27th February 2012

I think it was Henry Ford, the motor-maker, who said something like, “If I’d have given the people what they wanted, I would have built a faster horse.”  You get the idea.  Sometimes people, including me, just don’t know what’s good for us do we?  Whether it’s a new invention or re-living the past, we can easily shun something that is good for us, because it’s easier to do what we like.  And so it is with students at school.  

                Educational theories and theorists come and go in a circle and one of the latest re-inventions can be open to mis-interpretation: Student Voice.  Now I am all for students having their say and contributing to their own education.  However, sometimes it’s easy to forget that sometimes teacher knows best. Sometimes it’s easier to ‘facilitate’; sometimes, like Henry Ford, the teacher’s way of doing things is better than what the students want us to do.  They need more than just what they want.  We have to give them what they need; not ‘edutainment’, not wall-to-wall excitement; not simply a faster horse.

For me, now 54, my worry is that we throw the baby out with the bathwater.  The standard still remains that we are in charge and we need to help students understand how to become autonomous and masters of their own destiny in short manageable steps.  Let the rope out slowly like any quality abseiling coach.  Facilitating and carrying out ‘assessment’ activities for the sake of it, isn’t the way.  Reading to them or letting them read only for 5 minutes, just in case they get bored, isn’t the way.

Teaching and supporting them through quality activities will lead them to the higher moral purpose; to love education and learning for its own sake.  That might sound a bit cheesy, but they need to love your subject even when you’re not there anymore.  And that’s why today’s lesson with Year 7 is going to be so good.  Citizenship in action; learning about citizenship whilst being a good citizen; completing a task that’s going to take some good old BLP perseverance; me showing them that they need more than a faster horse.

It’s warm, a warm February day and the heating is still up too many notches.  Both Room 304 and I are hot.  It must just be me because the students seem cool and calm as they enter the room.  We are at a good point in our relationship and I rarely have to get anywhere near the ‘death-stare’ of the early days, but it’s lingering there if I need to unleash the beast within.  I still let them sit where they wish and only move anyone if they let me down.

“Today we are going to practise the skill of perseverance.”

“What’s that sir?” I was waiting for that.

“Well … lots of adults complain about young people like yourselves today, saying that you can’t concentrate for more than 5 minutes.  I know you can prove them wrong today.  Perseverance is all about carrying on with what you’re doing even though you might hit an obstacle or find things difficult.  You keep on persevering until you finish.  It’s kind of like all those people who run the London Marathon each year.

“My Mom did the marathon,” G says, with a big proud smile, “but she said never again!” 

“Yes!  Just like that, she persevered and finished.  I bet she felt good?”

“Are you kidding Sir, she never got out of bed for 2 days!”  Riotous laughter.  G is funny. The laughter dies down.

“OK.  Here’s how we are going to persevere today.  I am going to show you 7 sets of images about aspects of citizenship and you have to answer these 5 questions about each set.”  I show them the questions on Powerpoint 1, which include questions about their opinions.  “Our objective is to gather information about each set of images so for homework you can write an article for the school magazine.”

“A real article?” M asks.

“Yes a real article, but it has to be worthy of publishing.  That’s why you need to persevere with this.  I am giving you 4 minutes for each set of images.  At the end of each 4 minutes we move onto the next set.  You need to work quickly.  Have I made that clear?”

I sit down and will stay here until this 30 minutes is up.  I am determined not to move.  I put up the first set of images and the questions and chatter begins.  It’s purposeful chatter though and every minute I remind them of the time left.  They are concentrating on the job in hand.  Scribbling fast.  Chat. Scribble. Chat. Scribble. 

“Time’s up! Next set of images.”  There’s no turning back.  No giving in.

“Sir!!” 

“4 minutes left for image set 2.”  Plod on. Less chatter with more scribble.  More staring at the images and the questions.

“Sir, this is hard.”

“Yes. Persevere. Keep going.”  More silence.  Less chat.  More scribble.  I like it.

We are now at the 5^th set of images and A is beginning to get restless.  He turns around and interrupts K.

                “A … have you finished?”  I say softly and I look at the back of his head.  He’s a clever boy as over the weeks he’s worked out why I say that.  His chair legs return to the floor and he carries on without eye contact. 

                “Set 7, the last set,” I announce and they breathe a sigh of relief.  “4 minutes left.”

Silent scribble.  “Last 3 minutes to gather information for your article.” Think of your writing in the glossy magazine and your parents proudly reading it.”  I feel like a fitness instructor putting his class through a gruelling spinning class.

                “OK.  Pens down and relax!  You’ve worked hard and persevered at that and the pay-off is that your homework is going to be easy now!  Planners out please and write this down.  They write reluctantly. “You can be proud of how you persevered with that exercise.  It wasn’t easy, but you did it.” 

Not everyone though. 

As I walk around watching homework go into planners I look at K’s book.  I see the first set of images have been commented upon but no more; 6 set of comments missing.  “Hello K.  Show me your comments from the last 6 sets of images.”  I hope they are over the page, but I fear not.  He looks at me blankly.  I wait.  I wait in hope.  I wait in the hope he can perform magic.  I look into his eyes but nothing comes out of his mouth.  Not a murmur. “Have you done it K?”  Nothing.  “K?”  Nothing.  I don’t want to spoil the atmosphere so I say nothing and walk away; for now.                                                             As the lesson ends I make my move.  As I release them all name by name, I leave K ‘til last and as he stands behind his chair I say, “K, how are you going to do your homework without your notes on the images.”
            “I don’t know Sir.” He looks hapless. My objective is for him to do his homework, not find the spurious reason for him not doing it. 

“Well, tomorrow come and see me and I will give you the sheets to help you.”     
“Yes Sir.”  I’ll get to the reason at a later date.  It’s not important right now.

What is important is he needs to know that he didn’t persevere.  Didn’t plough on when things got tough.  Didn’t soldier on when things were difficult.  That’s what the chat will be about when he’s completed his homework.                                                                                                                                                       This young citizen is not going to get molly-coddled by me.  He needs more than just what he wants. He needs more than a faster horse.