A Controversial Position


As an English teacher, it’s a pretty safe assumption that I enjoy reading. To torture a cliche, I love getting lost in a good book: as busy as my workload keeps me, I always try to make time for some pleasure reading. In the English department, we all have a laminated sign on our door that we can update with what we’re currently reading (Lady Chatterley’s Lover if anyone is curious) and we’ve spent a lot of lunchtimes chatting about our favourite books. I surprised one of my senior students by practically leaping out of my chair with joy when he asked me for some reading recommendations, and I love talking to kids about what book they’ve got.

You probably know about all the benefits associated with reading, including how good it is for your vocabulary and your ability to empathise. So encouraging children to read seems like a thoroughly good idea. But here is where I take a slightly controversial position for an English teacher. Sure, reading is fantastic. And sure, I would be over the moon if I could get every single one of my children to enjoy reading as much as I do. But at the end of the day, not everybody likes reading, and forcing children into doing it when they aren’t interested has the potential to do more harm than good.

My brother is the perfect example. I have spent his entire life trying to get him into reading and it has not worked a jot. Going along the traditional lines of ‘he just hasn’t found the right book yet’, I threw everything I could think at him, from The Hound of the Baskervilles after he enjoyed the film, to Jurassic Park because it had dinosaurs in it. Nothing got him interested, and I eventually gave up. But is he any the worse for not liking reading? I would argue no. He loves films and music which has filled the vocabulary void nicely and his critical faculties are none the weaker for the fact that he’s never had to apply them to a good book. He can argue, empathise, communicate and engage as effectively as I can. All my constant shoving had done was turn him off to the pleasures of reading.

My brother at home is one thing, but a classroom of kids is another. Forcing children who aren’t interested into reading can have disastrous consequences. At one of my placement schools, junior classes began each English lesson with ten minutes of silent personal reading and had one library period a week. For the kids who loved reading, this wasn’t a problem: they would take out their books and read happily. But for those who didn’t, getting them settled and quiet was incredibly difficult. At best, they would sit and do nothing for the ten minutes; at worst, they would use the idle time to argue with you, to act out, to distract the other children….After that, getting them engaged in your lesson was nigh on impossible. The opening moments of the class are vital because it’s there that you get their attention and interest in what they’ll be doing. If you’ve spent the first ten minutes of class doing nothing because you don’t like reading, then how energised and interested are you going to be for the rest? And if you’ve spent that time arguing with a kid who refuses to sit in silence as you’ve asked, what frame of mind does that put you in as a teacher before you begin? There are other ways for teachers to develop vocabularies and encourage empathy in the classroom without the risk of disengaging kids who don’t like reading. And in a world of Netflix, social media and other screen based joys for kids to entertain themselves with, reading is arguably having a tough enough time keeping up without turning potential fans off by stuffing it down their throats when they’re not interested.

So as much as I love reading, and as wonderful and beneficial as it can be, I am not going to be that teacher at parents’ night who prescribes reading as the miracle cure for doing well at school/life. Kids will either find the right book at the right time, or they won’t: either way, forcing them into the library is not the way to turn them onto the pleasure of a good book.


Five New Things


So…it begins…Term Two! I’ve just finished my first day and as knackering as it was, I really enjoyed being back in the classroom. Over the holidays, I read a fantastic blog over at Life Through a Mathematician’s Eyes about ten things that she had learned during her first term of teaching, so in a similar vein here are five new things I’ve learnt about teaching from last term.

1.) It is always better to go in early to do schoolwork than it is to stay behind late. I got this tip from another friend in the profession and although the prospect of dragging yourself out of bed any earlier than necessary may seem horrendous, it is not so bad once you’ve done it the first time. Keeping a sensible school/world balance has been very important to me, and this helps me do that because when four o’clock comes round, I know I am good to go home and relax.


2.) Observed lessons are nothing to fear! For more details, check out my earlier post, Ditching the Pass/Fail Mindset.

3.) Going through jotters is a legitimate joy. I absolutely adore going through my class’ jotters, whether it’s to mark an exercise or to just have a look at how they’re doing. This is especially true after a nightmare lesson when you’ve convinced yourself that they have learnt precisely zero – have a look through their jotters and you may be surprised at what’s in there!

4.) You should never label or attempt to predict what your classes will do on any given day. And this works both ways; I’ve had days where my ‘good’ class have driven me up the wall, and days where my ‘bad’ class have been the best class of the day. Children are children, they’re unpredictable beings and I’ve learnt to love that – it makes the job endlessly fascinating!

5.) This job is all about the learning. I’ve saved the best for last; my mentor told me this when I was beating myself up about being too hard on a difficult class because I was worried I was affecting our relationship. It has been my go-to lifeline ever since! As a teacher, your job is not there to be liked. You are there to teach, to make sure that your class is learning. So if you have to be strict to make learning happen, that’s what you need to do.Start a learning diary and at the end of each day, make a note of what you think your class have learnt that lesson. If it’s zero, then reflect and work out why then make a note of how you are going to make that better in the next lesson. It wasn’t the easiest bridge in the world to cross for me, because I want the kids to like me. But I’m glad I did because it now means my teaching is clearly focused on the learning, which is where it needs to be.


The Classroom Chat Show


Hello! I hope you’re having a lovely October break removed from the classroom; here’s a little something that you might like to try when you return for Term No. 2!

At the start of the school year, I asked my junior classes (S1-S3) to write me a letter telling me different things about themselves including their favourite subject. I didn’t take a tally, but Physical Education and Drama were subjects that appeared again and again. While my classroom is a tad on the small side for any serious physical learning, I do have room for a bit of drama and it’s something that’s worked well for me before. One of my favourite things to do along those lines is The Classroom Chat Show which is an exercise you can do with just about any text that focuses on characterisation.

First you ask your class if they’re familiar with the idea of a chat show; chances are, they will be, but you can also play a clip from one if not. I’ve always targeted the more bombastic chat shows to use as examples – Jerry Springer or Jeremy Kyle style fireworks seem to make the exercise more appealing to kids! Then you assign roles, either by randomly picking children or by coming up with a cast list in advance. You want between five and seven children to play characters from the text and one host; the rest of the class will act as members of the audience. I’ve always preferred to assign roles in advance because it prevent arguments on the day and means you can pick children who you think will be right for each role. I’ve used it as an opportunity to give quieter kids the chance to be centre stage as one of the characters from the story; on the other hand, not every child will have the maturity and confidence to handle being the host.

After everyone has their role, explain each one in detail so that the children know exactly what is expected of them. The characters must revise their knowledge of the text so that they know what their character is like and what their role in the text is. The audience must come up with good questions to ask the characters on the show. The host has the hardest job as they must have a good understanding of the text and have an idea of where they want the discussion on the show to go. They also have to gather questions from the audience and moderate discussion so that every character has the chance to contribute. As difficult as this may seem, I’ve found that kids really like the responsibility and challenge of the role and respond well to it. Obviously, use your common sense and pick kids who you think will fit each role. Then give them between 15 and 20 minutes to prepare; use this time to circulate and check in with each child to make sure they understand their role and what is expected of them.

After the class have had time to prepare, set up some chairs at the front of the classroom and let them go! Stand at the back to moderate the task, but unless the class begins acting wildly out of control then leave the management of the chat show to your host. It’s a lot of fun watching what your class come up with; while they must remain true to the text, their interpretation of each character is entirely up to them so they can be as creative as they like! I did this exercise using Philip Pullman’s cracking drama adaptation of Frankenstein and the kid I chose for Victor played him as an overprotective father who would not believe his creation capable of stealing food. Another kid who had been assigned the role of the Inspector from An Inspector Calls played him as a French gumshoe who had a fondness for terrible puns.

As well as allowing creativity, this is a great exercise for engaging children with the characters from the text in a more exciting manner than simply drawing up character charts or mind maps. You can build in a written exercise to follow up to ensure that the learning is not lost in the fun of performance by asking children to reflect on what they have learned about each character or to answer a specific question. This activity worked brilliantly with An Inspector Calls as before the chat show, the class were asked to rank the members of the Birling family in order of who they felt was most responsible for Eva’s death.After their performance, they were then asked to reconsider their answers to see if there was any difference in how they saw the characters. This activity also works well with a range of ages; I’ve done it for S1 with Frankenstein and for S5 with Hamlet.

Would you give this idea a go in your classroom? Let me know in the comments and feel free to get in touch with your results!

Fingers and Toes


I guess I won’t be telling anybody anything new when I start this post by saying that teaching is difficult. It’s not an easy thing to do, whatever subject or whatever level you’re doing it at. Is it worth while? Definitely! But there are going to be days when you feel that it isn’t, days when you feel like all you’ve done is bang your head against a brick wall again and again. I’ve had those, and I’m guessing you might have done as well. As terrible as those days can feel, hang in there! Because at the end of the day, the truth is that your love and enthusiasm for teaching will help you through. And if you’re as lucky as I am, you also have a flotilla of friends, family and classmates looking out for you as well. This post is about one of those people:my wonderful partner, who has helped me through my blackest days with little tricks like the one I’m about to tell you about.

I’d had an awful day. One of my classes had been particularly difficult and it was all I could think about. My partner came home from work and found me slumped on the sofa in a terrible state. After I’d bawled on him for a minute (or, err, fifteen!) he asked me to tell him why I was so upset. I told him about my difficult class and everything that had happened that I couldn’t get out of my head. He then asked me to tell him about the good things that had happened in the day. I’d had other classes that had gone much better, so I told him about those as well. It was mainly full of little things; my first years had done well with their essays, I’d gotten some good feedback from another teacher on my third years, a pupil had told me she liked my dress, things like that. After I’d told him everything, my partner said ‘I’ve been keeping count of everything you told me. Do you know how many bad things you told me about?’

I shook my head, but I knew it had to have been hundreds to have upset me so badly. He showed me four fingers and said ‘Four bad things. And do you know how many good things you told me?’ I guessed maybe seven. And my wonderful partner bent over, pulled off his socks and slippers, wiggled all his fingers and toes at me and said with a massive smile on his face ‘Twenty! Twenty good things about today!’

The effect was instantaneous;it put a smile on my face as big as his and I felt immediately better about the day. Sure, it hadn’t been perfect – but twenty good things was phenomenal! It really put things into perspective and made me see how easy it was to let a handful of bad things throw off your entire perception of one day. I’d given so much attention to the things that hadn’t gone well and had completely written off the things that had made it a good day. For whatever reason, my brain will always cling to the negatives over the positives, and that’s what upsets me. (Does your brain do that too? Please feel free to comment, I’m curious!)

I won’t advise you to completely disregard things that go wrong – you won’t learn how to be better if you do – but nor can you let those things beat you up and upset you. Constructive reflection is how you do that; be as objective as you can about what happened, work out why it may not have been as effective as you were hoping, and then come up with a plan to make it better. As my partner has told me, you’ve only failed if you haven’t learnt from your mistakes. And you will make them, I’m sorry to say; it’s part of the job. But that’s not a bad thing, as long as you use your mistakes to adjust your practice and become better.

So don’t let a handful of bad things ruin your mood; constructively reflect, make a plan, and then let them go. Because the chances are that there have been plenty of positives that you may have forgotten about!

The Art of Give and Take


So this is a post about That Class. You know the one I mean? The class who send you running for your finest bottle of Japanese whisky (or whatever comfort bottle you run to!) at the end of the teaching day? Who maybe raise your hopes by randomly listening to that one lesson at the start of the week before cruelly dashing them by being little gits again the next? That Class.

If you don’t have such a class, then I commend you – well done! But chances are you probably do, and if you’re anything like me then you’ll probably have spent many an evening desperately racking your brains for something that’ll make a difference. And, like me, you may have found yourself considering The Reward System. You know the type of thing; if your class behaves well, they get a sticker. The more stickers they get, the closer they get to some fabulous reward. I’d toyed with reward systems as a student teacher with varying results: I had a lovely second year class who adored it, and a not so lovely second year class who may as well have set my carefully structured reward chart on fire for all the improvement it made to their behaviour. But this time, I figured, it can work. It’ll turn around That Class. So I printed off charts and a display, prepared my stickers (smiley faces) and went in. We discussed the rules, which I’d kept deliberately simple, and I even gave them their first smiley face for free given the massive improvement in the class’ behaviour. ‘We still had a couple of hiccups’ I’d said, ‘but we were better today. Well done!’

So you can maybe understand my optimism when I went in for my second lesson with them. And that too, was a good lesson. I called home in utter ecstasy – ‘I think I’ve cracked them Dad!’ To which my dad, very wisely, replied ‘You shouldn’t say that about any class, but well done.’

He wasn’t kidding. By the end of the week, the class had me in pieces again. My other second years were stacking up stickers like there was no tomorrow; these lot had defaulted back to ‘Little Git’ mode. It got to the point where they had three stickers on their chart; two of them had been freebies for the initial improvement in their behaviour and the other had been given to them for the lesson we’d had a full fire drill where they’d managed to spend twenty whole minutes in class without breaking any of the rules. I’d been advised to stand by my guns, to insist on the standards I’d set, not to yield a single thing. Me teacher. You students. Me In Charge.

After a few weeks with no progress, I decided to scare them. Our Friday class feedback question was an out and out declaration of war. ‘Your teacher is seriously considering getting rid of the reward system.’ the board read on that Friday, ‘Should the system stay or go? Why?’. After verbal confirmation that yes indeed, their teacher was being serious, the class wrote their answers down on their post-it notes and we had a discussion about it. It turned out to be one of the most constructive class discussions I’ve held so far.

Most of the class were horrified at the idea that my other second year class could earn Cake Day if they couldn’t, but they also accepted that the system wasn’t working to improve their behaviour. A few of them were for ditching it completely as they weren’t convinced that the class could ever pull together, behave and get enough stickers to earn Cake Day. But then one girl put her hand up and made a brilliant point. The current system meant that once a member of the class was given a warning, and then a Level One, the class couldn’t have their sticker. At my school, a warning and a Level One amount to pretty much the same thing – there’s no additional sanction at Level One. So what was happening was that the same suspects were consistently hitting Level Ones and then the rest of the class was thinking ‘No point in behaving now, we’re not getting our sticker anyway.’

Why don’t we change the system, she suggested, to accommodate Level Ones to give the usual suspects more opportunity to amend their behaviour before the sticker went out the window. Rather than stamp my feet, insist on my standards, pull the plug – I listened. And said ‘Hey, that’s a good idea. What does everybody else think?’. The class were keen: Cake Day could be saved! ‘Ok, so let’s trial it for today, and if it works today then we’ll trial it for next week and see where we go from there.’

They got their sticker. And they kept on getting their stickers. And now, we’re two stickers away from Cake Day. I don’t dread teaching them anymore – they may even secretly be my favourite class. Full credit has to go to learning how to give and take. Unmovable Miss. Teacher didn’t work; the more I imposed my view of how things should be on them, the more they seemed to fight against me. But by meeting the kids half way rather than insisting on maintaining unyielding control over them, we’ve made progress. They’re still a bouncy, unruly class at times, but I’ve not had to crack open a Level Two (yet!) because they know they’ve been given a second chance and have had a say in how things work. While I’m not planning on forgetting my dad’s words however well things have gone recently, I also think that me and my class have worked something out together.

It’s just like I told them, in true inspiring movie teacher fashion: ‘This cannot just be about me standing here telling you stuff. We have to work at this together, or it’s not going to work. This is our classroom and we have to make it work together.’

Ditching the Pass/Fail Mindset


If you went/go to a university where the teaching qualification is taught in a similar way to the way mine did, you may experience the same shivers that I did when The Observed Lesson is mentioned.At my university, your tutor would observe you teach two lessons and it was on a pass/fail basis.Let me tell you how that would go –

First, you prayed like crazy that your tutor would choose your best class, your favourites – you know, the ones who listen to you and follow your instructions without telling you to shut up. Then, once you found that out, you started work on your lesson plan. You submitted a masterpiece of a lesson plan that had been pimped and critiqued and sweated over like no other lesson plan you’d ever made before. Then there’s The Day. And before you’d even started, the bees are suspicious. Your class knows that something is different. There’s a Someone they don’t know in the back of their classroom. You can see the cogs in their minds spinning. Do you introduce your tutor? Do you ignore the whirling cogs and begin? Whatever you chose, it doesn’t change the fact that your lovingly planned lesson with all its bells and whistles is done and dusted in less than an hour. Which doesn’t seem fair considering the length of time you spent planning it.  And all the time, the only thing in your mind is that this observation is pass/fail. Sure, it’s not the end of the world if you fail – you’re still going to get valuable feedback –  but that’s the overriding goal.  The feedback is marginalised because all you want to know during that blood freezing chat you have with your tutor afterwards to discuss the lesson is whether you’ve passed or failed.

Now, my university only observed two of the many lessons I taught as a student teacher. And while I have my issues with that system of assessment, it was only two lessons. But it wasn’t until my mentor at my probationary school asked me which class I wanted to be observed with for the first of my numerous observed lessons that I realised the impact of those two lessons on me. ‘Which class would you like to be observed with?’ she asked.

‘My first years.’ I immediately replied, instinctively going for my favourite class.They behave, they respect me, I haven’t had a dud lesson with them so far.

‘Ok,’ my mentor said after I’d explained my choice, ‘but what do you think you’ll learn from an observation with that class?’

And my whole perspective on observation changed. This observation wasn’t designed as a test to trip me up or as a potential barrier to my teaching education. My feedback wasn’t going to be framed as a pass/fail assessment, it was all there to help me become a better teacher. It had probably always been like that, but the pass/fail aspect of my university observations had made me afraid of it. Once that idea was removed, so was my fear of observation. I’ve had two observations now and have a third in a fortnight. I’ve deliberately chosen my worst classes, the ones I need help with, because I know that the observation is another source of help that I can use in a positive way.

So if you have a university observation coming up, try not to let the pass/fail aspect of it bother you; it’ll stress you out and that won’t do you any good. Prioritise the feedback because feedback is only going to help you get better at what you do. Good luck, and remember; you’ve got this!

Why Teaching From The Front?


There are two questions here that I want to answer; why choose Teaching From The Front as my blog title, and why start a teaching blog at all?

So why Teaching From The Front? As old fashioned as teaching from the front of the classroom seems, it’s my preferred method of teaching. I know that may sound unpopular given that the current trend is for active learning, children finding things out for themselves rather than being fed stuff from the front, all that jazz. And there is a place for that in the classroom; one of my favourites when teaching poetry is to give the kids time to work in pairs annotating the poem before I even say a word about it.

But there also has to be room for you to speak, for you to pass on your knowledge from the front of the classroom. One of my biggest forehead smack moments from university was when one of our lecturers told us ‘Are children learning in spite of us?’, to which my immediate mental response was ‘Then what on earth are we all wasting our time becoming teachers for?’ If active learning is all there is in your classroom, then why are we there? It doesn’t take five years of university study and countless years of life experience to give a class a text and let them figure it out for themselves. If you teach from the front, you give yourself value, the knowledge you have value,  your role as a teacher value. And if there’s anything we can all agree on at the minute, it’s that teachers need to be more valued.

To my second question; why start a blog at all? I have a couple of reasons for this. My first reason is a good old fashioned, slightly idealistic, whole hearted desire to help. What’s struck me most about teaching has been the incredibly supportive nature of the profession. I have never had an issue or a problem that I haven’t been able to solve by falling back on the support I get from my classmates or my workmates or the massive network of teachers who have all posted their thoughts on teaching online. I want to be part of that, so please don’t hesitate about getting in touch on anything you read here or anything that’s bothering you. I won’t pretend to be an expert, but my advice is yours if you want it!

My second reason is similarly corny – I love teaching. Given that teaching wasn’t ever my original plan, the biggest surprise for me has been how well I’ve clicked with it. I love doing professional reading, I’m fascinated by classroom dynamics, I adore building relationships with my classes, I even enjoy going through jotters marking homework! So writing about it in my free time? You bet!