiences of lesson planning.

I sat in a Staff Meeting a few weeks ago at which the (new) Head told us all that he didn’t think the kids at my school were enjoying their lessons enough (or words to that effect). I think the word that strikes fear into all our hearts was also used. You know the one I mean. The three-letter one that begins with “f” and ends with “n”.

I have absolutely no problem with trying to make my lessons enjoyable and engaging. I want the kids I teach to enjoy the time I spend teaching them, but this emphasis on lessons being “fun” ALL THE TIME isn’t doing pupils any favours. Not everything in school – and in life – is all-singing, all-dancing, all-the-time. Some things just have to be learned and some effort on the part of the pupils is required in order for that learning to take place. At the same meeting, we were also informed that staff were working “much harder than the pupils”, and that this shouldn’t be the case.

Er… huh? On the one hand we’re expected to be entertaining and plan these mightily interesting, engaging and FUN lessons to stop the poor little dears from suffering that nasty old boredom, but on the other, we mustn’t work too hard? What planet is he living on?? But then, he’s probably not taught for a while and doesn’t realise quite how much work it takes to provide this amount of “fun”.

There was a thread on the TES forums this week about whether people felt their workloads were increasing, despite the various guidelines now in place regarding non-contact time, and the administrative tasks that teachers aren’t supposed to do. But despite that, most people were agreeing with the OP that they seemed to be working harder than ever – and given the amount of time I’ve spent these last couple of days preparing just ONE lesson, I’m not surprised. It’s a lesson for a bottom set MFL class – and I’ve spent ages scouring the web for pictures for powerpoints, and making up games… which I’ll use just this once and for about twenty minutes.

I don’t know that the answer is – in fact, I doubt there is one because while the educational establishment is obsessed with the idea that kids need to have “fun” in order to learn anything, and seems to have dismissed the idea that learning FOR ITS OWN SAKE is A Good Thing I can only see this trend continuing and getting worse, to the point where the TDA will require teachers to pass tests in Juggling and Unicycle Riding as well as in basic Literacy and Numeracy.

I’ll admit that I work in a particularly challenging school where there are a large number of pupils with very low self-esteem who will, when presented with anything that’s even vaguely unfamilliar or which seems as though it may require some effort, instantly say that they can’t do it, or it’s too hard. But we’re not doing them any favours whatsoever by trying to cocoon them into an environment where nothing is hard, and learning requires no effort. Life isn’t like that. Sometimes life is boring – or hard – and we can’t all be good at everything. To my mind, this is all parcelled up with another ridiculous trend – that of not allowing kids to be bad at something or to fail. The idea of rewards for all, regardless of effort – and in many cases, its the badly behaved pupils who end up getting rewarded for simply shutting up and/or sitting still, while the kids who behave well and do exactly as they’re expected to get left out – is teaching kids that whatever they do is enough to get them through whereas we know that in the real world it isn’t. Life isn’t fair – we can’t all be winners, but what we can do (and should be doing, but aren’t) is teaching kids that while that is indeed the case, they’re almost certain to be better off if they try – if they attempt to do the things they think are hard and get their heads down and LEARN things without those things having to be sugar coated all the time. Come to think of it, they’d probably learn more as well, because teachers would be able to spend their time planning actual lessons rather than thinking up new methods of entertainment!

I’ve spent a lot of time and effort since the beginning of term organising a year 7 trip. More precisely, six year 7 trips. We had the chance to play a Gamelan (a percussion orchestra from Indonesia) which is currently housed at a local school, and seeing that this half-term’s topic is “cultural identity and diversity”, it seemed an ideal way in which to cover that aspect of the curriculum.

I took two classes last week, am taking two more this week and the last two after half term.

Kids are notoriously bad at remembering to bring forms back (well, they are at my school!) and so I’ve reminded and nagged at every possible opportunity – lessons, assemblies, when I’ve seen kids in the playground etc. On Monday I reminded the class I’m taking tomorrow that they needed to get their letters back, and said that the groups I’d taken last week had done very well and that it had been fun.

The response?

“They tole us it woz borin’. All they dun was sit an’ play instruments.”

Er… what? The letter explained where we were going and what we were going to do. It’s a MUSIC trip – what do they expect? To sail the seven seas or scale the north face of the bleedin’ Eiger??

Oh, no, wait. If the kids at my school were given the chance to do that it’d be “too ‘borin’.”

Honestly.

I’m feeling distinctly frayed around the edges lately. Not so overwhelmed as I felt the first two or three weeks of term, but frazzled nonetheless.

I like being organised. It’s the only way I know how to function really – I’ve never been a seat-of-the-pants kind of person, which can sometimes be a bit of a disadvantage in teaching when something goes off track or in a direction you hadn’t anticipated. It doesn’t happen very often, and I’m pleased to say that when it has, I’ve coped with it. I suppose what’s bugging me is that there are things “out there” which prevent me from being as organised as I’d wish.

Narrowing it down still further, the problem is PSHE. I’ve come across very few schools where the kids have PSHE lessons with someone who’s qualified and or experienced in teaching it. And by that I mean teachers who teach it as an actual subject, not by form tutors like myself who find themselves dumped in at the deep end trying to plan an interesting lesson that will engage the kids with whatever it is they’re supposed to be thinking about that week.

It’s not that I can’t teach the subject. Anyone who knows me will know that I can usually offer an opinion on pretty much anything – so that’s not the problem. The problem is that I’ve got some plans here written by someone else (who co-ordinates PSHE across the school) – which are telling me to use some of the information I’ve been given in a certain way and then that I need to give examples of where (in the world) that information doesn’t apply. Which would be fine – except that I haven’t been given any of those examples. Which means that I either have to go trawling the internet to find them or ignore that part of the lesson plan.

See why it bugs me? I don’t have time to plan for this – not with everything else I have on my plate, and it’s not as though, like some form tutors, perhaps, I’ve done this scheme of work before.

Honestly, if PSHE is to be taken seriously by the kids – and in my experience so far, with year 8s and older, it isn’t – surely it should be taught by someone who a) knows what they’re doing and b) who has an interest in it, because quite frankly, I don’t. Not that the topics chosen aren’t interesting and relevant – often they are; I just don’t have time to spend on it. Often, the first time I look at the lesson plan for that week is on Friday morning when I get into school (my PSHE lesson is first thing Friday) – usually because I’ve had so much else going on that I’ve not been able to get to it before that. And that being the case, I need a lesson plan AND resources so that I can just give the lesson and not have to worry about it.

I know I’m not the only one in this position – it’s just bugging me to the extent that I have to vent.

Although I can usually find someting about my job to moan about, I make no secret of the fact that generally I enjoy it. I teach at a tough school, and the department I’m running has been neglected for a number of years due to staffing problems – but I made huge progress last year, which I know was greatly appreciated by the head and the other senior staff at the school. I know I’m doing a damn good job, and I feel that I’m at last working somewhere where my contribution is valued and where I’m pretty sure there are good promotion prospects for me as and when.

BUT…

I’ve just sat and spent an hour marking some year 9 books, and I wonder what the hell I’m doing? The majority of this class can’t follow a simple instruction and rarely finish a piece of work. Some of them just open their book and write wherever it opens, so the work (when there is any!) is all over the place. Sadly, this isn’t unusual.

I’m sure their maths books don’t look like this. Yet another depressing reminder of how my subject is perceived by pupils.

I’ve been meaning to post something about this for ages – but I either forget or I’ve been too tired.

Very soon, the GTC will introduce a new Code of Conduct for teachers, about which there has been a fair amount of debate.

Anyone who can be bothered to read the thing might just shrug and think, “well, that makes sense” – and most of it does – but the sentence that’s causing the debate is one right at the end of the list of eight “principles” that the code enshrines. The one that says (on page 14) that teachers should -

Maintain reasonable standards in their own behaviour that enable them to maintain an effective learning environment and also to uphold public trust and confidence in the profession.

Again, that sounds sort of okay – until you start to think about it.  What exactly does that mean? If, for example, I decided to go out for a night on the town on a Saturday night, get plastered and am seen by the parents of one of my pupils whilst I’m a bit worse for wear – and they report me for some reason – would that mean I’ve brought the profession into disrepute?

I’m not saying in any way that teachers shouldn’t maintain reasonable standards in their behaviour – but surely that should apply to everyone? We should all aim to behave in such a fashion, but if a teacher wants to go out at the weekend and blow off a bit of steam, shouldn’t they be able to do that without fear of losing their job?  And why should we be held to a higher standard of behaviour than everyone else? Because let’s face it, chances are that a lot of our pupils are far more likely to get drunk or stoned than we are, yet they don’t have a professional body breathing down their necks!

Why the hell do the-powers-that-be do this to teachers? Well, I suppose that’s a rhetorical question, because I know why.

Kids today are generally not so well educated as they used to be, although I’d argue that teachers are better trained than ever. Yet it’s easier to blame poor teaching than it is to blame poor parenting, or a lack of stability in kids’ lives, or a hundred other things over which we, as teachers can have no control – than it is to try to find solutions to those, more serious and deep-rooted problems. It’s easier to blame a teacher for not being able to control a class than it is to do anything about the poorly behaved kids who cause the problem, because they know – as so many of them proudly proclaim – “you can’t doo nuffink to me; you touch me, and it’s child abuse, innit?” (And don’t even get me started on just how infuriated that statement makes me – that these little toe-rags whose problems stem mostly from the fact that they’ve never been made to understand the word “NO” can dare to talk about real abuse in such a casual manner).

This recent post on the Times School Gate blog contains a paragraph in particular about something that always bugs me when I read comments there and on other, similar blogs from people who aren’t teachers –

Teachers often get a raw deal, as some of those who read this blog will testify. I like to think that School Gate visitors are sane and sensible, but one teacher recently contacted me to say that she has found the torrent of abuse on here difficult to take (unfortunately she’s taken it personally, which is all to easy to do in the scary world of anonymity and cyberspace). When I look back at the comments, there certainly are a huge number critical of teachers, along with an assumption that teachers are not clever, not hard working, unable to spell properly, and only doing the job because they didn’t know what else to do. Some of this is obviously my fault – after all I ask the questions – but I still think that teachers get a very hard deal, probably harder than many other professionals. It’s not an easy job, and yet people are always ready to jump in with criticisms.

I’ve veered from my point (as usual!) but these are some of the things that have been on my mind lately.

On the plus side though – I had a new TA in a class today. Well, I say new, she’s been in that lesson since the start of term, and today, she told me how much she enjoyed coming into my lesson because the kids always enjoyed it, I made it interesting for them, and that she was impressed with the ways I found to explain things to them. It’s things like that that bring things into focus sometimes, and remind me that I’m bloody good at my job.

I’ve been trying, over the last few days, to think of something to say about the horrific crime committed by the two brothers in Edlington. Or rather to think of something to say that hasn’t already been said.

Well, I’d given up – until this morning, when I was talking to my husband about it and he said to me “are you surprised? As a teacher, are you really surprised about what some kids are capable of?”

Sadly – the answer has to be “no”. Yes, I’m shocked, as I’m sure everyone who’s heard about this is. But surprised? No. And how awful is that?

I suppose we’re lucky that something of this nature doesn’t happen more often, given the number of children and young people out there that come from so-called “broken homes – who are growing up with no guidance, no discipline, no role models and, probably, no love or affection. I’ve not read all the articles that have been published since the story about the trial hit the media, but this comment, from The Times has stuck with me -

Martin Narey, the chief executive of Barnardo’s, said last night that many more children need to be taken into care at birth to stop them being damaged beyond repair by bad parenting.

There is an overriding assumption these days that children are better off with their parents, seemingly regardless of what those parents are doing to their offspring. But surely, neglecting them and allowing them to do whatever the hell they want is just as bad as beating the crap out of them each night.

The answers are complex – and politicians think they would be unpopular, which is why they’re all too scared to do anything that would make a difference.

Again, from The Times -

This horror occurred because the system for intervention in the lives of neglected children is woefully inadequate and intellectually and economically flawed. Too late, too short-term, too wishy-washy, too cheapskate.
Dozens of people will have seen this particular horror coming for years. The police said yesterday that all the agencies had been involved with these children since an early age. Teachers, neighbours, social workers, police officers, health workers, parents — everyone who has had contact with the brothers since birth, probably — will have known trouble was looming. Since they were toddlers, in effect, they have been wearing labels screaming “Help me! lost child!” 5ft wide.

You can put money on it that they have a record of exclusions from school. Equally, you can be sure they have grown up in a spectacularly dysfunctional family. You can speculate whether, as well as suffering from complex emotional and behavioural problems born of poor parenting, the boys are on the autistic spectrum and have poor speech and language skills.These boys had their fate written for them: perhaps from birth.

So there are no surprises, but that’s precisely my point. Everybody knew this, but nobody did anything. The authorities stayed in their silos, guarded their threadbare budgets, watched their backs and let the slow motion tragedy unfold. Why? Because that’s what the system decrees that they do.

And that’s what we, as a society, are up against. When I was listening to a report on the radio this week, the senior police officer being interviewed said that although these two boys had been on their radar for some time, there was nothing they could have done to prevent this crime, despite their having been questioned about a similar offence shortly before. Sure, none of us wants to live in a society where we could be detained because of something we might do – but none of us wants to live in a society where a crime like this can be perpetrated by two children, even when a number of adults – police, doctors, teachers, social workers - saw it coming a mile off.

I suppose the thing that sickens me more than anything is the fact that two boys – children – could actually contemplate doing such terrible things. That they did them is bad enough, but that they had, somewhere in their minds, the ability to actually think up and plan to do the things they did is even more appalling. My eldest daughter is ten now, and she would no more dream of hurting another child than she would of robbing a bank. What sort of life have those boys had that has equipped them with the – for want of a better word – imagination - to come up with the idea of torturing their victims in the way that they did?

I fully understand why the CPS has taken the decision to avoid a trial. I have no strong opinion on that either way; if the sentence is the same for GBH as for attempted murder, then as long as the sentence is carried out appropriately I think that justice has been served.

Although of course we all know that chances are, the boys will be out in ten years or so, complete with new identities and police protection.

I know I’m lucky in that I don’t acutally have to GO to work over these six weeks, but I feel as though I’ve hardly had a break yet! I’ve written and made resources for two schemes of work, made up a load of CDs, done various other work-related bits and pieces… and I haven’t finished yet!

We only have one PD day at the start of term, too, most of which will undoubtedly be taken up with meetings which will have absolutely no relevance to me. And there’s nothing worse than having to sit through something like that when there are a hundred different things you’d rather be getting on with that will actually be of some USE when the kids come in the next day!

The next couple of weeks will be pretty busy; both my daughters’ birthdays are coming up, we’re off camping for another week, then visiting relatives and after that… time to go back to school.

So I’d better get on with some more work

Well, it’s shaping up to be a typical British summer holiday so far – completely unpredictable weather-wise.  I wish somebody who can actually DO something about it would listen to those people who, every year, suggest it’s about time we change the dates and length of the school holidays.

Not that I’m against a long break – far from it – but this year’s been a good example of the fact that the weather in the Uk is (according to met office stats) generally better in May/June than it is in July/August.  Finishing in May or early June after the exams are finished makes much more sense – those pupils taking exams don’t then have to come back into school until the new term and pupils who aren’t get more of a chance to be outside in the sunshine!

I don’t really know what the answer is – but it doesn’t make sense that we’re still tied into holidays that were fixed when we were an agrarian society and kids were needed to help in the fields!  I read a couple of items around the end of term talking once again about the thorny issue of whether parents should be allowed to take their children out of school for holidays in term time when the prices aren’t so extortionate - and again, perhaps changing the school holidays – or perhaps even staggering them throughout the country – might help. As a parent, I can totally understand why people would take holidays in term-time. I think I’d do it myself if I wasn’t a teacher – I really resent being ripped off just because the holiday companies and destinations can.

On that note, we’re off camping next week. It’s what we used to do when I was a kid, so I’ve come full circle now, with my own! Given the unreliability of the weather, we’ve decided to have two separate weeks in two different destinations, rather than going to one place for a fortnight. My eldest can’t wait to get to as many old houses/castles as possible and has already been going through the English Heritage/National Trust books to work out where to go.

Yes, it’s almost the end of the term and the academic year, and it really can’t come soon enough. This half-term is always a long one it seems, although the last week or two are pretty much a waste of time in teaching terms, because the kids are demob happy and it’s a challenge just keeping them in the classroom, let alone trying to actually teach them anything!

My school had the right idea this week, though. Monday was Sports Day – albeit not in the conventional sense – rather, it was an “outdoor” activities day (with a few indoor ones, too) which seemed to go quite well. Then on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday the kids are engaged on various activities, some in school, some outside, and Friday is a half day.

Thing is – those of us who didn’t have a big enough number sign up for our activities instead have to babysit the “remnants”; those kids who couldn’t be bothered to sign up for anything or for whatever reason couldn’t undertake a particular activity. As you’d suspect, the majority of them are the kids that we’d all rather had just bunked off. It was made clear to all those who hadn’t signed up for something that there would be normal lessons, they were expected to wear uniform – in short, these will be normal days for them.  About two thirds of those on the list didn’t bother to turn up at all, and those that did… we had year 8s for a couple of periods and year 10s. The 8s weren’t too bad, but the 10s were appalling. The thought that in less than a year these kids will be let loose in society is a pretty scary one.

Given the small numbers, we decided that we’d put on a DVD (with the proviso that those behaving badly would be removed and given actual work to do!) – but even that wasn’t good enough. When I was a kid, we didn’t have DVDs- or even videos – but I’m sure that given the option of watching a film in a lesson or doing some worksheets, I’d have opted for whatever was offered. These kids? Thought they were going to come into school and do exactly what they liked for the day. Newsflash – we’re not a free leisure centre or place you can come to doss about with your mates.

Seriously, by the end of the day, my colleagues and I had been a cross between babysitters and sheep-dogs. I only wish I’d had the option of sinking my teeth into a few of them. Although perhaps not – who knows what I might have caught?

We’ve got our fingers crossed that more of them bunk off tomorrow!  I’ve got a load of work I want to do before the holiday and managed to get bugger all done today. With any luck, the kids that do come in will be the ones who can be given a job and trusted to get on with it with minimal supervision!

In yet another effort to improve the educational standards achieved by children in this country, the govenment is now poised to introduce the MTL, or Masters in Teaching and Learning. It’s not going to be compulsory (well, not initially), but let’s face it, given the scarcity of teaching jobs in some areas and some subjects, applicants with the MTL are almost certainly going to be given priority at initial application stage, meaning that those without are going to feel pressured into getting one.

Mike Baker at the BBC says everything much more eloquently than I can, but to sum up the concerns are -

• Increasing the workload of already overworked teachers, especially those new to the profession and/or those working in particularly challenging schools.
• Importing an idea from another country (in this case, Finland) which has a completely different curriculum and educational system; what works there may not work here
• Teachers feeling pressured to gain an MTL in order to secure a position / promotion etc.

And here’s the biggie. Pedagogy changes all the time.

Fashions in teaching methods come and go. Not all are successful.

Usually, though, the damage is limited because not everyone teaches in the same way at the same time, as each generation has been trained in different methods.

There is a risk that certain teaching methodologies will become the pattern for all MTL students.

If all new teachers are being taught the same government-endorsed teaching method, this could become the new orthodoxy, just like the numeracy and literacy hours.

If it works, fine. But if it does not, it could be disastrous, as everyone will be doing the wrong thing.

Personally, I can’t see how this can do anything to raise the status of the profession. From comments on blogs and things I see posted by non-teachers, teachers are, by many, regarded as lucky bastards who get too much holiday, who only do a half-day’s work, earn a lot (thanks to those bloody stupid ads by the TDA claiming we earn £34K) and who still turn out kids who can’t read, write or add up properly. We’re often perceived as people who have no idea what the “real world” is like, and adding yet another academic qualification will, to my mind, only serve to increase that. (Although I will state here, that that final point isn’t completely untrue in my experience – speaking as someone who worked in the private sector before becoming a teacher, I can confidently state that I’ve seen behaviour and attitudes that would have got colleagues the sack had they worked for a private company, but that’s a different story).

And one final thing. Why is it always assumed that whatever is wrong with the system, it must be the TEACHERS’ fault? Why does nobody ever mention or question the quality of the raw material we’re given to work with? I’m not trying to shift the… I hesitate to use the word “blame”… to pupils, but when I have a class of 13 year-olds, some of whom have no idea how to behave, some of whom can barely manage to write a coherent sentence or manage to speak to each other using words of more than one syllable that aren’t swear words … how can that be my fault? How is my having an MTL going to change any of that?

And of course, you know what? In a few years when we’ve all got them, spent so much time studying for them that we’re knackered and burned out and haven’t had time to write decent lessons, the government will decide that clearly having a Masters’ isn’t enough, and we really should all have PhDs.