Usually when I think of this phrase, it's about us teachers, arms linked in unity,
squaring up to the little perishers we teach, or putting on a united front if a parent goes
for the jugular. But in this case, I'm thinking of a subsection of teaching staff, the
"have nots".
For there to be "have nots", of course there must be those who "have". In this situation,
I'm sticking out a sulky bottom lip because there are certain teachers in my school who
have all the necessary equipment to guarantee the kids come flocking to their lessons with
gay abandon - okay, of course I exaggerate - but these teachers have things I covet, and it
fills me with envy. Need to show a video? Pah! These teachers consign videos
to museums - it's so
1980s, darling. Instead, they slip a DVD into their laptop, power up the interactive
whiteboard (or the second rate option, focus the projector), and skip straight past the rude
bits in "Romeo and Juliet" without the kids trying to get a glimpse of bare breast in fast
motion.
Or what better way to engage the kids in a lesson by getting them to make their own slides for a presentation? Why risk scissors and glue and all the fussing and potential finger-sticking and eye-poking when "cut and paste" is a phrase only to be applied to finding pictures from the internet to add to an online project? Perhaps subject knowledge can be reinforced by playing one of the BBC's excellent online games, or by explaining it to an email penpal?
Oh yes, information and communications technology is a wonderful thing. I know, I've been
a fan since my first click into the world of the internet exactly ten years ago, and even
if my website design skills lack cutting-edge funkiness, I know how to incorporate ICT into
my lessons and I've got the pieces of paper to prove it. Actually, come to think of it, I
never did receive anything to prove I aced my New Opportunities Fund training, but then again,
I don't think that particular piece of paper would be worth anything anyway.
I'm the kind of teacher that used to grab the ICT supplements from the paper with great
enthusiasm, filing useful articles in the appropriate places in my schemes of work, and
bookmarking useful websites with obsessive fervour. But these days I can't bear to flick
through any more articles featuring smiling teachers photographed against a background of a
suite of state of the art computers, scanners and printers. I feel like they're gloating at me,
just like the teachers in my school who swan about with laptops. What I really don't
need is yet another bright spark telling me how I could use this or that to enhance my
teaching. I feel like I'm stuck in the Dark Ages, because I've been forgotten in this
ICT revolution. Whilst my next door classroom requires sunglasses to walk past the open
door, lest the glare of the interactive whiteboard dazzle me into spontaneous technology
worship, I make do with a solitary PC, un-networked and quite frankly, pretty much unloved.
There must be teachers out there who would love to have a PC in the classroom, and who could tell me of the thousand ways I could incorporate it into my every lesson. I know, alright. I'm just not happy about it. It gets used - and then it crashes. I try to love it, I honestly do, but children fighting over the use of the PC is just one more hassle I could do without. Do you know how many lessons it would take to let every child in the class have their turn on the PC?
On top of that, there's the pupil's perspective. Once they've been
dazzled by the truly multi-media experience of Mrs Flash next door with her all-singing, all-dancing, all-working PCs, why should they be pacified with the promise of a five minute blast
on a PC that takes ten minutes to whirr into action? In fact, why should they sit still
for even five minutes and squint at my diagrams etched onto the blackboard? Well, they don't.
I fear that their experience in my lessons will taint their view of the subject, and that
they will forever associate the subject with chalkdust particles floating in the rays
of brilliant light that beam through from next door.
Even if I add "lust" to the catalogue of deadly sins that I'm compiling, at least I don't look likely to get anywhere near a full set in the near future. With more funding cuts for next year, I fear I shall never feel the pleasure of gluttony that is wallowing in an excess of technology.
added 14/4/04
© Copyright laws apply to the contents of this website. 2003, 2004