Leading the way

On Friday, I had a bit of a difficult moment, closely followed by another one. The first one was the old staffroom chestnut. As a Leadership Team member, it's difficult to know what to do when the complaints are coming thick and fast over lunch.
Goodness knows, we are all working very hard and everyone is producing such excellent results but there are still times when we all feel overwhelmed. It was a stick or twist moment and I stuck- I hurriedly left the staffroom.
Later on, I was talking with my class about elements of the Key Stage 1 nativity. One pupil voiced doubts about the choice of production. I tried, as gently as I could, that the decision was beyond a pupil's remit.
There- a paradox.
In the first instance, I wanted less talk about what was wrong and more appreciation of a bigger picture. But in the second, I wanted to limit the considered ambitions of a pupil.
In education, we all talk about distributed leadership. We all talk about pupil voice. But how do we manage this effectively whilst still providing schools with measured and reasonable improvement? On the one hand, we must give the opportunity of influence. But, with the other hand, we must limit that influence and jealously guard decisions and executive power.
Of course, the reality is that the responsibility is placed firmly with posts within school and so we must uphold it accordingly. But there is an ideal in my head where the powers that reside in school could be shared widely and everyone lives up to them.
But, we know the problem with ideals...

It's another week off

Half term when I first became a teacher were a source of real agony for me. I used to worry so much about having a week off, worry about the children and drift aimlessly and helplessly through a week.

Nowadays, I'm a dad and half term this time has been a week of being head cook and bottle washer. There has been little time for the above worry. I share these thoughts with no need for you to express sympathy (unless you'd like to). It's just a thing that has bothered me non stop since I began work.

I have had a lot of nice times over this half term. Not least was my son's first bird-watching trip (he spotted and identified a teal). I had a lovely birthday. We went out as a family. But what is hard are the lack of 'middle gear' times. In term time I will have no time for any of this. And in the holidays, for all except about 12 hours, I have had all the time in the world. I have never reconciled myself to that week away but I now know I have to use that time to recover. And have a real relationship with family and friends.

Most jobs don't have this dilemma as they have no regular weeks off. We are fortunate in that respect. But if anything was to drive me away from teaching it might well be the lack of time in middle gears. To those without sympathy I say just this-people are not digital. It's not easy nor is it advisable to try to switch them on and off.

Not Interactive-but not bored

I had a sense of doom when the lamp went on my projector on Monday. What a week-lesson observations and the class preparing Viking presentations!
Ever since we had fitted iwb's in our school, I have used mine as the main and only board. The first job every day is to prepare the slides for every lesson. I use it to model ideas and set up hyperlinks and so much more.
But instead of the disaster I was expecting it turned into a good thing overall. It gave me a chance to revisit some old skool teaching techniques. Most crucially, I found myself becoming a more self reliant communicator. I was engaging the class more personally, not relying on graphics and animation for my lesson.
I suppose the lamp will be replaced soon. But I won't be rushing to fill lesson time with it as much as before. I have realised my delivery needs to be just as interactive as the board!

Braving the next step

I was working with our ICT technician during the week. We were (OK, he was) trying to reinstall an old program for pupils to compose music on. This is because our wonderful music teacher is going to try using ICT in a lesson for the first time. The secretary came in and looked at what we were doing. After a short pause she said "Music on computers. Why does everything have to be on computers now?"

This was of note for two reasons.

The first is that, with a new VLE and with Purple Mash also in school (and with my burgeoning interest in blogging to carry it all on with) I am trying to get so much more done using said computers. This expansion of ICT is met, it has to be said, with either detached interest or frank horror by many colleagues.

So why do it? Well, on Friday, I ran a session using a forum during a half-hour lesson. All pupils typed contributions and there was a lively exchange amongst most pupils. One, however, was content with "Hi guys!" every 15 entries or so. Inadvertently, this pupil was probably preparing their peers for real-life forum use!

But the rest enjoyed it so much. There has also been a wide range of comments added over the weekend. What struck me about these new comments was that there were those who were continuing the debate of the issue of which character was was most guilty in the classic poem 'The Highwayman'. These hardy souls were now debating strongly. However, others have played with the font and relied on vehement repetition to gain influence. Finally, a pupil who remains quiet in class and has average attainment burst in with a post. "What is this? A repeat yourself in as big a font as possible competition?" she stormed.

She would never have thought to be so challenging to their face or in class. But I am sure that the familiarity of the technology, excitement and to an extent the sheer novelty gave license to her courage. But, in a school where the mindset of many pupils/parents remains limited to giving safe answers and the attitude prevails that getting things wrong is bad, this was a crucial and significant sea change. They need to take risks like this more often.

Computers can enable that risk-taking with their relevance, their immediacy and by providing the means to encompass the sheer power of communicating with parents. They create an audience, they create meaning in itself and an end too. For many pupils, it saves the sheer tedium of writing. It develops choices. Genuine creativity is enhanced too by having to choose programs and find different and effective ways of applying their features.

The way forward, though, is beset by problems. Security concerns,  time issues and the doubts of the staff following me where I want to lead loom large. Also, I need to answer crucial questions. How many pupils will this approach actually affect with positive attainment? How many parents will be happy with the time spent in front of a computer? Will ICT take over lessons which could be spent doing something else much more productive?

It is imperative that I answer constructively and with clarity in order to overcome doubts and difficulties in order to make this happen.

So, yes, I want music taught on computers. I want to see more maths, DT, Science and so much more learned by the means of ICT. Also I want blogging, tweeting, and consistently decent and sustainable content on our online magazine.

But most of all, I want to hear that voice, that courageous voice from the forum post, in everything. I am convinced that this will happen once our school accepts that ICT is a mindset more than it is a set of skills or some nice programs to use. So, bravery is required of us all in order to take that next step.

Oh and the other point of interest? The secretary is the wife of the ICT technician. I hope they don't take issues from work home at nights!

A week's journey- you gotta have a plan

This weekend, I was reading around the last comments from the Twitter community Ukedchat having mostly missed the live event on Thursday. The talk this week was all about differentiation, something about which I know I have strong but indistinct thoughts.

As I slipped in and out of the chat, the phrase 'no differentiation' caught my eye. In the modern climate, this is educational sacrilege. Along with the three part lesson, interactive displays, phonics, the use of the interactive whiteboard and teacher modelling, differentiation has a status amongst the powers in education of an unjustified and unevidenced sacred cow. You cannot choose not to do it if you are being observed; the observer would assume that children will not progress without the deployment of a couple of dozen learning styles along with about nine different worksheets (targetted to a level predetermined by AfL)  and a teacher guided group. In the shadows a TA may be navigating an IEP or administering a support programme. 'Everyone is learning because there has been differentiation' is the maxim.

But as I thought about it, I saw that instead of leaving children exposed to not learning, the idea of no differentiation offered a clear outcome for the lesson. Children could have a task and try to get on with it. As they worked through, there would be mistakes and errors. There might be some tension or upset. But there would certainly be learning.

The disconnect that I have experienced over the last few years is that the more I differentiate (i.e. try to manage the learning) the less learning happens. This is worst in maths, where a 'correctly' differentiated lesson results in such smooth progress that little meaning is made by the pupils. So, effectively their skills and knowledge increase well but they are unable to reapply these in any meaningful way. Without the need to discover, to explore, to try and to fail, no-one really learns anything.

On Friday, I gave my class a few challenges. They proved to be adventurous, reflective, imaginative and thoughtful. Then, when we started the maths in a more formal way this dissolved for some pupils. We then talked about why this could be (in a positive and supportive way of course!). The discussion was certainly rewarding for me. One member of the class gave an eloquent explanation of learning styles. Others talked about emotions in a clear and mature way. What became clear was that they wanted to play games, work outside and so on. They argued with inexcapable logic that they would progress if we did fun stuff every day. I would love to deliver informal work every day. But the SATs won't be like that.

So, I planned for the week using differentiation. I shall continue to work with groups. My colleagues are poised to unleash support programmes. I will, however, experiment with different ways of managing learning, hopefully involving less managing and more learning. Instead, I shall be sure to concentrate on teaching, talking and feeding back. As Terry Pratchett once put it, through the mouth of a character of course, "I might just let you learn."

Autumn Blossom

Over the first couple of posts I reflected on the tension of starting the academic year. As I have looked back over the teaching week, I realise that I have regained the excitement of teaching.

Over this week, the class have responded amazingly well to what has been asked of them. I have been impressed by both outstanding writing and artwork. These are talented children!

But the best part of the week was their response to our annual house captain elections. Naturally, not everyone wanted the job, but I had asked them to think of qualities and to supply relevant questions if they did not want to stand for election. The speeches, presentations and probing questions were a testament to their reflective abilities and their excellent attitude. It was a reminder-a very timely one- that if you want high standards there is no alternative to expecting them.

So, I am resolved to return next week to take more chances and to expect more not just from the class but also from the experiences I offer. I have every confidence they can deliver.

Back...

So, it happens. The start of term. Somewhere in my head, I have decided that I am prepared for the new term. But then, reality sets in and I realise that 30 children are about to descend into my care.

It's a worrying thought as now I realise I am nowhere near as ready as I would like to be. Names to learn, preferred lessons, ways of learning to find out about... The list goes on and on.

This carries on for a week. At least. I am terrible at starting off. I want to do so well that it gets in the way of objectivity. If it is a class I find difficult, then it can last nearly all year. I always want to find the way to help the class succeed.

It's going to be a good year. I know that. But I think it'll be a couple of weeks until I am certain deep in my heart. That'll be the real beginning.

What Will Happen...?

The last night of the School holidays is a strange one for any teacher. There is always talk of the mythical bad dreams and visible, palpable nerves as we try to ease our way back into work.

This has never lessened for me from my first day of teaching (I looked so young and scared that I got offered half fare on the bus). No matter how much I look forward to the next class or getting something done, it never changes. It's hard to say why this is although my Dad had some uncharitable theories.

I guess much of it is down to the performing aspect-always being on show. I find being a teacher such an unnatural way to be. All that fussing over noise, lost pencils, where to sit, whether or not an action will result in occular impairment is just not me. But as a teacher, one has to do it.

This led me to the rather sad conclusion over the Summer. Although I love education, actually I rather dislike schools. Not the one I teach in particularly (not at all; I enjoyed going in over the Summer). It's that lumpen effect that one is required to reach for; the systemic and uniform provision one needs to dole out. Schools are so fear driven that there is little scope for rational action much of the time.  English schools are in danger of becoming like English Town Centres: identical.

Of course, I will give my all to the coming year. The children I teach deserve the very best and I will make sure they get it.

But the bad dream tonight won't be rooted in fear of the unexpected. It will be based upon the terror of rehashing of the over-familiar.