19^th September 2011

It’s National ‘Talk Like a Pirate Day’ today.  One of the new staff has dressed up and looks the business.  I’m too old for that now I tell myself, secretly wishing I could take up his offer of his spare pirate suit.  I feel that I have to uphold my Deputy Headteacher status and being Johnny Depp for the day sounds enticing, but still doesn’t sway me. 

Year 7 beckons again and after last week I am looking forward to today.  I’ve checked the Powerpoint and it’s working intermittently; we’ll see.  I have Plan B ready and I am going to incorporate plenty of discussion and provoke some heated debate and argument. 

I’m early as usual and as I established my first point of control at the door last week, I need to continue with that.  My ‘Biffle’ attention-getter has sorted out point of control number 2, even though I have little space to establish a regular ‘teaching spot’.   So this week I’m practising point of control number 3 again; ‘transition time’, that point in time when I stop talking and let them discuss.  Standing still and watching for 20-30 seconds is hard when a few of them want my attention immediately.  The students haven’t got a clue that I am now ‘nesting’ my skills and starting to form this lovely framework so that they can perform at their best in a few months.

A knock on the door, the register is done, waiting for alterations, Powerpoint is on, first activity is ready and on the whiteboard, I am just finishing writing, “Sit down and place your finished homework on your desk in front of you.”  Preparation.

I smile, mouth ‘Come in’ and beckon them in with my right palm facing me, fingers together moving back and forth. The devil is in the detail.

“Hello Sir.” She says with a big grin.

“Hello again!” I look at her eyes and remember her name instantly.

“Do you want my homework Sir?”

I point to the whiteboard and smile to myself, remembering that subconscious patterns of behaviour rarely go away, we just remove ourselves from the context.  She smiles again as more enter the room.  Not one of them dressed like a pirate.

I ‘Biffle’ them, their response is too loud and the silence isn’t as I want it. I feel my jaw tense and I stand still, rock-like and I am now eye-contacting seriously, scanning them all and lingering on those few that think they can violate the attention-getting routine. A watershed.  Mr Peach, my history teacher in 1969 said it – a watershed in time – everything after that time, is never the same again.  I knew this day would come with the group, it’s inevitable.  Every group goes through the same process; Form, Storm, Norm, Perform.  We are at the beginning of the Storm.  It’s a rocky time and they must feel like they are in the eye of the twister.

“I just want to remind you that when I need your attention, I expect total silence at the end of your response.”  There was I thinking they understood that after using Biffle just a few times.  I mentally flog myself for thinking that it’s that easy.  It has to be done every lesson, every week, every month, every year.  Lionel Messi doesn’t get to be brilliant by practising his skills just a few times.  Preparation and practise.

It seems like a long time but in reality it’s over in 5 seconds; the BIG reminder that I am in charge and I am teaching them right now how to treat me.  However, it’s the learning that’s important and this is a metaphorical quick kick up their collective backside.  There will be more of these but I won’t need to be so severe.  The little faces before me start to soften and relax.  I just know their Primary School Headteachers would have done something very similar, so this is a reminder.  Same philosophy, different context.

I hear a murmur and see a movement of a head towards another.  Big mistake.  He doesn’t realise the gravity of the watershed.

“If I see or hear you talking whilst I am talking, I will remove you from the room and you and I will phone your parents straight after school.  Have I made that clear?”  My eye-contact doesn’t sway from his face.  His eyes stare at me as he is sensing my irritation and I wait for his response.

“Yes Sir.”

“Thank you.” My face softens too and the lines disappear from the sides of my eyes but I don’t smile.  I return to concentrating on the learning as we haven’t really started yet, other than having the homework out on the desks.  “Right.  You all need to be facing the board and looking at the first slide.”  I move to the side so that they can concentrate on it and not me; time to start the heated discussions and let them make some progress.

The first slide is in WordWall.  I love this software as it’s quick and versatile giving me a myriad of options when I use it.  The discussion is about ‘Values’ and I have 8 of them on screen with the meaning of the back of each one.  We discuss the meanings and I give some examples of how our values guide our behaviours.  Then I flick up another screen and I ask one student to go to my PC and re-arrange the picture and she takes just 30 seconds to mould it into the man in a suit and tie.  They like the fact that they can see information move around on screen.  As I watch her manipulate the image I feel glad that I keep myself up to date with new technology and the last few minutes of ‘Storming’ has been blanked out of my head.  Concentrate on learning, not behaviour.  That’s what I tell the trainees every year and now this is it, in real-time.

“So … looking at our 8 values and working in pairs … take one minute to come up with one value you think this man has and the reason why you think that.”  Now for transition time and the ball is in their court.  Their heads go down a little as they huddle to talk and whisper.  I stand at the front and watch.  This point of control is important.  I feel confident that I am doing this to the best of my ability now, but it’s taken until the third lesson for me to feel that way after all these years of drilling the skill into my subconscious behaviour. They know I am watching them as they consciously flick from their conversation to sneaking a glance at me. I want them to succeed so managing their movement and discussions in this way, helps me do that.

I ‘Biffle’ them … “Cla …. ass!”

“Ye ….. es!”  Silence.  They’re getting it.  I’m glad they are as I don’t really like the ‘Storm’ bit even though I know it’s an inevitable necessity.

“Thank you.” I say it in a way that means I’m not surprised they got it and it’s what I expect anyway.  They’re only Year 7.

                “So … G … which value did you come up with and why?”

                “We think he values honesty because he looks like a businessman and he has to work with lots of people so he will have to be honest.”

                I love the naïve views of children, don’t you? “OK! That’s good thinking.  So because he is wearing a suit you think he’s a businessman? What if I told you he’s a model wearing the suit for a catalogue?”

                “Is he Sir?”

                “No, but he could be.  Remember our work on identity last week and how we perceive people by the way they dress?  Interesting isn’t it?”  Rhetorical questions regarding learning, fine.

                Suddenly a boy 2 metres away from me springs up out of his chair, recoiling from something he’s either seen or someone is trying to do to him.

“Pop outside the door for me please,” I say, more forcefully than usual, as I point my open palm towards him then the door and make eye-contact longer than usual.  The class stops as this is the first time I’ve done it.  I can sort out the real issues after the lesson as I am in the flow of the learning and I want them to know it’s more important than some isolated inappropriate behaviour.

We continue in the same vein, interest is growing and they like the Wordwall activities.  I have to give them a little A5 sheet about ‘Personal Values’ that I like but the HoD didn’t provide enough of them for the 25 eager hands.  This makes life harder for me as they can’t all take them home for homework.  I decide that the two boys who have been inappropriate will copy their sheet into their book and take that home instead. I also quickly remind myself that I shouldn’t blame the HoD, I should have checked them myself.  Preparation is everything. My fault.

I invite the young man back in without saying a word and finish off the lesson, only this week I have time for a plenary and we talk about the difference between people and having opinions which sometimes can be totally and utterly wrong.  Ever been in that position?