Murdoch, Maggie & Miley – The Dream Team

We teachers are a predictable bunch. I would estimate that over three quarters of our classrooms are adorned with ‘inspiring quotes’ from great leaders and thinkers of days gone by. Teachers have two options when deciding how to bring positivity and hopefulness into the lives of their pupils and unfortunately both options normally fall on deaf ears (or is that deaf eyes?). Firstly they can follow their heart, and go for the quotes that used to inspire them when they were a lad or lass, Churchill (not the TV dog), Martin Luther King and Einstein are all common favourites.

Alternatively they can opt for a more modern approach and go for public figures that the pupils have actually heard of, or at least aware of their existence. This allows for some more interesting choices of David Beckham and Will Smith, quotes which I have seen before, albeit after a cartoon style double-take (a Will Smith quote, really?).

In addition to these there are obvious subject allegiances, English teachers favour playwrights, History teachers favour world leaders and mathematicians prefer…mathematicians, and aside from these there are few deviations from this norm.
To try and be too obscure only leads to constant badgering of “Who’s he?” or “Is that what you’re into sir?” from the pupils and it can often become more trouble than its worth. A bit of digression from the lesson can sometimes be a much needed break, but when you get the strong scent of stalling tactics you know it’s time to pull the quote down.

The prize for all time worst choice of inspirational quote combination (if that award doesn’t exist someone please invent it now) goes to a colleague of mine who put together a short PowerPoint presentation to coincide with the start of the exam period for year 11. During assembly this particular teacher had just got to the end of volume 14 of the trademark rousing speech about the importance of GCSEs. As you can imagine the teenage crowd were on tenterhooks and their anticipation was palpable. I was wondering whether her effort would be included in the next instalment of the Guardian’s ‘World’s Greatest Speeches’ supplements? Probably not. At this point I think even she knew she had lost 95% of the audience to mind-numbing boredom with even the other teachers resorting to activities like counting the bricks on the wall out of the window. It was then she unveiled her secret weapon, a PowerPoint presentation so powerful it threatened to claw back some attention from the students. What’s this? Music? Maybe I’ll give this a chance… No wait, It’s The Climb by Miley Cyrus, back to the bricks 87, 88, 89…

For a bit of light reading whilst this sickly sweet attempt at inspirational music delighted our ears, the teacher had made some interesting choices. First came a quote from Rupert Murdoch presumably advising the kids how they can achieve world domination by masquerading as a media mogul, and tips on saturating the public’s televisions and newspapers with narrow-minded views in order to scare people away from thinking for themselves. I didn’t read the quote but I assume it went something like that. The second was a quote from Margaret Thatcher and again my amusement at the selection meant I didn’t actually read it but I can hazard a guess as to what it said. Probably along the lines of giving the students a few tips on how to sell off public services to already wealthy capitalists and pretend it’s in the interest of the public. Or maybe it was outlining how to systematically destroy several industries in which vast numbers of people are employed. I don’t think anybody in the room even read the quote so it doesn’t matter but the choice alone made me chuckle.

The fact that this teacher thinks that Rupert Murdoch and Margaret Thatcher should be role models for our young adults is utterly disgusting. The only thing they can teach us is how to go against every moral and intelligent thought that we have just to make more money or gain more political power. If this is what my colleagues deem a success then our students are in trouble. The only thing these people can teach us is how not to live our lifes.

De-fault – the two greatest words in the English language

I was recently successful in securing a job at a new school. A slight movement up the leadership ladder but mainly the change was due to location. Obviously I informed my current school before hand when I told them I was going on the interview. A friend of mine in a similar position was offered what seemed like a game show haul of prizes in attempt to change his mind, I’m not sure if they were presented on a conveyor belt though, I wasn’t present at the meeting. I could only assume that they were waiting to see if I got the job first before enticing me to stay with promises of kitchen appliances, speedboats and maybe a cuddly toy.

I got the job and returned to work with a polite but affirmative speech all prepared to say ‘thanks, but no thanks’, but the speech wasn’t needed. They didn’t ask me. Now I know that I’m not the greatest practitioner but I thought a little arm-twisting may have gone on. Maybe not even that much attempted persuasion, maybe a bit of wrist-twisting, or maybe just a finger. But there was nothing forthcoming apart from a handshake. There’s nothing like a loose handshake and an insincere ‘congratulations’ to remind you how low an opinion people have of you.

I can’t really be surprised though as during my last few years I have voiced many of my own opinions on how poor I think some decisions have been in running this school, and how more importantly, when it came to making those decisions, our opinions as professionals have been either ignored or quickly forgotten.

I also can’t be surprised based on the way in which I was hired. There were four candidates on my original interview including me, and they took themselves out of the running in glorious style. The first candidate was over an hour late as they took the wrong exit on the motorway and got stuck in rush hour traffic. The second wrote on an interactive whiteboard in permanent marker, and the third declared in her interview that she only wanted to work 2 days a week part-time because she had ‘other commitments’. When I think of the other candidates I can almost hear the music from the Keystone Cops ringing out in the background. I’d like to say there was an element of disappointment at the way I was hired, that I would have preferred to have been the best of strong group. But I can’t, I like the easy option, that’s probably another reason why they’re happy to see me leave.

The students have voiced opposite opinions to the leadership team which is encouraging. Not all of them by any means, but a few have voiced their mild sorrow upon hearing of my imminent departure and from teenagers, that’s the best I think that you can hope for. This is the way round I’d prefer it to be. In my opinion it means I’m doing something right.

I am a Pathetic Little Boy

I set a year 10 class of mine a practice exam paper to do in the lesson so I could see what needed to be revised in the run up to the real thing. Naturally I wanted it to reflect their ability at that point and so I said it was to be done in exam conditions. Thankfully it was small group so I could easily split the students up so they had a full desk each. No opportunity for the shifty yawn/stretch/glance at the next student’s answers routine. During the second-long run through in my head of what I wanted to happen in this lesson this simple process took two minutes. In the real thing however it was proving much more difficult.

I asked one female student to move to a free table. Please bear in mind she wasn’t the first to move and she had already had ever conceivable question answered for her... “Why?” She said. I repeated the reasons... “Why?” She said again. She’s not getting this, I thought. I repeated the reasons for a third time… She stood up, “You are,” she paused, and thought carefully for a moment “a pathetic little boy.” And she walked out.

(B)OOBs – the death of school boy humour

Five million three hundred and eighteen thousand and eight. A number so glorious it deserves to have its own statue somewhere, or perhaps written into the national anthem somehow so that it is forever remembered for its perfection. There isn’t a person in the whole country who hasn’t sat in a board meeting or conference sniggering to themselves as they enter those sacred numbers on a calculator, slowly turns it and slides it in front of another equally bored colleague. If you didn’t have a childhood, or haven’t at least grasped my meaning yet then please take a moment to enter the number on a calculator and bask in the warm rays of comedy emitting from the solar-powered display.

This is a perfect example of the fine British tradition that is schoolboy humour. Jokes so simple that the 8 year old who devised them should be knighted. Comedic beauties such as writing ‘smells’ after someone’s name in graffiti or pulling a chair away from a prospective sitter. Some become more elaborate with time which sometimes dilutes their purity (I remember an accompanying rhyme for a similar calculator gag but the finer details escape me) but there is no avoiding the root of the humour as pure comedy gold.

But, as if announced by a fanfare of whoopee cushions, schoolboy humour appears to be dying, and I have both the proof and the guilty party. The proof lies in a sign being displayed around school warning students that if they enter these places at breaktimes then they will be ‘Out Of Bounds’ or ‘OOBs’ and a detention will be issued. Please take a moment to imagine my slow and agonising descent into despair as every time I walk past this sign my hopes are momentarily raised and immediately dashed as I pray that some comedy scholar has added a simple yet beautiful letter B to the start of the warning but alas, there is no B. What’s wrong with these people? Doesn’t anyone have the time or inclination anymore to add letters to signs to turn them into dirty words? Surely this sad day isn’t upon just yet?

As I said before I believe I have found the culprit for turning schoolboy humour into some distant Orwellian memory of freedom. Sadly the finger of blame needs to be pointed at the same device which played such an important part in the development of schoolboy humour, the Casio calculator. This once hallowed, now heinous mathematical instrument has well and truly sold out it’s roots by embracing technology. The subtle but crucial change involves the calculator display and more importantly its transition from archetypal digital font to a smoother and more realistic style. The display may be more user-friendly for 99% of your mathematical needs, but what’s friendly about 5318008 not looking like the word ‘boobies’? Nothing. Shame on you Casio, and until a pupil adds that all important letter B to the tantalising warning sign, I’m holding you personally responsible for making the world a drearier place.

Dressed To Kill (Independent Thought)

I don’t have a great deal to remember before setting off to work. Over the years many habits have been abandoned in order to streamline the morning routine and ultimately allow for more time in bed. Hair-brushing, lunch preparation, watching the news and even the institution that is breakfast have all become casualties of my laziness. Only basic personal hygiene and clothing have survived my schedule overhaul, a decision much appreciated by my colleagues.

I do appear however to be in the minority when it comes to my lack of attention to appearances. Both male and female members of staff consistently turn out with ever more intricate hairstyles and uber-fashionable outfits. The problem isn’t in their clothes though, it’s in their actions. Aside from the fact that most of them look ridiculously over dressed, (some of them look like they’re shooting straight off to a wedding after work, or maybe to Ascot for the final race of the day) I do feel that they are enjoying the hypocrisy of experimenting with fashion whilst simultaneously handing out detentions for untucked shirts, hair accessories, and skirts and heels that are either an inch too short or too high respectively. There are obvious standards in student uniform that need to be adhered too but those members of staff that are so regularly giving warnings to students on their attire, are those that also push the boundaries of vertical fringe length in males or hooped earring diameter in females.

As well as the hypocrisy we are in effect telling students that these minor misdemeanours that may require, at most, a quiet reminder, are the equivalent to much more serious issues. Is having your sleeves rolled up really the same as throwing an (empty) coke can at another student’s head? Events which I heard recently carried the same punishment. The next phone call or meeting I have with an irate parent outlining their disgust at a detention issued for a petty uniform offence will force me to perform some amateur gymnastics on the hooped earrings of my detention-happy colleague.