5^th September 2011

Have I still got what it takes to successfully manage a class? I’m 53, feeling like I am 25, but since I hit 50 it’s all gone a bit psychological.  New ‘Building Learning Power’ techniques and ‘Assessment for Learning’ stuff need to be integrated into my own personal history about what I think makes me a good teacher; my personality, my quirky mannerisms, my ability to get inside their heads and influence them to like being around me.

OfSTED aren’t here. It can’t be that bad. I am determined to learn all 25 names in the hour.  I’ve done it before and I can do it again.  It’s not my room.  It’s cramped, hot and I am starting to sweat with windows that won’t open. Damn my urticarial tendencies.  It’s not my prepared work although it’s very, very good with a PowerPoint and related materials including exercise books, laminated cards, sheets to stick in and loads of Pritt Sticks.  No pens, no pencils though.  What if they haven’t got their pencil cases from W H Smiths? It’s a brand new Windows7 PC system but I take my memory stick thing with me just in case.  The Smartboard is in a poor position and I feel hemmed in with no ‘teaching position’.  Students walk in unannounced as I am setting up the PC for first time.

“Is this year 7 physics Sir?” (7PSHCE) They are so innocent.
“No, it’s PSHCE.” I say, as I give little eye contact as I am pre-occupied with the PC working.

“Sit down in a seat of your own choice, please.” I say and the words float out there as I hope they hear them and take note.  The register online isn’t working due to teething problems with the new Windows 7.  I decide to leave it as our legal requirement is for periods 1 and 4 only.

I haven’t learned any names yet.

I sift through paperwork to dish out books, Academic Profile sheets and PSHCE levels sheets which have to be stuck in books. I am still unsure where to stand as it’s so tight up front here. I finally dish out books and papers to be stuck in … Old Pritt sticks dried up. Should have checked.  Loads of experience but missed out the common-sense.  I’ll be alright. I’m just out of practice and it is a strange room.

I give out materials to start to learn names as I want to learn all of them by the end of the lesson.  The students wonder why I am looking at them weirdly and staring for longer than usual as I play association games in my head.  I do it best by proximity and places they sit.  Smiles when I remember.  I have learned 4 names.

Introduce myself as the Deputy Headteacher around school and their teacher for PSHCE. Two different people.  I tell them I expect them to be quiet whilst I’m talking and I will make sure everyone is quiet whilst they are talking too.  I tell them I don’t like poor manners and want them to be nice people who know how to conduct themselves in a class full of people.  I tell them we all need to use language that we are all happy with.  I forego the practice of asking them to make the class rules as I want to talk that through at a later date.  Is that me being old?  I notice one boy who seems unhappy and so I learn his name first and use it often.  He is soon smiling.  One talkative boy talks over me.  I stop immediately and stare at him.  He stops when he hears the deafening silence.

I say, “Just a reminder to you all about the fact that I don’t like anyone to talk whilst I am talking.” As I do that I still stare at him then scan the room so they get the message that I’ve clocked him and to remind them that I mean what I say.  He looks suitably admonished and I’m happy with that response.

I give them one minute to get to know everyone on their table and to be able to feedback to the class one thing they’ve learned about them.  I forget to use the skill of controlling ‘transition time’ as I need to check PowerPoint is working.  The PC logs me out through lack of attention and I have to work out how to log back in on the new system.

I get their attention using Chris Biffle’s technique from Power Teaching/Whole Brain Teaching and it works a treat as usual with Year 7s.  I’ll use it more creatively as the weeks go on to reinforce to myself I am not too old to teach with the enthusiasm I had when I was 21.  We talk about talking and listening and how that makes for a better conversation. We’ll see. I hit the link to a YouTube video and Windows 7 tells me I can’t see it as I don’t have those access rights.  I really do love our Network Manager. A shame, as it’s the one from Comic Relief with Catherine Tate and Tony Blair. Face. Bovvered.  I feel embarrassed and start to sweat a little as I apologise.  It flashes through my mind that they think I am old and don’t know how to use a PC, FaceTube or the Interweb.

I introduce some beautifully laminated cards which have topics on we shall be discussing over the next few weeks. I give the card packs out myself again; must learn names, names and more names. I have learned 12 names by this time, but I have the feeling they still think I am a strange old man with hair from the 70’s.  I feel a little bit concerned that if I try to put them into groups so early they might mess up.  I do it anyway and, in the spirit of my commitment to ‘Building Learning Power’ and ‘Assessment for Learning’, I employ some observers to watch each group and to feedback about the behaviour of the group members. It works a treat and they are helping me get back into old ways, when I get really effusive and they afford themselves a smile or two when I say,

“Yes! I love that idea!”

 “Yes! Now that is exactly what I am looking for!” 

“Yes! I must ring your old Headteacher, Mr Doitright and tell him what you’ve just said!”

As usual I am looking for the positives in every situation and react to learning whenever I can and try to ignore some minor irritating behaviours. They trained Shamu the whale this way I remind myself.  I’ve learned 16 names.

Thing is, I also remember I am good at interrupting unhelpful patterns of behaviour and spot a boy doing a jig inappropriately when we are discussing the feedback.  His mates are amused and I am not.  I go into ‘interrupting sentence’ mode and the whole class stops and stares at me, then him, as I say with a lowered volume near to  a whisper, “If I ever see you do that again in my lesson I will be straight on the phone to your parents: have I made myself clear?”  I raise my considerable eyebrows, open my eyes much wider, pout my lips ever so slightly and cock my head 15 degrees to the right with that ‘questioning’ look that really is saying, “Don’t mess with me!”  I think he understands as his mouth returns to its normal position. It takes 5 seconds, tops. I quickly return back to the learning and relationship building that’s happening before my eyes, as they deserve my attention more than the ballroom dancer.

The feedback continues and another girl decides to hold her own conversation about a metre from me. This time I don’t even interrupt my sentence because I hadn’t started one, so I just stare at her with a deadpan face.  I stare and stare for about 5 seconds, but it seems like ages.  She gently bites her lip, screws up her face and lifts her shoulders in an attempt to say sorry and steel herself for the onslaught. She’s only Year 7. I turn my attention back to the learning.

I decide to give the groups 30 seconds to answer a question and tell them so.  If I ask the question first, then tell them they have 30 seconds, I will have a flurry of hands up and we try to discourage hands-up these days as it’s a better technique for learning.  I ask it.

“So what subject from the cards do you think it would be most difficult to talk about?”  They huddle up on each table.  30 seconds is up and I choose a table and they choose a responder.  I have now remembered 18 names.  I ask one student, whose name I know, for his feedback.                 

“We would find this one hard to talk about.”
“Which one is that?” I ask without a hint of a smile.
“This one.”  He holds it aloft presuming he’s off the hook.
“I can’t see it, what does it say on the card?”
“It’s the ‘S’ word Sir.” They are only Year 7.
“S?” I mock misunderstanding.
“Sex Sir.” A triumphant loud voice. First breakthrough.
“Oh! Sex. OK, thanks for that.”

I turn my attention to the next tables and we’re off!  They now know I am an alright guy as I smile, save their skins and hear a collective sigh of relief.

Time has beaten me and I have to sum up quickly.  No time for their feedback. I didn’t appoint a monitor for book collection.  OfSTED would have destroyed me no doubt, but I don’t care as they won’t have taught for at least 10 years.  I’ve made some significant breakthroughs in one hour and I’ve learned 22 out of 25 names. I tell them that when I have pointed to them and said their name, they can go. One leaves without my permission and I make a mental note to see him next time.  He’s only in Year 7 and he doesn’t know I am a stickler for things like that. I stare at the last 3 trying to rack my brain and remember them sitting in their seats.

“What does it begin with?”
“J” His attire is a big clue for me, but I still fail attempt after attempt.
“It’s Jagdeep Sir,” he says with a hint of disappointment.
“Yes! I will never forget you Jagdeep!” I announce, hiding my own disappointment.

At this point my memory returns and I shout out the other two names.  24 out of 25.   Their faces light up and they turn and skip out. I love Year 7. Not bad for a 53 year old who can, but doesn’t want to, master FaceTube.

Follow me as I teach Year 7 ...

The events described here actually happened.


I teach the group period 5 on Mondays.  I write about them with only the slightest hint of poetic licence.  I train and coach a lot of trainee teachers and NQTs to manage behaviour.  I want them to know that I can manage groups of students and that it's not simply rhetoric.


If you read this story and want to make comments, please do. I don't know it all but certain things seem to have worked over the years and therefore warrant mentioning.