Diary of an NQT Learning the ropes


IT WAS interesting for me to see the new initial training teachers (ITTs) arriving at school. It seems like only yesterday that I was in their situation. There are four this year, training in science, ICT, business and English. Sat in the staffroom for Wednesday morning briefing, they looked like rabbits caught in headlights as they listened to everyone’s updates, frozen to the spot not even knowing who else was an ITT until the end of briefing when they were all introduced. After what has only


five weeks in front of the students, teaching several hours a day, I am only just feeling like I’m getting into the swing of things, but I did find it amusing that one of the ITTs was seriously worrying about having to do a starter or plenary in “just” a week’s time. I found myself saying: “It’s just 10 minutes, don’t worry about it too much, you’ll be fine.” I felt like I sounded like an


old hand, in fact the ITT didn’t even realise I was a NQT. To be fair, he’s probably still getting used to using all the acronyms. I decided not to mention that the first time I did the “10-minute challenge” it was awful. Of course, one of the reasons


why he thought I was an old hand was probably because I look totally shattered. On Tuesday there was an open day for prospective parents, the last lesson of the day was cancelled and all the kids went home a bit early to give us time to sort out our rooms, displays and activities. The science department wheeled out all sorts of fun experiments, activities and exotic equipment that I never even knew we had. There were dissections galore, fizzing, whizzing, exploding chemistry experiments, and electrifying physics demos.


It was pretty impressive stuff and the department was packed with excited kids, and parents, all of whom have rarely been allowed near anything remotely scary like a Bunsen burner. With parents’ evening and open evening occurring less than a week apart, all the staff are tired, as are the kids that have come in to help on both nights. The autumn/ winter term is certainly beginning to feel long and knackering, just like everyone has said. With the ITTs in, I was


reminded of one of the most interesting assignments – following a student or group of students around the school throughout the day. One of the students


in my top year 9 class couldn’t find her book and was genuinely upset about all the work she’d lost. I’ve given her the benefit of the doubt


and photocopied another student’s work for her. I had just seen the class and they left my room calm, heading to art for the last period of the day.


Arriving halfway through the art lesson I was surprised to see half-a- dozen students being taken out of the


lesson by the head of art. Among them were some of the best and nicest students I teach in science. Apparently in art they are one of the worst classes and the


art department is seeing what can be done to split the class up. It has got me thinking that it would valuable to see what they are like in other lessons and at different times of the day over the course of the next few weeks.


• Our NQT diarist this year writes anonymously and is a teacher of science from a secondary school in the East of England. He returns next week.


Thinking outside the triangle Moral support


We recently invited parents, teachers and pupils to send in video responses to a series of questions on behaviour. The responses would be used as part of Teacher Support Network’s breakfast fringe event at the Conservative Party Conference (Most teachers believe behaviour is declining, issue 261, October 7, 2010). One question we asked was: how do you feel when you see a pupil misbehaving in the classroom? Dot, a teacher, said: “When I see


a student misbehave I feel very sad for them,” admitting that in a classroom disruption is very irritating. She continued: “It is like playing snooker, you’ve got all your plans and your brain’s actively thinking, so if a child is disruptive then it’s interfering with your plan.” Asked the same question,


Vincenza, a mother, said: “I don’t feel anything to be honest with you. I think misbehaviour has happened for centuries, since there were children. Misbehaviour is commonplace and I would worry if there wasn’t any.” Finally, William, a nine-year old


boy, said that he didn’t know what to feel. He added: “I mean I don’t feel that good if it were one of my friends, but if it is someone I don’t like, I mean I can be quite happy.” I don’t pretend to say that the responses


of one teacher, one parent and one pupil reflect the complex nature of relationships between all teachers, parents and pupils, but are an illustration of the pupil, parent, teacher triangle that is so often talked about in education. Worryingly, in this example, the triangle is


scalene (no equal sides, no equal angles). It is only the teacher that seems to believe that behaviour is an issue, although admittedly the triangle does become isosceles, (two equal sides, two equal angles) when William’s friends are in trouble. The triangle gets even more off balance when we asked if they were worried about behaviour in schools. William, we have already established, is worried


about his friends, but otherwise not troubled. Dot, the teacher, is concerned about some of the behaviour in some of the schools – “over the last few years there has been a deterioration and it is a concern, because


if they are misbehaving, they are not learning”. Vincenza, the mother, simply said “no”. Less triangle, more polar opposites. Ninety-two per cent of teachers who responded


to the 2010 Behaviour Survey from Teacher Support Network and Parentline Plus, agreed with Dot, however, that behaviour in schools had got worse over the course of their careers. Behaviour is not an issue in every school, but these results mean that it is an issue that cannot be ignored. The survey also suggests


potential solutions to the behaviour issue. Ninety-five per cent of the teachers said guidance for parents about their responsibilities to support school behaviour policies was important or essential to


improving behaviour. Another 95 per cent felt parenting orders were important or essential, while 81 per cent of


respondents believed annual reviews of school behaviour policy, involving all staff, parents and pupils, were again important or essential, and 77 per cent called for behaviour and attendance partnerships. Each of these solutions requires co-operation between teachers, parents and pupils to be effective or, at the very least, between parents and teachers. The triangles must be equilateral (equal sides, equal angles) or


isosceles to work – not scalene. Perhaps the answer lies in talking to parents about a circle. We believe there is a causal link between poor discipline, poor


teacher wellbeing and poor school performance. It is this vicious circle that leads to increased teacher absenteeism and teachers leaving the profession. This not only has economic consequences for schools, but an educational impact for pupils. It is in the interests of teachers, parents and pupils to break this vicious circle, but that can only be done if they all work together equally – a little bit like a triangle.


• Julian Stanley is chief executive of the Teacher Support Network. Visit www.teachersupport.info or call 08000 562 261 (England), 08000 855088 (Wales). Moral support returns in two weeks.


What I have from the Ch


When a group of young musicians arrived in Crawley from the Chagos Islands, head of music Patrick Allen had no idea what was about to happen. He tells his story here, about one of the


most remarkable musical experiences of his 30-year career


and the school. It has caused me to completely rethink my views on


music education, musical ability and musical culture and has led to a very special group of young people performing at the Royal College of Music and at the finals of the National Festival of Music for Youth in the space of a year – despite having no formal musical training. The young people have arrived from Mauritius, but


C


have their family origins in the Chagos Islands from which they were removed (by the British) in the 1960s and 70s to make way for an American airbase on the island of Diego Garcia. Despite their entitlement to British citizenship,


and a presence on the island going back 250 years (to which the French took their ancestors from Africa as slaves), all of the islanders were transported to a newly independent Mauritius and more or less left to fend for themselves. A series of actions in the courts have led to them


being granted, then denied, the right to return to their islands and after the courageous actions of a small group, they have been allowed since 2004 to settle in the UK. As a result, about half of the worldwide diaspora


of Chagossians live in Crawley. Getting to know this group of young people has been one of the most remarkable musical experiences of my 30-year teaching career. The fact is that the Chagossians have arrived with a


living, breathing “culture”. Not a culture you buy into or consume, or measure your social position by, but a culture which unites the community and provides a real social and human bond. Musically they have advanced skills in listening,


performing and composing, which have not been taught in the formal sense, but learned as part of their family and community life. However their skills were not immediately evident and remained overlooked for some months. Arriving from a sunny island to a cold and tight-


lipped England must have been a shock. Add to this the burden of education in an alien language and the


8


RAWLEY IN West Sussex, where I teach music in a comprehensive school, has found itself at the centre of a curious and tragic human migration. It has come upon us gradually since 2005 and is transforming the culture of the town


assortment of disaffected and distracted young people who tend to inhabit the lower streams in which they were initially placed, it is hardly surprising that many either clammed up or became frustrated in their early days. Such are the burdens of tests and league tables, that many schools’ sole concern was to fast-track them through English, thereby focusing on their weaknesses. Indeed – even as a music teacher – watching these


students arrive in increasing numbers in classes, one’s concern would be will they understand my instructions? Will they be able to work with other students? Do they know their way around the keyboard? That is to say: do they have the skills to adapt and conform to my agenda? By chance I had three of the community in one year


9 class. A fourth arrived on a day when I gave the class a series of open choices for musical composition. The new boy chose to work with congas, and immediately started drumming with a level of skill and style that was very surprising. This encouraged two of the others to join in, providing complementary rhythms on djembes. A girl in the group picked up a triangle and provided a highly syncopated backbeat. The piece swirled around, evolved and transformed


with energy and excitement. I was so surprised I immediately asked the rest of the class and the head of year to come and listen. Over the following weeks, I let the Chagossians


in the class follow their own pathway. I brought them whatever they needed. Exciting developments included the turning of a drum on its side to become a ravanne and the revelation that one student was a virtuoso ravanne player. “I learned from my uncle,” he said. One day a member of the class came running to say


“the Mauritians are singing!” It had taken four weeks for them to feel secure enough about their environment to start performing their own songs in their own language. As time has gone on, they have revealed a vast repertoire of songs – and compose their own. It occurred to me that if I had four musical


Chagossians in one class, then surely the others must be musical too. I asked them to bring their friends along to a meeting so I could hear more play. Fifteen arrived. They chose the instruments they wanted: congas, a bass drum, the ocean drum/ravanne. djembes, shakers, assorted sizes of hand drum. The group started to improvise. What followed left me completely floored. One drummer set up a beat, the others joined in both complementing and adding to the rhythm. One player would then move the emphasis of the beat, the others would adapt.


SecEd • October 14 2010


MUSIC


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