This week's verbal highlights while taking a boisterous schedule of Years 3, 4, 5, 7, 9 10 and 12.
Me: (Counting down) "One...one half...one quarter...one eighth...one sixteenth...one-thirty-twoth."
Me: "I'm more of an Angry Birds kind of girl."
Student: "If Mr X isn't here and you need to go, will you leave us all alone?"("us" = a class of 25 active Year Sevens)
Me: "No."
Student: "Why not?"
Me: "Because you might get lonely."
Me: "I haven't done any biology since 1991...were you alive in 1991?"
Me: "Here - let me babysit your phone for you. I'm sure it won't get up to mischief and play games while I look after it."
Me: "Have you ever been to New York? Would you like to go to New York?"
Me to meowing students: "You sound like you should be in Drama rather than English."
Student: "Can we do drama?"
Me: "No."
Me: "I am going to go to sleep tonight to the sound of myself saying 'ssssshhhhhhh'."
Me: "Enough of the belly thing."
Me: "I'm sure your maths brain is more active than mine."
Me: "I might need to add your cards to my card collection."
Student: "Do you have a card collection?"
Me: "No, but I've love to start one with your cards right there."
Me: "Chicken Souvlaki? I want souvlaki!"
Me: "Today I am living my dream - I am angel with long blonde hair."
Friday, May 31, 2013
Thursday, May 30, 2013
These Secondary Boys Have a Good Point
Today I heard a consistent answer to the request of: "Please do your work."
Although I must admit that I didn't literally ask many students to "do your work" as it is rarely immediately effective by itself.
Instead I pointed out to one Year 9 boy that he would most likely prefer to look at pictures of Mustangs on the internet at home and do his assignment in class, than look at cars in class and have to end up doing his assignment as homework. (ie: Do your assignment).
And I pointed out to a Year 12 boy that he didn't need the laptop for his practice assessment task, and he should finish the task first and then use the laptop for his research. (ie: Do your practice assessment task).
And I pointed out to some Year 7 boys (is it always boys?) that they should probably have their workbooks open if they were to write some answers out for the revision questions. (ie: Do your revision questions).
And I am sure there are other things I said along a similar vein...but in each of these cases the boys all replied with the same response: "Good point".
And then they changed their behaviour to begin the set tasks.
I thought nothing of the phrase until I realised how many times I was hearing it, and how consistently it was being followed by the desired response.
"Good point, Miss. Good point."
A simple phrase, but one that allowed the student to switch from less desirable behaviour to what they should be doing without having to argue, be embarrassed, or feel negative or discouraged from having been redirected.
The phrase is so simple, and it was delivered so simply each time, that it allowed something that could have become an issue or a battle of wills to become gracefully - and simply - resolved.
And I now wonder how many times I am told something and, in spite of its sense, I feel like arguing the point or defending myself...when all I need to do is simply say: "Good point" and move on.
(And I wonder why that student who decided to engage in an argument over a simple instruction rather than just do as I asked couldn't have simply said: "Good point" and moved on).
And I also wonder what I will learn the next time I go to school - even though they call me the teacher.
Although I must admit that I didn't literally ask many students to "do your work" as it is rarely immediately effective by itself.
Instead I pointed out to one Year 9 boy that he would most likely prefer to look at pictures of Mustangs on the internet at home and do his assignment in class, than look at cars in class and have to end up doing his assignment as homework. (ie: Do your assignment).
And I pointed out to a Year 12 boy that he didn't need the laptop for his practice assessment task, and he should finish the task first and then use the laptop for his research. (ie: Do your practice assessment task).
And I pointed out to some Year 7 boys (is it always boys?) that they should probably have their workbooks open if they were to write some answers out for the revision questions. (ie: Do your revision questions).
And I am sure there are other things I said along a similar vein...but in each of these cases the boys all replied with the same response: "Good point".
And then they changed their behaviour to begin the set tasks.
I thought nothing of the phrase until I realised how many times I was hearing it, and how consistently it was being followed by the desired response.
"Good point, Miss. Good point."
A simple phrase, but one that allowed the student to switch from less desirable behaviour to what they should be doing without having to argue, be embarrassed, or feel negative or discouraged from having been redirected.
The phrase is so simple, and it was delivered so simply each time, that it allowed something that could have become an issue or a battle of wills to become gracefully - and simply - resolved.
And I now wonder how many times I am told something and, in spite of its sense, I feel like arguing the point or defending myself...when all I need to do is simply say: "Good point" and move on.
(And I wonder why that student who decided to engage in an argument over a simple instruction rather than just do as I asked couldn't have simply said: "Good point" and moved on).
And I also wonder what I will learn the next time I go to school - even though they call me the teacher.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Faux Bonus Time
As an emergency teacher I have to be prepared to drop everything and go to work at very short notice.
Like last Tuesday when the phone rang at 7:50am for an 8:20am start.
Luckily I had an outfit chosen already. A shame about lunch though, as a peanut butter sandwich was all I could throw together at the last minute and then I became too paranoid to bring it out to eat at our NON nut-free school lest I inadvertently give someone an anaphylactic fit.
So when it gets to 8am and the phone hasn't rung and it dawns on me that I do not have to go to work, it feels like I have a bonus day off. And my mind starts imagining all the amazing things that I can do.
Like today, where I'm going to use my faux bonus (child-free) time to make a few more outfits for work. I've worked two days this term and already exhausted my working winter wardrobe.
Like last Tuesday when the phone rang at 7:50am for an 8:20am start.
Luckily I had an outfit chosen already. A shame about lunch though, as a peanut butter sandwich was all I could throw together at the last minute and then I became too paranoid to bring it out to eat at our NON nut-free school lest I inadvertently give someone an anaphylactic fit.
So when it gets to 8am and the phone hasn't rung and it dawns on me that I do not have to go to work, it feels like I have a bonus day off. And my mind starts imagining all the amazing things that I can do.
Like today, where I'm going to use my faux bonus (child-free) time to make a few more outfits for work. I've worked two days this term and already exhausted my working winter wardrobe.
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Sideways Glances
It's been long enough since I taught my last junior primary classes that the children are now giving me sideways glances as we pass in the playground. I'm wearing casual clothes, holding hands with a five year old (who is taller than many of them) and laughing as I sing some silly ditty. I don't look like a teacher anymore.
So they look furtively at me as if to say: "Is she the one? Was it her?"
But that's okay.
Because as I weave through the secondary students waiting for the bus I am giving them sideways glances. They are wearing blazers and ties, holding hands with the opposite sex (many of whom are taller than me) and singing along to something on their iPods. They don't look like students anymore.
So I look at them furtively as if to say: "Are they the ones? Will I be in front of them next?"
So they look furtively at me as if to say: "Is she the one? Was it her?"
But that's okay.
Because as I weave through the secondary students waiting for the bus I am giving them sideways glances. They are wearing blazers and ties, holding hands with the opposite sex (many of whom are taller than me) and singing along to something on their iPods. They don't look like students anymore.
So I look at them furtively as if to say: "Are they the ones? Will I be in front of them next?"
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Professional Development
Dear Victorian Institute of Teaching,
I would value your consideration of the following activities as contributing towards my required number of hours of Professional Development.
Area: Cultural Studies
Nature of Activity: Field Research - discussing the current trend known as "Skylanders"with Year Three boys, including the examination of a poster displaying photos of the "Skylanders".
Time Spent: 10 minutes.
Follow up activity:Confiscating Relocating models of "Skylanders"during class from student's desk to teacher's desk for further examination.
Area: Literacy (Grammar Usage)
Nature of Activity: Networking - reposting on Facebook a witticism about the danger of misusing commas when writing. (Consider: "Let's eat Grandma" as opposed to "Let's eat, Grandma").
Time Spent: 10 seconds.
Follow up activity: Explaining nature of witticism to eight year old daughter.
Area: Literature
Nature of Activity: Real Life Application - applying Dr Seuss Quotes to appropriate situations. For example, looking at the Misses' desk and stating: "And this mess is so big, and so deep and so tall, we cannot pick it up, there is no way at all!"
Time Spent: All. Day.
Follow up activity: Finding a large garbage bag.
With many thanks,
Kirrily
Casual Relief Teacher
I would value your consideration of the following activities as contributing towards my required number of hours of Professional Development.
Area: Cultural Studies
Nature of Activity: Field Research - discussing the current trend known as "Skylanders"with Year Three boys, including the examination of a poster displaying photos of the "Skylanders".
Time Spent: 10 minutes.
Follow up activity:
Area: Literacy (Grammar Usage)
Nature of Activity: Networking - reposting on Facebook a witticism about the danger of misusing commas when writing. (Consider: "Let's eat Grandma" as opposed to "Let's eat, Grandma").
Time Spent: 10 seconds.
Follow up activity: Explaining nature of witticism to eight year old daughter.
Area: Literature
Nature of Activity: Real Life Application - applying Dr Seuss Quotes to appropriate situations. For example, looking at the Misses' desk and stating: "And this mess is so big, and so deep and so tall, we cannot pick it up, there is no way at all!"
Time Spent: All. Day.
Follow up activity: Finding a large garbage bag.
With many thanks,
Kirrily
Casual Relief Teacher
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Four Days In...And Fluff
So I am four days into my Return to Teaching journey via the delightful method of Casual Relief Teaching. I haven't been in the classroom for almost nine years and there are some things on which I am a little rusty. So as I remerge into the art of kid wrangling in the hope that I might educate some bright young minds (okay, at least one will do) I am sure that I have learnt more than the students.
Particularly given that I am a qualified Secondary Teacher currently relieving in junior Primary classes.
So - here is a random selection of what I have learned so far.
Preps like to hold your hand. All. The. Time. Even on half hour yard duties in 35 degree heat.
Preps will also miss their mums - and you being a mum will not be good enough. No one else's mum is quite like their own. Although a hug might get them through the day.
You will never, ever, ever, EVER do things like the "real" teacher does according to Grade Ones. However - take the class more than once and they just might get used to you using your pen as a mini-microphone and they may even smile at fake messages from a fake friend called Barry that you keep receiving on the fake mobile phone you have confiscated. But don't hold out for a laugh.
You will not be a true Primary teacher until you use the little bell to gain attention or gain silence. And if you do use the bell realise that it will not gain you a free lunch from the canteen.
Dibber-Dobber-Tattle-Tales become tiresome very, very quickly.
He will push her and she will poke him and she will shove him and he will look at her and it will be nobody's fault but the other one started it and when is it snack time anyway?
Random students who you may or may not remember will come up and hug you in the playground.
Never send boys to the toilet together - it will only end with the Head of Primary marching them back into your classroom with a very stern look.
You never call a Prep's bluff if they say they need to go to the toilet. Especially if there is a nasty smell wafting up from below when they ask you if they can be excused to go to the toilet.
And speaking of nasty smells, never give an eight year old boy and activity to do where the main animal in the story is called Fluff - that is just asking for trouble.
Particularly given that I am a qualified Secondary Teacher currently relieving in junior Primary classes.
So - here is a random selection of what I have learned so far.
Preps like to hold your hand. All. The. Time. Even on half hour yard duties in 35 degree heat.
Preps will also miss their mums - and you being a mum will not be good enough. No one else's mum is quite like their own. Although a hug might get them through the day.
You will never, ever, ever, EVER do things like the "real" teacher does according to Grade Ones. However - take the class more than once and they just might get used to you using your pen as a mini-microphone and they may even smile at fake messages from a fake friend called Barry that you keep receiving on the fake mobile phone you have confiscated. But don't hold out for a laugh.
You will not be a true Primary teacher until you use the little bell to gain attention or gain silence. And if you do use the bell realise that it will not gain you a free lunch from the canteen.
Dibber-Dobber-Tattle-Tales become tiresome very, very quickly.
He will push her and she will poke him and she will shove him and he will look at her and it will be nobody's fault but the other one started it and when is it snack time anyway?
Random students who you may or may not remember will come up and hug you in the playground.
Never send boys to the toilet together - it will only end with the Head of Primary marching them back into your classroom with a very stern look.
You never call a Prep's bluff if they say they need to go to the toilet. Especially if there is a nasty smell wafting up from below when they ask you if they can be excused to go to the toilet.
And speaking of nasty smells, never give an eight year old boy and activity to do where the main animal in the story is called Fluff - that is just asking for trouble.
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