It takes a lesson where I am able to talk about “Of Mice and Men” to show me that there is still pleasure to be found in teaching!
Obviously this novel is one which is almost absurdly perfectly designed for GCSE teaching, but even in a school where the majority of the pupils’ first language is not English it is still very successful. Talking about the structure of the novel and character and incident was an almost indecent delight!
It shows up, with remarkable sharpness the basic aridity of the instruction which I usually patter out on a day to day basis to my classes. My almost pathological ability to respond to any stimulus (no matter how slight) which allows me to indulge my true passion for digression is limited in this school by the fact that we are all chained to text books and that any ‘falling behind’ is instantly picked up by my class from the progress of the two other classes which are usually being instructed in tandem with my own.
Because of the examination and test culture which runs the school, any omission (real or imagined) in the teaching is instantly pounced on by the pupils who expect to be spoon fed with information at every opportunity. They are a ‘needy’ lot who always (and I mean always) have an excuse ready to justify their outraged amour-propre when they are seen to fail. Talking to a history teacher, he said that after every test he gives he is surrounded by pupils who demand to know why they only have a 2 or 3 out of 10 for their results. He tries to explain that they have put faulty information in their answers; dates are incorrect and locations which are way out. Their response to this is, “But I studied!” As if effort should be its own reward irrespective of any accuracy in their responses! That tells you a lot about the way our school operates!
Time ticks on and I have managed to get some time off school tomorrow so that I can greet my guests at a rather earlier time that my customary half past five in the evening. I am typing this in a lesson which I am taking (well, baby-sitting) for the science teacher who has now been absent for three days. All future absence should therefore be covered by a supply teacher. Yeah! Right! As one of my colleagues keeps telling me so that I say this side of sanity, “Remember Stephen, this isn’t Britain.” Indeed it isn’t.
There does appear to be some fragmentary sunshine to lighten up the desultory weather that we have been suffering, but it is neither strong nor consistent enough to justify any strong belief that there is going to be fine weather for the visit of Ceri and Dianne. I hope that climatic events will prove me wrong, but if the weather is anything like the past week then they will go away with a very jaundiced opinion about one of the major reasons for my moving to this part of the world in the first place. But, I live, as always, in hope. And sometimes expectation!
Spain has ‘enjoyed’ a marathon session of Big Brother which has eventually come to a grisly close. Imagine my chagrin to find that some diseased imagination decided that the empty house could be used for a further session with has-beens from previous series! The theme music for this abject apology for entertainment when it rings out on television is enough to make me scurry away like a startled teetotal American evangelist caught in the act of savouring the bouquet of a 40 year Oban single malt from the belly button of a buxom whore with his trousers round about his ankles!
A member of the maths department has rounded on me and gibbered something about my photographs. These are my entry for the Teachers’ Section of the Maths Photography Competition in the School. You know the sort of thing; a photo of something vaguely related to maths - circles of road signs, squares of tiles etc. Last year a senior figure in the school seemed to have it all his own way – it is my function to complicate things this year. I have encouraged a proven competition winner and fellow member of the English department to enter as well. Another colleague has just bought a new camera and I hope she enters too. This year there will be a real competition.
Bring on the Brits!
Obviously this novel is one which is almost absurdly perfectly designed for GCSE teaching, but even in a school where the majority of the pupils’ first language is not English it is still very successful. Talking about the structure of the novel and character and incident was an almost indecent delight!
It shows up, with remarkable sharpness the basic aridity of the instruction which I usually patter out on a day to day basis to my classes. My almost pathological ability to respond to any stimulus (no matter how slight) which allows me to indulge my true passion for digression is limited in this school by the fact that we are all chained to text books and that any ‘falling behind’ is instantly picked up by my class from the progress of the two other classes which are usually being instructed in tandem with my own.
Because of the examination and test culture which runs the school, any omission (real or imagined) in the teaching is instantly pounced on by the pupils who expect to be spoon fed with information at every opportunity. They are a ‘needy’ lot who always (and I mean always) have an excuse ready to justify their outraged amour-propre when they are seen to fail. Talking to a history teacher, he said that after every test he gives he is surrounded by pupils who demand to know why they only have a 2 or 3 out of 10 for their results. He tries to explain that they have put faulty information in their answers; dates are incorrect and locations which are way out. Their response to this is, “But I studied!” As if effort should be its own reward irrespective of any accuracy in their responses! That tells you a lot about the way our school operates!
Time ticks on and I have managed to get some time off school tomorrow so that I can greet my guests at a rather earlier time that my customary half past five in the evening. I am typing this in a lesson which I am taking (well, baby-sitting) for the science teacher who has now been absent for three days. All future absence should therefore be covered by a supply teacher. Yeah! Right! As one of my colleagues keeps telling me so that I say this side of sanity, “Remember Stephen, this isn’t Britain.” Indeed it isn’t.
There does appear to be some fragmentary sunshine to lighten up the desultory weather that we have been suffering, but it is neither strong nor consistent enough to justify any strong belief that there is going to be fine weather for the visit of Ceri and Dianne. I hope that climatic events will prove me wrong, but if the weather is anything like the past week then they will go away with a very jaundiced opinion about one of the major reasons for my moving to this part of the world in the first place. But, I live, as always, in hope. And sometimes expectation!
Spain has ‘enjoyed’ a marathon session of Big Brother which has eventually come to a grisly close. Imagine my chagrin to find that some diseased imagination decided that the empty house could be used for a further session with has-beens from previous series! The theme music for this abject apology for entertainment when it rings out on television is enough to make me scurry away like a startled teetotal American evangelist caught in the act of savouring the bouquet of a 40 year Oban single malt from the belly button of a buxom whore with his trousers round about his ankles!
A member of the maths department has rounded on me and gibbered something about my photographs. These are my entry for the Teachers’ Section of the Maths Photography Competition in the School. You know the sort of thing; a photo of something vaguely related to maths - circles of road signs, squares of tiles etc. Last year a senior figure in the school seemed to have it all his own way – it is my function to complicate things this year. I have encouraged a proven competition winner and fellow member of the English department to enter as well. Another colleague has just bought a new camera and I hope she enters too. This year there will be a real competition.
Bring on the Brits!
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