So there it is, term one over, done and dusted. Just in time for those long holidays that we teachers revel in… except, hold on, everyone else seems to have just as much of a holiday too. Where’s the fairness in that?! Finally a little bit of Christmas spirit is sinking in, as opposed to what you may read at Precious Moments.
It’s a giddy-with-excitement feeling to be sat at home at just after nine on a
Monday morning, although I wish I’d stop thinking to myself that I’d be in assembly
right now, or taking the register. When I got in on Friday evening, feeling a slight
sense of anti-climax, I left my watch on the kitchen table and it’s still there now.
But it takes a while to stop clock-watching and allocating slots of time to
activities. My brain is now trained to think along the lines of “Okay, washing up
will take ten minutes, by which time the oven will be warmed up, so I’ll move onto
the main activity of preparing the vegetables, where the outcome will be enough
peeled vegetables for four people…”. The voices in my head. They drive me mad.
The first weekend of the holidays has got to be the best, though. There’s no sense
of impending doom as the back to school day becomes closer. Popping into my local on
the way home on Friday was probably a bit of a mistake though. Every bank employee
and office worker seemed to have spent the afternoon wrapped in neck-strangling
tinsel whilst knocking back cava by the bottle-load, and had now decamped to the pub.
It was a great atmosphere I suppose, but I felt like a gate-crasher with the chalk
dust still fresh on my sleeves and no paper hat to set atop my weary head. Needless
to say, I was in bed by ten, but enjoyed everybody else’s inebriation through the
nonsensical text messages on my phone the next day.
Still, an early night gave me the advantage on Saturday, when I headed out for a
Christmas shopping expedition, expecting to do battle with hoards of irate shoppers.
It was a pleasant surprise, therefore, if not slightly disconcerting, to find the
shops mostly empty, except for slightly hungover sales assistants looking bewildered
at the lack of shoppers around. After an efficient shopping trip I threw caution to
the wind and spent the rest of Saturday reading tabloids, watching rubbish on TV, and
then conforming to all stereotypes of teacher uncoolness by playing Scrabble until
2am. It was only in retrospect that I realised I’d set up my own league tables and
was trying to get a value-added score each game by beating my score in the previous
game. Dammit.
Perhaps the sweetest moment came at half five on Sunday morning, when I felt I had no reason not to give in to my insomnia moment, and so padded into the living room to watch whatever it is they show on TV at that time of morning, which seems to be either Countdown (which just makes me feel stupid and insecure about my Scrabble score) or a Christmas film for kids about a guy planning to rob a bank dressed as Santa. Or something. By this time staring at my bedroom ceiling with insomnia seemed like a preferable option, but it was the best move because the next thing I knew was that it was nearly midday.
After such a rock and roll weekend, what else was Sunday for but to relax?
And after a blitz on the housework inspired by such a beautifully blue sky outside,
I settled down to read the two-foot high pile of papers and magazines I’d been saving
for such an occasion. Starting at half three, I stopped for meal breaks and to watch
an hour-long programme on TV, and eventually tossed the last paper in the recycling
box at just after midnight. I wondered how many words I had read: was it the same
as reading a novel? Or two? Why isn’t it so satisfactory though? These were the
thoughts buzzing around in my head as I tried to get to sleep, and found that
sleep comes a lot easier when you’re not running through lists of things you
mustn’t forget for work in the morning.
I’ve decided that with all this spare time I might take up carol singing. I discovered that one boy I teach made £90 in one night carol singing. He isn’t really known for his angelic voice, but neither is he the kind who would menace old ladies on their doorsteps. It would be interesting to see life from the kids’ points of view for some insight into their worlds, and their views of the world we all share. I’m not sure how much we would learn from it though, as I had a small taster recently, which I’ve written about in Kid Vision.
Anyway, season’s greetings to all! I’m off now to forget about my job for two
weeks, which really is easier said than done, but with the help of the festive drinks
selection I’m going to try my best!
You can contact me here.
If you believe what you read in the papers, we’re all currently swamped with
Christmas party invitations, and in desperate need of advice on how to turn our day
time outfit into a night time party look as we dash between social engagements.
Frankly, I don’t believe in what I read in the papers, which is lucky for me
because otherwise I’d currently feel like the loneliest person in Britain. I’ve
still been lugging home bagfuls of marking each evening, and the only accessorising
I’ve been doing is adding holly clipart to worksheets. Cliques of teachers may have
been sneaking off for a café lunch and mince pie, but I haven’t yet had the
opportunity to guzzle dubious mulled wine or pull a cracker or end up with tinsel
round my neck. And it’s all a bit sad really.
This year I haven’t been down the pub since before half term, consequently the
opportunity to sip a beer gazing at the fake presents under the real fir tree hasn’t
presented itself. I’ve been missing out the experience of wasted old men staggering
around the pub with mistletoe, trying to corner white-legged girls swigging alcopops.
My palate has not yet sampled the delights of the creamy liqueurs that seem so
festive when the bell rings for last orders. I haven’t slurred my words to any
Christmas songs, nor had the chance to overindulge just because “it’s that time of
year”. Whilst my liver is thanking me, my sense of goodwill isn’t, so with only a
handful of days until the end of term, it doesn’t feel like Christmas to me one
little bit.
If schools were Dickens characters, mine would be Scrooge. No staff
party, no easing up on teaching, and no decorations allowed, although try telling
that to the Year 11s who delighted in shredding their worksheets into confetti as
they attempted to make snowflakes when they should have been learning where they
went oh so wrong in their exams.
Even when treats are planned for the kids there’s such an air of ingratitude that I want to shove them head first up the nearest chimney, and not to hunt down Santa either. Announce that there will be prizes after the general knowledge quiz and the little blighters try to bargain it out first to see if it’s worth their while. Give the pupils a sparkly pencil instead of the usual chocolate and they turn their noses up. Even mini bars of chocolate are greeted with sniffs of “I don’t like that one”. Where have all the manners gone? I’m lucky to hear a “thank you” during the course of any one day.
Therefore it’s in the spirit of bah humbug that I share with you the embarrassment
that comes from saying the wrong thing in the classroom in
Catchphrase. I’m off to
hunt down a yule log. The chocolate covered kind of course.
Fed up with the time of year too? You can contact me here
I’ve been quite prolific this time, and I just can’t understand why. Oh, maybe
I can, when I realise that by updating this website I’m putting off the more
urgent chores I’m supposed to fill up my weekend with, like the little jobs
around the home that have grown to be pretty massive jobs, and the inevitable
list of school-related tasks. It makes me feel less guilty than if I were to
spend the day Christmas shopping or watching DVDs back to back, for example.
Is it nearly Christmas yet? I can't tell because October to December see the shops flooded with stuff designed to overexcite children. But it must be, because I'm feeling very run down - as if by a juggernaut, in fact. Sore throat, tongue swollen up in mouth, over dependance on vitamins and general acceptance that I'm getting paid whether I waste my voice trying to quieten down children or just stand there with my arms crossed waiting for them to shut up of their own accord.
However, I can still type with chilly fingers, so
here they are, the new additions, for which I’m beginning to scrape the
bottom of my clip-art barrel. First up is a rant in traditional style, about
the Hassles that one pupil can cause.
You might find Fact Hunt a tad more optimistic,
but then I sink back into seasonal blues
with The Original Twilight Zone . Just to prove
there is no blissful escape even in the wee small hours, I give
you Nightmares , and finally
there’s an example of my love hate relationship with technology
at Virus.
An update on two things I wrote about previously: Ofsted – the musical,
and Teachers’ TV. I received an email from a lady called Liz, who informs me
that Teachers’ TV have filmed the musical in all its satirical glory, so
that’s one programme you really should watch! I just hope it translates well
to the screen, because it really was a funny show when I saw it live.
Another correspondent writes in frustration:
I *have* to let off steam about this and you look like the right outlet. (You can quote me if you want...) I am a science teacher and my school has "included" a girl with Down's. I say included, what they have actually done is put a sweet girl in the lion's mouth of a high school where she is socially isolated and completely lost in my (and all of her??) classes. She's "out of year" so although she is in my Year Nine classes she is actually Year 10... Well, I have had enough of her LSA writing the work for her to copy and her getting nothing from my lessons so I had a great idea.I thought, why not look on the Internet for worksheets designed for primary school kids on the topic we're doing (Gravity and Space) - *sigh*. The problem is the National Curriculum. Space isn't really done in Key Stage 1 (where her reading age is at) but it is done in Key Stage 2. The worksheets I have been able to find are pitched way above her reading age (7 and a half) and besides are beyond her. I just want a simple "these are the facts now colour this in/write a little story" worksheet but there aren't any because of the NC. I would write my own but I have had no training for teaching primary school kids and wouldn't know where to start.
Well, I've wasted 1 and a half hours finding these non-existent worksheets, I'll waste another 1 and a half training myself in making some.
Kel
PS (I think your site is fab)
Well (blush) of course I had to leave the last line in, but there are some serious points raised there about inclusion. I can see the social reasons for including the child in mainstream classes, but as I’m sure I’ve trotted out to chattering pupils a million times, they are in my lesson to learn, not to socialise.
If you have any news, feel like sympathising or sharing your own tales of
woe, or even giving me a virtual shake and a “pull yourself together” type
talk, you can contact me here. I’m off now to sort through
Christmas decorations or report writing, whichever looks most urgent
when the washing up has got the better of me. Until next time!
Ho hum. I must be a very paranoid person, but I must confess I would not like my colleagues to know I write this.
And because of this, what I really really really want to rant about right now is something that realistically
I just can’t share. It’s about a colleague who has annoyed me persistantly so much for about a year now that he deserves
such a kick up the backside, and even public humiliation. But I promise not to sink so low. I do manage to let off a little
steam here though.
Autumn seems to have passed its finest and the trees are now turning a sickly shade of yellow. I’ve taken a good hard look at the trees in daylight, because I’m steeling myself for the return of the dark season. Already I have to leave the house in the dark, and soon it’ll be dark on the way home too. The mornings truly are the worst though, especially when I already feel tired, cold and ratty. You can read an example of how going to work can actually be positive at Look on the bright side.
Half term came and went far too quickly, and I managed a total escape from anything to do with my job, which was blissful.
Maybe that’s why I feel so resentful that yet another of my weekends is consumed with marking. I should also be preparing
some materials, but my heart isn’t in it, and I’ve been dragging my heels about doing school work altogether, especially when
those around me spend their free time doing what the hell they want with no guilt hanging over them. Amazing to think
that on Friday I came home from work exhausted yet laughing at the day’s events, such as the hyperactivity of the younger
kids whenever they remembered it was Bonfire Night, and yet by Sunday I’m cursing the job for intruding upon my precious
weekend. Day of rest? - my arse! Have I seen any fireworks? No, I just haven’t had time. If you have tears, prepare to
shed them now, for I haven't even been able to stay awake to watch the new series of Teachers
on Channel 4 yet. Maybe they put it on so late knowing that a potential audience of teachers will be too
tired to stay up, and so will be forced to buy the DVD when it's released. That’s it, I’m just too fed-up to
moan any more…!
Have the energy to get in touch? Then lift a weary finger and click here.
Apologies if you tried to access this site and it’s not been available. Somebody somewhere
along the line decided to unplug something at the weekend, or hit the wrong switch, or whatever
it is these techno types do. It was right in the middle of me updating it as well, so I couldn’t
check to see what had been uploaded by that point. Kind of like getting dressed to go out and
suddenly all the mirrors disappear so you have no idea if the finished result is acceptable or
whether you look like a mis-matched scarecrow. Well, that’s the excuse I usually give, anyway.
Instead of fretting, I took this failure of technology as a cue not to go for a breezy
autumn stroll, or do a spot of housework, but instead to have a leaf through the Sunday rags.
But there’s no escape from issues concerning education, is there? There were lots of quips about
Prince Harry’s alleged cheating in his A-level art course, usually along the lines of “if you
paid that amount of money per year for your son to be educated and he still only came out with
that grade after cheating, you’d be ruddy well annoyed”. Fair point really. You obviously can’t
get the quality of coaches and cramming these days. Or maybe Prince Hal figured out that his
future would be quite cosy whether or not he knuckled down to his school work. Who knows.
The other big news was the upcoming reform of GCSEs and A-levels, to be replaced by a four stage diploma. It all sounds a bit American high school, but as long as we don’t start having pep ralleys and credits for cheerleading, I don’t mind. I guess I’ll still be teaching the same kind of stuff, just filling in different sorts of forms.
One of the tabloids had the result of a survey which had discovered that one in four kids takes a knife to school. I’m not surprised. But what can we do, short of installing the metal detectors that the paper suggested? We can’t even search kids’ bags any more, without parents phoning up to complain about harassment and the like. There’s been a recent craze at my school to carry bicycle chains as a weapon, disguising it as jewellery when it’s not being used to whip other children, if you can imagine such a thing. Confiscation didn’t seem to be high on management’s agenda. They were too busy leafing through documents about the 14-19 reform.
One day a boy in my form came in carrying a long thin box that looked like it could contain a shot-gun. I didn’t even notice at first, as I dealt with everything that needs to be sorted out in the first ten minutes of the school day. But when I caught a look at it out of the corner of my eye, my heart started to beat a little bit faster. This boy was notoriously anti-social, had long-standing problems with many staff members, and we’d recently had a big disagreement about his attitude. Oh, my overactive imagination! I watched out of the corner of my eye as he unclipped the box to show a classmate what was contained within, and almost laughed with relief when he revealed a finely crafted piece of woodwork that he had been making in D&T.
But the point is, it could have been a gun. Many of the boys, and maybe even girls, have air
rifles. Every day trip to France is seen as an opportunity to brush up on the French for, “I’d
like a flick-knife please. Oh, and a couple of those laser pens so that I can try to blind the
coach driver on the way home”. I really don’t know what the solution is, apart from the metal
detectors and random bag searches. Or maybe I should just stop reading the newspapers and get
on with the marking I was putting off for as long as I could, lest the crappy standard of
exercise book presentation awaken some latent violent feelings I’ve been harbouring.
Want to get in touch? Just click here.
Just when I was thinking it might be a good idea to start franchising Ranting Teacher
into other areas, based on the moans of friends and acquaintances, for example
Ranting Doctor and Ranting Administrator, it seems there is no need,
and there’s actually a whole world of people already ranting about their jobs in
hyperspace! Many of them are blogs (see Teachers in Webspace to
learn about blogging), and I’m now joining a couple of web rings so that we can find each
other. I’m not really sure what this involves; at first it sounds sinister, and for all I
know it’s the online equivalent of a coven, but I’ll state right now that I draw the
line at ritual sacrifices, even if it is the smashing of obsolete hardware. Although,
now I come to think of it, that might well be therapeutic enough in itself…
Anyway, go on, take a look. You can find the
links to the web rings on the homepage.
Meanwhile, I’ve been grinning and bearing it all week, only for the façade to slip and me to start muttering under my breath the minute I get to my car. You can read more about what I’m really thinking at Silent Screams. But the good news is that it's only a week until half term! And I'll try to concentrate on that for the next five working days, rather than the clocks going back at the end of the month, the upcoming report writing and mock exams and parents' evenings...
Getting in touch is easy! Just click here.
I thought for one alarming moment back towards the beginning of term that
Ranting Teacher: the website might actually be running out of steam.
After all, I’d whinged about my perennial irritations, and there’s always that first
week or two back when kids haven’t yet remembered how to be annoying, and there’s not
much marking to do, and exercise books are still bastions of underlining and neatness.
Then, dear reader, suddenly the familiar feeling of being totally overwhelmed by work comes crashing back like a tidal wave. Trying to be heroic, I imagined I was Indiana Jones and my troubles were that great ball of rock pounding after me after I’d just rescued / stolen some exotic relic from a complex cave system. I suppose that metaphor has left most of you behind now, like the seaplane taking off without the man that hates snakes…
Hmmm. I digress. My poor addled brain. It will all make more sense if you read about my exhaustion at Sleepworking. And, as you can tell already, the good news is that yes, I do have stuff to rant about. If that can possibly be good news. I also ponder taking a new career direction at Teachers' TV. “But what of the new Workload Agreement, now in its second stage of reducing the tasks, mainly administrative, that teachers have to carry out?” I hear you cry. Aha. Read my comments on that at Did we agree to this?.
It seems there are teachers out there who do find time to get online more frequently
than I do. There's a quick comment on them at Teachers in Webspace .
The sad thing is, as I typed that title just then I was saying it in my head as a "pigs in spaaaace from
The Muppet Show" kind of way. Is it half term yet? I need a holiday...
Meanwhile, I can feel the guilt seeping in now that I’ve wasted precious time on doing something that I actually want to do, ie updating this website at last, rather than the necessities that keep the lessons going and the books marked. So it’s time to get googling in order to plan next week’s lessons. Until next time… if you want to share your aches, pains or headaches, remember that you can get in touch here.
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