12^th September 2011

I feel more confident.  Well, confident about the fact that I’m getting back into the PSHCE groove, but not about the new IT system.  You see, Powerpoint isn’t working properly; a bit hit and miss.  My immediate thought is that I need a plan B that involves me, paper, a whiteboard and some students with not a SmartBoard or PC in sight.  Back to the 80’s. The register online is working so that’s a plus.  It’s nearly time to go to the classroom.  You remember, the one that hems me in like a sheep off to the slaughter house. 

                As I sit down I am still secretly hoping that Powerpoint works.  The HoD has spent lots of time preparing some fantastic resources and I really want to use them.  It isn’t working.  I decide to fill in the register as if they are all present and then put the absent ones in later as it will save me time.  One student is missing from last week.  I wonder where he’s gone – probably an error from last week and he’s moved groups. 

I decide to work on my ‘points of control’, so when the first students appear and place their faces against the door window panel, I mouth ‘wait there’ and put up my index finger to indicate they need to wait. That works.  Then I go to meet and greet to let them know I still remember their names.  I do and they smile a smile that says thanks as they begin to sit down.  Point of control number 1. That works. 

                “Sit in the same seats as last week please,” I state belatedly, as it will help my name remembering.  They do and my memory hasn’t failed me.  One student wasn’t here last week so his name will be even easier to remember.  They are quite noisy and I expect it, understand it, but don’t accept it.  I stand bolt upright in my very tiny teaching spot and scan the room, spotting eyes watching me and many that aren’t.  I ‘Biffle’ them.  It works a treat – again.  I love that man.  One student gets out of her seat and wafts last week’s A5 homework sheet and starts to tell me which one of her dogs licked the ink off it.  Her bravery prompts 4 others and I can’t stand the primary school queue that is forming so I say, “If it’s about your homework, sit down.”  My hand involuntarily pops up to match my disappointed face and to call a halt to their march.  They all troop off, happy there is to be no personal telling-off from me.  I must have a quick starter on their desks next week.

                “Your homework should be on the desk in front of you.  If you haven’t got it please put up your hand.” Five arms raise.  “I want to tell you my thoughts about your homework.  It’s your responsibility to write it in your planner, take it home, complete it and bring it back.  I don’t like, or want, excuses. 20% of you haven’t done it for various reasons, so that means 80% of you have and I like that figure.  Next week it needs to be 100%.”  I like Year 7 and I am oozing positivity, but I still have to teach them how to treat me.

                I ask them to draw around their hand on three separate pages of their books and tell them they have 6 minutes to put the titles and answers to the questions on the board there too, but in silence.  I just about remember ‘transition time’ and root myself to the spot and watch their every move as they settle into the task.  Three students raise their hands but I am now on my game and in full flow. I show them my flat palm and mouth ‘in a minute’ so softly that it’s barely audible. I don’t want ‘transition time’ interrupted as I need to know the ones I have to help. It will be those 3, then I spot another 4 students who immediately begin to talk rather than draw; it’s in their genes.

I understand, so I don’t get upset.

“Year 7, if I say ‘silence’, I mean ‘silence’.” My head cocks to one side again, my eyebrows raise and lips slightly purse.  That works. I scan the room to monitor them just like that great Maitre D’ at that lovely restaurant in Venice. They are furtively watching me watching them. Perfect. I have my route in my head and stride out purposefully to the ones in need of my help first.  Table by table I let them know that they can discuss their answers so the noise level goes up.  I want them to discuss at a noise level that suits me, not them.  That strategy works.

                I ‘Biffle’ them again.  This time the response is a little over-confident so I scan across the room quickly with a deadpan face that is saying, ‘Be careful’.  I want to have a class discussion and each table have their chosen speaker feedback to the rest of the class.  Dylan would be proud of me and I am proud of myself for being ‘inside the black box’.

                “Sir, she’s still talking,” the boy who went out last week without my permission says, gesturing to ‘she’ across the table.

                “It’s him Sir, he keeps talking to me,” she responds indignantly. 

                I look at them, both eyebrows rising, and yes, I am realising I do that a lot. “Both of you need to stay behind at the end and we can quickly ring your parents.” I use the big stick to interrupt their patterns of behaviour. I will teach them how to treat me.  In the long term they will love me for it and so will their folks.  That works. Back to the learning.

                “Now, let’s hear from … that table.” Feeding back to the group is hard for some, so despite my numerous requests to speak louder, we are all straining to listen. “I love those ideas, especially the one about how we all pick up non-verbal signals from our parents/carers about how to act in certain situations.  “Thank you!”  As I say that, I know it’s happening to them right now and I am influencing their patterns of behaviour.  It works.

                Another table. “Yes I like that idea too. Events and little happenings in our lives influence us.”  I felt this was just the time to ‘make friends’ with the boy who left last week without my permission. “Yes, like when I had to remind K about the way he spoke to C earlier, K will now realise that our exchange of words may cause him to change the way he behaves in my lesson.  What do you think K?”  I smile expectantly and he responds with a smile and a nod.  I’m glad, as I want to teach him how to behave around others in a classroom and not see me as some horrid bloke he tolerates once a week.  Professionally friendly – that works.

                Oh dear.  Time has gone by again and there’s no time for the plenary.  My timing is out.  I know it’s not helping that I am writing the words down that the students and I actually say in order to write this, but I have to discipline myself or get a bigger watch, or better still, have a student to keep me informed of the time. Yes, the latter, that should work.

                I remember I have to see the 2 students who interrupted the learning. “K … C … Just hang back a minute for me when everyone has gone.”  I stand by the door this week and call out names of those who are ready to go, with chairs under their table.  I really have learned the names and I feel good about that and I get smile after smile as they leave.  “See you next week, remember your homework.  It’s all about you!”

                “Bye Sir.”

                “In a bit Sir.”

                I’m happy they are communicating as the relationship building is happening.  Now for my two young people and I decide to quickly use my ‘end-of-the-lesson’ frame to help keep my dignity and theirs.  I move so that they are nearest to the door and standing.  This should take 15 seconds.

                “When you talk to each other in that disrespectful way, I feel irritated.  What I’d prefer you to do is talk to each other in a way that helps both you and me.  When you do that, we’ll all get on fine.  Is that fair enough?”  I mentally congratulate myself on how good my memory is as I immediately shut myself up and wait for their response.  K quickly gives the affirmative and C follows.  They both look honest and seem to mean it. 

                “OK, see you tomorrow,” I say with a smile as I drop my chin a little and raise my eyebrows again hopefully expressing my surprise and disappointment.  They both turn and go out, not talking to each other, but obviously agreeing that it’s best to retain a dignified silence for now.  I feel good and they think they’ve had a let-off as I haven’t shouted or gone on a bit of a rant.  They are in Year 7. I remind myself it’s their behaviour I don’t like, not them.

So, second lesson over and I still need to attend to my own skills and get into their world at the same time to help build relationships, if I am to have any hope of getting back to my old ‘teaching’ self.  Their personalities are beginning to show through and I will use those sprouts of confidence to influence them to like me.

That works.