My friend S (letter of the post before last) was quite right in saying a "Reflective Journal" was a learning tool. Not just a personal option, but a part of the assessment criteria of DiTLLS. I was going to write this blog just for me - and anyone else who happened upon it - but as I have to keep a similar log of the course anyway, and there's soooo much to do, I'm not going to write it twice. So from now on, this is my official Trainee Teacher Reflective Journal. It might not be as frank now as it would otherwise have been... but then again, why not?
So, official reflection No 1:
Last Wednesday I sat in on (not sure if technically this was "observing" or "shadowing") a Literacy class taught by my subject specialist mentor, Laura. As I said before, Laura's a delightful woman - calm, warm, humorous and cogent; her classroom style reflected all of these traits and made me wonder if I could ever emulate them. Especially the calmness!
There were eight learners; two women 30+, one younger Portugese woman (unusual, as she would normally be in an ESOL - English for Speakers of Other Languages - class), three young men, one of whom could have been at school and two in perhaps their very late teens. Then there was an older woman in a wheelchair, brought in by a member of college staff, and Sue, a woman on crutches (a permanent disability) who came in late having burned her hand trying to pour a cup of tea and been bandaged by the nurse. An older man, (Teaching Assistant?) sat near the boys and... assisted.
The subject of the class was Nouns - Common and Proper. Laura explained to me that one of her other objectives was to check out the abilities of some of the learners as she has recently taken over this class and is not convinced that all members have attained the Level 1 skills that they are supposed to have. She started the class with a word grid on the whiteboard, from which everyone was asked to make up words of 4 or more letters, always including an S. While they were working on this, Laura took the register and would have put up the Learning Objectives for the class on the Powerpoint screen - but it failed to work. She called a technician, who came, but all he could do was order a new bulb!
Undeterred, Laura went back to the results of the word grid. Most had quite some difficulty with this and Laura negotiated her way through misspelt words, words which included letters other than those she had put up, and other issues. But clearly they all enjoyed and engaged with the exercise, and either learned or consolidated information. Laura continually asked gentle questions to ascertain that they had got it, and praised everyone for whatever she could. The ablest learner was one of the young men; the two disabled women possibly had the most difficulty grasping concepts.
Technology having failed, nouns were addressed on the whiteboard; what they were, how to identify them. Again, it took some time for most of the class to get to grips with this - but Laura found different ways to clarify and gave out handouts for one-to-one working - underline the nouns in sentences, basically. As Sue was having difficulty writing with her bandaged hand, I was tasked with helping her, which gave me a chance to understand what sort of ability she was working at. On the one hand, it seemed, she had neat writing and could spell reasonably well (especially words relating to football: David Beckham, Manchester United!); on the other her conceptual capacity was limited and she sometimes suggested adverbs or adjectives might be nouns. I think she gained some clarity from my explanations, and felt we struck up a bit of a rapport.
After this exercise, all the other learners went off to work on (differentiated, I assumed) tasks on the classroom PCs. They all seemed familiar with the technology and happy to use it. Laura asked me to keep working with Sue as she had to do a test which would normally involve listening to passages on a headset, but she thought it would work better if I read (and reread and reread) the necessary passages. It was interesting for me to find out what sort of Literacy was involved; I read short texts involving discussions (who said/thought what), descriptions (a car accident - put the events in order)), someone's work history (dates and time order - embedded numeracy!) and Sue had to answer multiple choice questions about the content. She got the first one right and when she was hesitant about the second one, I read it to her several more times (this was permitted!), but trying to emphasise what she needed to understand. I even started to give her a hint, but quickly realised that I was not supposed to be helping her learn, at this point. Her learning was being formally assessed and any help I gave would skew the results. I played it straight for the rest of the test; she got most of the answers wrong.
The class came together briefly at the end - Laura having been working with the others on their individual PC-based tasks while I'd been with Sue. Everyone seemed to have enjoyed it and feel they'd achieved something. They all wrote something at the end - possibly a summary of what they'd learned - and while doing so, Sue asked Laura what "that lady"'s name was (mine) - which felt like something of a compliment.
So what did I take away from my experience?
In terms of content, in a Literacy class of this level a little goes a long way (this applies to my Microteach, too - even with highly intelligent learners).
Patience is a virtue.
Always have a Plan B for technology
There's a difference between teaching and assessment. And perhaps my experience with Sue was an illustration between Formative (ongoing) Assessment and Summative (final) Assessment. Formative Assessment can include continued teaching, using feedback to understand what learners know and don't know, and filling gaps; Summative Assessment has to be a stand alone process that evaluates exactly what the learner does and doesn't know at this particular moment in time.
I liked Laura's teaching style, which was egalitarian, warm and sympathetic but with an underlying authority which I imagine would be quite unassailable in the face of disruptive behaviour. The wheelchair learner came the closest to being "difficult", and Laura dealt with her reasonably but firmly. It felt like it came from a depth of self-possession and a wealth of experience. Obviously I don't have the teaching experience, but can I draw on comparable resources? I guess my microteach is going to reveal some of the answer.
27 September 2009
23 September 2009
No Placement in Place
An email to my course tutors and Director of the School of Lifelong Learning
Hi Mike, Scott and Pearl,
I had my first meeting with my subject mentor, Laura, yesterday; and sat in on one of her Literacy classes today, which was an interesting and very useful experience. The discussion I had with Laura, though, raised two issues which are worrying me somewhat.
1. My teaching placement.
I had assumed, when I was told I had "a place on the FT DTLLS programme with a placement in Literacy in the School of Lifelong Learning", that a set of classes enabling me to cover my required 150 hours of teaching had been earmarked, and that my mentor would be aware of this and able to tell me what my teaching timetable would be and who I needed to contact.
It seems that this isn't the case; that there is no "placement" in place and that it may be my responsiblity to sort this out. This feels like a rather precarious situation to find myself in and a stressor I could do without while getting to grips with the intensive learning and demanding course work of the first few weeks of DiTTLS.
2. Literacy Core Curriculum Training
As the relevant people were aware, I have a degree in English and Drama but no previous experience in teaching Literacy. Laura suggested that in order to do so, I might need to do a two-day course in Literacy Core Curriculum Training - which I would have to source myself, as there isn't one at our college, and would have to be paid for. However, Laura did also wonder whether the Functional Skills/Minimum Core element of DiTLLS would give me enough Literacy background to cover this. I can't see when I can fit two days of an external course in before Christmas and certainly can't afford to fund another set of fees. How have previous Literacy placements worked?
Does anyone else have any thoughts about this?
All the best
Literata
Hi Mike, Scott and Pearl,
I had my first meeting with my subject mentor, Laura, yesterday; and sat in on one of her Literacy classes today, which was an interesting and very useful experience. The discussion I had with Laura, though, raised two issues which are worrying me somewhat.
1. My teaching placement.
I had assumed, when I was told I had "a place on the FT DTLLS programme with a placement in Literacy in the School of Lifelong Learning", that a set of classes enabling me to cover my required 150 hours of teaching had been earmarked, and that my mentor would be aware of this and able to tell me what my teaching timetable would be and who I needed to contact.
It seems that this isn't the case; that there is no "placement" in place and that it may be my responsiblity to sort this out. This feels like a rather precarious situation to find myself in and a stressor I could do without while getting to grips with the intensive learning and demanding course work of the first few weeks of DiTTLS.
2. Literacy Core Curriculum Training
As the relevant people were aware, I have a degree in English and Drama but no previous experience in teaching Literacy. Laura suggested that in order to do so, I might need to do a two-day course in Literacy Core Curriculum Training - which I would have to source myself, as there isn't one at our college, and would have to be paid for. However, Laura did also wonder whether the Functional Skills/Minimum Core element of DiTLLS would give me enough Literacy background to cover this. I can't see when I can fit two days of an external course in before Christmas and certainly can't afford to fund another set of fees. How have previous Literacy placements worked?
Does anyone else have any thoughts about this?
All the best
Literata
22 September 2009
Week Two: Stressing
It's Tuesday of Week 2 and I'm feeling exhausted again. I should be writing one of the short essays that make up Task 3 (of Module 1). I could pick "Current Legislative Requirements (only 150 - 200 words), but we're having a tutorial on that tomorrow and, I think "Embedding Functional Skills" (300 - 400 words). We got all the info on "Evaluation of Assessment Methods" today, but I can't face 300 - 400 words on that tonight; or, indeed, "Methods of Feedback" - which is only 200 - 300 words. But there is a short (150 - 250 words) one on "Record Keeping" which doesn't seem too demanding.... I'll see how I feel when I finish this entry in my Reflective Journal.
One of the reasons I feel tired is the pressure of the Microteach coming up a week on Friday. It's both exciting me and stressing me out. I keep having ideas - and they wake me up at 5am, buzzing round my head, but not usefully or coherently. I'd decided to do something that will help everyone with essay writing, so punctuation and grammar orientated, and spent yesterday evening creating a little survey to see which areas might be most popular. But then in the car coming into college I heard this man on Radio 4 talking about the need for debating in state schools and thought - A Debate! Structure the Microteach as a mini debate, which would involve reading, writing, speaking and listening, assessing and responding....
But I gave out the survey anyway, and all the girls seem to be really excited about me teaching them basic punctuation stuff. Even Jay, the English specialist and novelist, asked for an explanation of when to use "past" and "passed". He knows all the terms - "homophones" in this case - but not, apparently, every last thing about them. So, ok, it's going to be punctuation. Lesson plans, learning outcomes, resources, a video, powerpoint - feels like it's going to take weeks to prepare! And some people (the girls!) seem to have frighteningly high expectations of me.
The other stress/exhaustion factor is that I met my Subject Specialist Mentor today, Laura. She' a very nice and interesting woman, about ten years younger than me, and we had a good discussion. But she thinks I need to do a two-day course on Literacy Core Curriculum Training - which I would have to source myself as they don't do it within the college, and possibly even pay for - though my "provider" (the college) should do. So that's a worry, especially as I can't see many free two day slots before Christmas. The other worry is that Laura doesn't see it as her job to sort out my teaching placement. She only teaches three literacy courses a week for college (one of which is off-campus anyway) - and even if I were to take over all three of them for the next two terms, which she's hardly going to want, it would only just be enough to make up my required 150 hours. So I have to find some other courses taught by someone else to work with. She's given me another name, but I'll have to talk about it in my Professional Practice tutorial tomorrow.
I'm sure it will get sorted out, but it feels like a mess and that the responsibility is on my shoulders. And just as I'd got to grips with the weekly timetable and workload, there's a new and unforseen extra load. It's probably the least impressive part of the organisation of the DiTLLS course. None of our mentors seem to know what they're supposed to be doing and the placements are completely unco-ordinated. I suppose I'm ahead of the game in that I've got and met a mentor - which is more than Sarah has. But still, the uncertainty of it is unhelpful when there's so much else going on simply in terms of course content and assignments.
It's now 9.45pm. I don't think I can bear to start on Record Keeping now, so I might just cut my losses and go to bed.
Over and out....
One of the reasons I feel tired is the pressure of the Microteach coming up a week on Friday. It's both exciting me and stressing me out. I keep having ideas - and they wake me up at 5am, buzzing round my head, but not usefully or coherently. I'd decided to do something that will help everyone with essay writing, so punctuation and grammar orientated, and spent yesterday evening creating a little survey to see which areas might be most popular. But then in the car coming into college I heard this man on Radio 4 talking about the need for debating in state schools and thought - A Debate! Structure the Microteach as a mini debate, which would involve reading, writing, speaking and listening, assessing and responding....
But I gave out the survey anyway, and all the girls seem to be really excited about me teaching them basic punctuation stuff. Even Jay, the English specialist and novelist, asked for an explanation of when to use "past" and "passed". He knows all the terms - "homophones" in this case - but not, apparently, every last thing about them. So, ok, it's going to be punctuation. Lesson plans, learning outcomes, resources, a video, powerpoint - feels like it's going to take weeks to prepare! And some people (the girls!) seem to have frighteningly high expectations of me.
The other stress/exhaustion factor is that I met my Subject Specialist Mentor today, Laura. She' a very nice and interesting woman, about ten years younger than me, and we had a good discussion. But she thinks I need to do a two-day course on Literacy Core Curriculum Training - which I would have to source myself as they don't do it within the college, and possibly even pay for - though my "provider" (the college) should do. So that's a worry, especially as I can't see many free two day slots before Christmas. The other worry is that Laura doesn't see it as her job to sort out my teaching placement. She only teaches three literacy courses a week for college (one of which is off-campus anyway) - and even if I were to take over all three of them for the next two terms, which she's hardly going to want, it would only just be enough to make up my required 150 hours. So I have to find some other courses taught by someone else to work with. She's given me another name, but I'll have to talk about it in my Professional Practice tutorial tomorrow.
I'm sure it will get sorted out, but it feels like a mess and that the responsibility is on my shoulders. And just as I'd got to grips with the weekly timetable and workload, there's a new and unforseen extra load. It's probably the least impressive part of the organisation of the DiTLLS course. None of our mentors seem to know what they're supposed to be doing and the placements are completely unco-ordinated. I suppose I'm ahead of the game in that I've got and met a mentor - which is more than Sarah has. But still, the uncertainty of it is unhelpful when there's so much else going on simply in terms of course content and assignments.
It's now 9.45pm. I don't think I can bear to start on Record Keeping now, so I might just cut my losses and go to bed.
Over and out....
20 September 2009
Letter From A Friend
I thought this email from a friend in the middle of a qualification for secondary school teaching was just so insightful that I'd post it.
Dear Literata,
I checked out the blog. A 'reflective journal' is an educational tool (me too with the jargon!) Actually I liked being a student until it came to voicing criticism. My faculty pays lips service to being student-centred, Vygotsky-influenced and so on, but plays hardball with things. My disappointment has been that however nice and encouraging individuals are, the system itself is still punitive, competitive and based on fear: do it this way or you fail. If your citations aren't in order, you fail. Talk back, question authority, dare to be different etc. Truly!
Despite education being an extremely creative field and really being stretched by new technologies and new research into the psychology of motivation and engagament, universities are too often rushed, rigid and unimaginative. I am fascinated by education but sometimes struggle with my own learning: it is so personal and so mixed up with fragile self-regard! It is impossible to be all the things they want you to be: a researcher, a facilitator, a sociologist, a one-man band, a 'good' teacher, a disciplinarian, a leader amongst men etc.
Been teaching at high school and I don't think you would have any trouble with classroom management. The kids are fine (and what parent really minds a bit of chaos?) I try to be relentlessly positive (my core belief is that people can't learn when they are unhappy), so I praise them for every baby step and tell them 'yes you can' like Mr President. Bit by bit I feel they will take another step and another, if you believe in them they will try to become the person you see in them. Sometimes I feel like I am feeding ducks in a pond, casting tasty morsels before them, getting their trust, trying to get the ones hanging at the back to take a scrap. Or like painting a wall, adding a touch here and there, then coming back fro a second coat, then a third. So much of what they are 'supposed to know' is crap — really tedious. As if art or life follows a template: sometimes it feels like teachers take the amazing world and reduce it to a flow-chart or a set of boxes to be ticked.
I think what I like about teaching is what appeals to my heart, not my head. I like the social and emotional challenges, and getting to know these little (and not so little) people. We were discussing heroes in Year 8 and a girl from Nicaragua gave a totally unexpected speech about her hero: "My hero has known me before I was born, will always love me, is the person I want to be." Quite amazing (God, of course). Then a boy at the front asked me "Who was she talking about?". Who do you think, I asked back. "Tony Blair?" he said innocently, so perfectly uncomprehending.
My Year 9, fourteen-years old and on the verge of adolescent disaffection, were sleepy on Monday morning. So I searched in my pockets for some Magic Fairy Dust to help them — 'Found it, Year Nine!' — and proceeded to sprinkle it over them, much to their surprise. The look on their faces still makes me laugh.
My Year 10 class are a defeated bunch, they are not the brightest, but I taught them Animal Farm and kept at it, trying to relate it to their lives. But the task they had to do at the end was so abstract: a formal 'English' essay. Why can't they talk about it, draw it, why do these kids have to conquer an academic essay? Sometimes the education system really does seem stupid. We just want them to think and feel and appreciate and grow, don't we? And archaic forms of assessment just convince them that they are failures, which is exctly the opposite of what we are there for, or at least I think we are there for.
So anyway I am excited but wary, and I hope that with your high expectations of yourself and the course, and your conscientious approach, you don't get overwhelmed. You could do the job now, without all the claptrap, so don't let the need to put in a perfect essay distract you from being confident that you are you, and you are already a great person with or without a distinction stamped on your forehead.
Love S. And I hope to keep this conversation going.
Dear Literata,
I checked out the blog. A 'reflective journal' is an educational tool (me too with the jargon!) Actually I liked being a student until it came to voicing criticism. My faculty pays lips service to being student-centred, Vygotsky-influenced and so on, but plays hardball with things. My disappointment has been that however nice and encouraging individuals are, the system itself is still punitive, competitive and based on fear: do it this way or you fail. If your citations aren't in order, you fail. Talk back, question authority, dare to be different etc. Truly!
Despite education being an extremely creative field and really being stretched by new technologies and new research into the psychology of motivation and engagament, universities are too often rushed, rigid and unimaginative. I am fascinated by education but sometimes struggle with my own learning: it is so personal and so mixed up with fragile self-regard! It is impossible to be all the things they want you to be: a researcher, a facilitator, a sociologist, a one-man band, a 'good' teacher, a disciplinarian, a leader amongst men etc.
Been teaching at high school and I don't think you would have any trouble with classroom management. The kids are fine (and what parent really minds a bit of chaos?) I try to be relentlessly positive (my core belief is that people can't learn when they are unhappy), so I praise them for every baby step and tell them 'yes you can' like Mr President. Bit by bit I feel they will take another step and another, if you believe in them they will try to become the person you see in them. Sometimes I feel like I am feeding ducks in a pond, casting tasty morsels before them, getting their trust, trying to get the ones hanging at the back to take a scrap. Or like painting a wall, adding a touch here and there, then coming back fro a second coat, then a third. So much of what they are 'supposed to know' is crap — really tedious. As if art or life follows a template: sometimes it feels like teachers take the amazing world and reduce it to a flow-chart or a set of boxes to be ticked.
I think what I like about teaching is what appeals to my heart, not my head. I like the social and emotional challenges, and getting to know these little (and not so little) people. We were discussing heroes in Year 8 and a girl from Nicaragua gave a totally unexpected speech about her hero: "My hero has known me before I was born, will always love me, is the person I want to be." Quite amazing (God, of course). Then a boy at the front asked me "Who was she talking about?". Who do you think, I asked back. "Tony Blair?" he said innocently, so perfectly uncomprehending.
My Year 9, fourteen-years old and on the verge of adolescent disaffection, were sleepy on Monday morning. So I searched in my pockets for some Magic Fairy Dust to help them — 'Found it, Year Nine!' — and proceeded to sprinkle it over them, much to their surprise. The look on their faces still makes me laugh.
My Year 10 class are a defeated bunch, they are not the brightest, but I taught them Animal Farm and kept at it, trying to relate it to their lives. But the task they had to do at the end was so abstract: a formal 'English' essay. Why can't they talk about it, draw it, why do these kids have to conquer an academic essay? Sometimes the education system really does seem stupid. We just want them to think and feel and appreciate and grow, don't we? And archaic forms of assessment just convince them that they are failures, which is exctly the opposite of what we are there for, or at least I think we are there for.
So anyway I am excited but wary, and I hope that with your high expectations of yourself and the course, and your conscientious approach, you don't get overwhelmed. You could do the job now, without all the claptrap, so don't let the need to put in a perfect essay distract you from being confident that you are you, and you are already a great person with or without a distinction stamped on your forehead.
Love S. And I hope to keep this conversation going.
18 September 2009
One Week Down
Well, what a week!
I went back into College on Monday after a dreadful night due to something of a crisis at home, so very tired and not particularly looking forward to the course, and found at some point late morning that I was... really enjoying myself. The worst thing, truly, has been finding a space in the student carpark in the morning, and after getting a Warning sticker on my car on Wednesday, took the Park and Ride bus from nearby today and even that problem is now solved.
The nine of us on the course have now really gelled, the other five being Dan, a laid back musician / backstage media man in his thirties, just done a degree and has a part-time teaching job at the college which counts as his placement; Sarah, a quietly intelligent psychology grad - early 40s, I think, who's been working as a legal secretary; Asif, an experienced teacher of ESOL (English for Speakers of Other Languages) from Turkey and in his late 20s; Kelly, a 24-year old working hairdresser who wants to teach her subject and struggles from being ineligible for a bursary as hairdressing is not a "needed" subject, and also severe dyslexia; and Bethany, a cool graphic designer also in her mid-twenties.
For four days this week we've all been holed up together for most of the day in a single classroom, taught mainly by Mike, who everyone likes but some people (those less used to academia) find a little confusing at times, for Module 1 "Preparing to Teach in the Lifelong Learning Sector"; and also by Scott, who is taking us for Module 5, "Subject Specific Professional Practice".
Alongside the intensive input of information, we've all pretty much got the measure of each other, and some alliances and the odd antipathy have developed. I've bonded most with Nat; Kelly and Beth are a pair and the rest float around singly as we work in shifting small groups in class and chat in the student cafeteria. The less academic find Jay's extreme extroversion and need to succeed somewhat intimidating, though to be fair he is also very keen to assist and "mentor" others in any skill or knowledge he possesses.
So, this week we've covered the Roles and Responsibilities of a teacher, diversity, inclusivity and learners' needs and learning styles, the legislation and professional bodies that form the current framework of teaching in the Post Compulsory Education sector, setting groundrules and embedding functional skills (literacy, numeracy and ICT) within our subject classes. Among probably other things I've forgotten at this moment.
I'm enjoying the format of teaching - which is of course modeling the lessons we will be planning for our learners (not students or pupils!). There's a certain amount of teacher-centred information-giving (note how I'm assimilating the jargon!), interspersed with small amounts of independent working and longer times for group work which will usually include one member presenting the results of our discussions. We get video clips (YouTube - great source) and Powerpoints, lots of handouts - and I've remembered my facility for taking extensive notes which help me memorise and then regurgitate info in assignments.
I spent our day off this week clearing my desk at home and then writing our first assignment - devising an Icebreaker exercise for "my" class of Literacy students which would also enable the setting of class ground rules. I designed an exercise called "We Love School (not?)" based on the fact that most adult literacy learners will come to college after a poor school experience. So to get to know each other I ask them to create their own class register (asking each other their names) and then take a brief survey of each classmate on whether they Liked or Disliked learning at school in terms of The Teachers, The Work, The Classroom and The Rules. This would lead to discussion of what they didn't like then, would like now and what ground rules will underpin their learning and my teaching. I wrote my "Analysis" of same and emailed a first draft to Mike. Within half an hour he'd responded - very positively, but with some insightful and focused suggestions for improvement. He also said it was definitely distinction level work - so, I'm thrilled to bits.
Note to self (and also to others who have been asking): the game in homework is to reference or quote authoritative sources to back up every single assertion you make. Harvard referencing is simple enough - as a neat handout from the "Information Centre" (college library) makes clear.
So - a surprisingly satisfactory week, leaving me tired but energised and as determined as Jay (but quietly so) to do really well on the DiTLLS course.
I went back into College on Monday after a dreadful night due to something of a crisis at home, so very tired and not particularly looking forward to the course, and found at some point late morning that I was... really enjoying myself. The worst thing, truly, has been finding a space in the student carpark in the morning, and after getting a Warning sticker on my car on Wednesday, took the Park and Ride bus from nearby today and even that problem is now solved.
The nine of us on the course have now really gelled, the other five being Dan, a laid back musician / backstage media man in his thirties, just done a degree and has a part-time teaching job at the college which counts as his placement; Sarah, a quietly intelligent psychology grad - early 40s, I think, who's been working as a legal secretary; Asif, an experienced teacher of ESOL (English for Speakers of Other Languages) from Turkey and in his late 20s; Kelly, a 24-year old working hairdresser who wants to teach her subject and struggles from being ineligible for a bursary as hairdressing is not a "needed" subject, and also severe dyslexia; and Bethany, a cool graphic designer also in her mid-twenties.
For four days this week we've all been holed up together for most of the day in a single classroom, taught mainly by Mike, who everyone likes but some people (those less used to academia) find a little confusing at times, for Module 1 "Preparing to Teach in the Lifelong Learning Sector"; and also by Scott, who is taking us for Module 5, "Subject Specific Professional Practice".
Alongside the intensive input of information, we've all pretty much got the measure of each other, and some alliances and the odd antipathy have developed. I've bonded most with Nat; Kelly and Beth are a pair and the rest float around singly as we work in shifting small groups in class and chat in the student cafeteria. The less academic find Jay's extreme extroversion and need to succeed somewhat intimidating, though to be fair he is also very keen to assist and "mentor" others in any skill or knowledge he possesses.
So, this week we've covered the Roles and Responsibilities of a teacher, diversity, inclusivity and learners' needs and learning styles, the legislation and professional bodies that form the current framework of teaching in the Post Compulsory Education sector, setting groundrules and embedding functional skills (literacy, numeracy and ICT) within our subject classes. Among probably other things I've forgotten at this moment.
I'm enjoying the format of teaching - which is of course modeling the lessons we will be planning for our learners (not students or pupils!). There's a certain amount of teacher-centred information-giving (note how I'm assimilating the jargon!), interspersed with small amounts of independent working and longer times for group work which will usually include one member presenting the results of our discussions. We get video clips (YouTube - great source) and Powerpoints, lots of handouts - and I've remembered my facility for taking extensive notes which help me memorise and then regurgitate info in assignments.
I spent our day off this week clearing my desk at home and then writing our first assignment - devising an Icebreaker exercise for "my" class of Literacy students which would also enable the setting of class ground rules. I designed an exercise called "We Love School (not?)" based on the fact that most adult literacy learners will come to college after a poor school experience. So to get to know each other I ask them to create their own class register (asking each other their names) and then take a brief survey of each classmate on whether they Liked or Disliked learning at school in terms of The Teachers, The Work, The Classroom and The Rules. This would lead to discussion of what they didn't like then, would like now and what ground rules will underpin their learning and my teaching. I wrote my "Analysis" of same and emailed a first draft to Mike. Within half an hour he'd responded - very positively, but with some insightful and focused suggestions for improvement. He also said it was definitely distinction level work - so, I'm thrilled to bits.
Note to self (and also to others who have been asking): the game in homework is to reference or quote authoritative sources to back up every single assertion you make. Harvard referencing is simple enough - as a neat handout from the "Information Centre" (college library) makes clear.
So - a surprisingly satisfactory week, leaving me tired but energised and as determined as Jay (but quietly so) to do really well on the DiTLLS course.
13 September 2009
Back To The Classroom
Enrollment was fine. The usual start of term university chaos, which didn't seem so different than last time I was there. Except it really was quite organised chaos and technology meant that forms were filled in with an Advisor online, photo taken on webcam and a student card produced on the spot. No more running off to queue for the nearest passport photo booth!
The queues turned out to be a good place to meet most of the others on the DiTLLS course. A strange and diverse group of people, most of whom trouped off to the pub together after enrollment to start a team bonding process of sorts.
Hugh was probably the youngest, fresh out of his Psychology degree at the College, sweet and serious but an instant team leader as he knew his way round and the answer to most of our questions. He was a little shocked to find he was younger than both of my sons.
Then there was Jason. Big Jay, as he likes to be called, is big in every sense. Tall and 24+ stone in weight, as he boasted, he came across as confident, loud, in yer face and full of himself. In fact he's another writer with a couple of novels self-published and, having been made redundant from a high powered sales job in February, is now planning to become the best teacher ever in this new career. Almost certainly his super confident exterior hides a multiplicity of insecurities. Throughout the day I went through phases of liking/hating/liking/hating him, but ended up thinking he was intelligent, interesting and no doubt a catalyst for much discussion on the course.
Natalie was a stunning lovely, tall slim woman in her late thirties. An clothes designer with a three year old son and the irrational low self esteem of a first time mother returning to work, she and I took to each other immediately. In fact we became a strange little foursome, containing the youngest (Hugh), oldest (me), most attractive (Nat) and most ebullient (Jay) members of the course. More about the other four (and possibly more to appear on Monday) later.
Mike, our Course Leader facilitated our induction session in the afternoon. It was fine, reasonably enjoyable and showed us all how much work this "intensive" course is going to be. Within the first six weeks we have to do a "microteach" (here comes the jargon!) - in other words, a short lesson - for our course colleagues, on our chosen subject. Nat, who presents with confidence and clarity found this a terrifying proposition, but is probably even worried more about being able to cope with the academic side.
Our first assignment was to post something about our fears, expectations and aspirations on the college website. When I'd mastered the technical issues, such as having been given the wrong user name, this is what I posted:
CLASSROOM CHALLENGES
I was happy to meet everyone on Friday and find I'd be working with an interesting and diverse group of people. I came away from the Induction session slightly shell-shocked - not because I didn't enjoy it or it wasn't a good sessions, but perhaps something to do with....
FEAR: I've worked for myself and in my own space for a long time, and I've developed an effective (for me) learning/working style which involves taking processing breaks whenever I need them by doing mundane things like washing up or paying bills. I work in short bursts on elusive ideas, or without taking breaks when I'm really nailing something I want to say. I often stop and watch Neighbours at lunchtime (so does Philip Pullman!). I'm wondering how well I'll adapt to the classroom learning scenario with its more formal structure, ground rules and -- other people!
EXPECTATION: Despite that, or perhaps because of it, I'm looking forward to being thoroughly challenged this year; in taking on new ideas, new ways of working and reflecting on what I currently do and how I do it. Though I might initially react against some of the challenges.
ASPIRATION: I'm not big on predicting my own success - quite the opposite in fact - in case I fail. But if I'm honest, I really would like to meet my own and other people's expectations that I have it in me to be an inspirational sort of teacher, and also to do well on the course itself. I'd like to think that might start with the microteach which, at this distance, I find more exciting than frightening. This may change as it gets closer!
Actually, I'm most worried about getting a place in the student carpark tomorrow morning.
The queues turned out to be a good place to meet most of the others on the DiTLLS course. A strange and diverse group of people, most of whom trouped off to the pub together after enrollment to start a team bonding process of sorts.
Hugh was probably the youngest, fresh out of his Psychology degree at the College, sweet and serious but an instant team leader as he knew his way round and the answer to most of our questions. He was a little shocked to find he was younger than both of my sons.
Then there was Jason. Big Jay, as he likes to be called, is big in every sense. Tall and 24+ stone in weight, as he boasted, he came across as confident, loud, in yer face and full of himself. In fact he's another writer with a couple of novels self-published and, having been made redundant from a high powered sales job in February, is now planning to become the best teacher ever in this new career. Almost certainly his super confident exterior hides a multiplicity of insecurities. Throughout the day I went through phases of liking/hating/liking/hating him, but ended up thinking he was intelligent, interesting and no doubt a catalyst for much discussion on the course.
Natalie was a stunning lovely, tall slim woman in her late thirties. An clothes designer with a three year old son and the irrational low self esteem of a first time mother returning to work, she and I took to each other immediately. In fact we became a strange little foursome, containing the youngest (Hugh), oldest (me), most attractive (Nat) and most ebullient (Jay) members of the course. More about the other four (and possibly more to appear on Monday) later.
Mike, our Course Leader facilitated our induction session in the afternoon. It was fine, reasonably enjoyable and showed us all how much work this "intensive" course is going to be. Within the first six weeks we have to do a "microteach" (here comes the jargon!) - in other words, a short lesson - for our course colleagues, on our chosen subject. Nat, who presents with confidence and clarity found this a terrifying proposition, but is probably even worried more about being able to cope with the academic side.
Our first assignment was to post something about our fears, expectations and aspirations on the college website. When I'd mastered the technical issues, such as having been given the wrong user name, this is what I posted:
CLASSROOM CHALLENGES
I was happy to meet everyone on Friday and find I'd be working with an interesting and diverse group of people. I came away from the Induction session slightly shell-shocked - not because I didn't enjoy it or it wasn't a good sessions, but perhaps something to do with....
FEAR: I've worked for myself and in my own space for a long time, and I've developed an effective (for me) learning/working style which involves taking processing breaks whenever I need them by doing mundane things like washing up or paying bills. I work in short bursts on elusive ideas, or without taking breaks when I'm really nailing something I want to say. I often stop and watch Neighbours at lunchtime (so does Philip Pullman!). I'm wondering how well I'll adapt to the classroom learning scenario with its more formal structure, ground rules and -- other people!
EXPECTATION: Despite that, or perhaps because of it, I'm looking forward to being thoroughly challenged this year; in taking on new ideas, new ways of working and reflecting on what I currently do and how I do it. Though I might initially react against some of the challenges.
ASPIRATION: I'm not big on predicting my own success - quite the opposite in fact - in case I fail. But if I'm honest, I really would like to meet my own and other people's expectations that I have it in me to be an inspirational sort of teacher, and also to do well on the course itself. I'd like to think that might start with the microteach which, at this distance, I find more exciting than frightening. This may change as it gets closer!
Actually, I'm most worried about getting a place in the student carpark tomorrow morning.
10 September 2009
Last Day of Freedom
Tomorrow is Enrollment and Induction Day.
I haven't received my official letter from Admissions, along with the CRB Check form I should have filled in. I can't teach adults on my placement without being cleared by the Criminal Records Bureau, and each organisation has to do their own check. It doesn't matter that I was checked recently for a friend who is going to be a foster carer, and had a clean record. I suppose I could have committed any number of horrendous crimes since then.
I'm feeling quite apprehensive.
It's... almost exactly 30 years since I left university - with a degree in English and Drama - and now I'm going back to being a full-time student. It's a one year, post-graduate Diploma, but I still expect to be far and away the oldest person on the course. Which is fine. It's just going to be a shock to the system.
For the last four years I've worked from home and worked at being a writer. I've had three novels published and a couple of self-help books as well as business and research publications. There are a couple of proposals for more in with publishers, but since my partner was made redundant a few months ago and hasn't yet found another job, I can't really sit at home hoping to write a best-seller. The initial lure of the DiTLLS course was that it offered a £6,000 bursary, and - in our present financial condition - the likelihood of qualifying for as much again in student grants and loans.
I've just finished applying for everything I can get.
Now it's payback time.
Well, not literally. I won't have to pay back any loans until I'm employed and earning money. What I mean is, I now have to go and do the work. I have to be in college from 9.30am to 4.30pm four days a week, with Thursday devoted to preparing for my "placement". My placement will be 150 hours of teaching Adult Literacy courses, mainly in the summer term. That seems quite far away at the moment, so I'm not worrying about that yet. I'm worrying about my two children, aged 10 and 7, who I'm not going to be able to collect from school any more (except hopefully on Thursdays). At the moment their dad's around and can pick them up, but it's still not the same. And if he does get a job - which of course is emminently desirable - then I'll have to organise childcare.
Anyway, tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life. My life as a teacher? I never wanted to be a teacher, though adults have got to be less stressful to teach than children. I'm just struggling with the idea that I must be a failure as a writer to be doing this. But maybe, just maybe, working with the building blocks of language and helping people to change their lives through better literacy, might just be... really cool.
I haven't received my official letter from Admissions, along with the CRB Check form I should have filled in. I can't teach adults on my placement without being cleared by the Criminal Records Bureau, and each organisation has to do their own check. It doesn't matter that I was checked recently for a friend who is going to be a foster carer, and had a clean record. I suppose I could have committed any number of horrendous crimes since then.
I'm feeling quite apprehensive.
It's... almost exactly 30 years since I left university - with a degree in English and Drama - and now I'm going back to being a full-time student. It's a one year, post-graduate Diploma, but I still expect to be far and away the oldest person on the course. Which is fine. It's just going to be a shock to the system.
For the last four years I've worked from home and worked at being a writer. I've had three novels published and a couple of self-help books as well as business and research publications. There are a couple of proposals for more in with publishers, but since my partner was made redundant a few months ago and hasn't yet found another job, I can't really sit at home hoping to write a best-seller. The initial lure of the DiTLLS course was that it offered a £6,000 bursary, and - in our present financial condition - the likelihood of qualifying for as much again in student grants and loans.
I've just finished applying for everything I can get.
Now it's payback time.
Well, not literally. I won't have to pay back any loans until I'm employed and earning money. What I mean is, I now have to go and do the work. I have to be in college from 9.30am to 4.30pm four days a week, with Thursday devoted to preparing for my "placement". My placement will be 150 hours of teaching Adult Literacy courses, mainly in the summer term. That seems quite far away at the moment, so I'm not worrying about that yet. I'm worrying about my two children, aged 10 and 7, who I'm not going to be able to collect from school any more (except hopefully on Thursdays). At the moment their dad's around and can pick them up, but it's still not the same. And if he does get a job - which of course is emminently desirable - then I'll have to organise childcare.
Anyway, tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life. My life as a teacher? I never wanted to be a teacher, though adults have got to be less stressful to teach than children. I'm just struggling with the idea that I must be a failure as a writer to be doing this. But maybe, just maybe, working with the building blocks of language and helping people to change their lives through better literacy, might just be... really cool.
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