Is this a fire drill?
Mar. 5th, 2005 09:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the_vultureThis week was a long one. Aside from having to revisit my reports (leave it to me to trust the spell checker that just happened to be American), I've had to deal with a parent teachers' meeting for year 10 and other after school stuff. End result, I'm back to being behind in my marking. Ugh! Thursday was particularly trying; I had two bad classes right at the end of the day and, despite the much better classes I had earlier, I just wound up being hit hard by a lack of faith in my ability to manage a class. I was getting so frustrated with the last class that I sent a student to get the assistant head of English to give me some support before I hit a cracking point. 'Course, by the time he got there, I had managed to get the class settled again. And, yes, they wound up spending extra time with me after-school.
BTW, this particular group has come to surpass the Hell 9s in terms of unmanageability. From henceforth, they are the Hell 7s. There have been other changes in the class ranking as well; the year 10s still give me occasional grief, but they have migrated up the ranks to become one of the classes I actually look forward to. What used to be my worst year 8 class has gotten much better. I'm still trying to sort out the year 8 group that's drifted down to my second worst class. The former Hell 9s have drifted up to the best of the worst; I can generally keep them reasonably quiet (though getting many of them to work is another matter). And I still have delightful year 8 and 7 classes that have remained a delight to teach. Sadly, I share them with other teachers and don't get them as much as I would like. In general, the management has improved, but, as periods 5 and 6 of Thursday proved, I still have rough spots.
I also had a bit of emotional roughness later on that afternoon as I sorted and boxed the form group stuff for the next form tutor to take.
It wasn't easy to make the announcement about the changeover in form tutor the next morning. They had already heard about it and were demanding confirmation. Strangely though, it didn't go as I expected; I imagined that there would have been at least two or three cheers, but no. In fact, they were rather dismayed when they found out who their new form tutor will be. They did express some feelings of abandonment (this lot have gone through a LOT of form tutors), but they seem to handle it quite reasonably. At the end of the last registration period, a number of them (including key trouble makers) stopped to shake my hands. I had to put a strangle hold on the desire to reverse this whole process and take them back. (sigh...)
As for the three classes I am normally scheduled for on Fridays (yes, that's were three of my four free periods wound up), they went well, even with the wretched lot of little year 7s that caused me so much grief the afternoon before. I felt like things were finally coming together, but time will tell.
The day almost ended on a good note. Instead, it ended weird. In my pigeon hole that morning, I was dismayed to discover a cover slip for period 6 (alas!). In period 5, I actually took a close look at it to see what and where I'll be teaching. I was thrilled to find out that I was to cover an art class! I got to teach a lesson involving interposing letter and number forms, lines, and shapes to create graphic images. I was warned that the year group I would be dealing with was a noisy lot, but I 0wnZ0red them; I was on fire!
Unfortunately, so too was something in one of the girls' bathrooms. At about a quarter to three, the fire alarm went off. We started getting to ready to leave and were part way out the door when it ended. Okay, back in we went. Then it began ringing again. And out we went again. We gathered in a large lot behind the school where over a thousand students lined up by form. It was the near the end of the day and it was cold out; you can imagine just how noisy and unsettled they were. Trying to keep them in line in the midst of an informational vacuum, especially when the fire trucks arrived, was a bit challenging. It became even more so as 3 o'clock rolled by and the children wanted to be on their way home. Eventually, though, things got sorted out and we were able to release them.
The cost for all this mayhem? About 500 pounds worth of damage and many sore throats (mine amongst them).
I suppose I was incorrect in stating that the day did not end on a good note; I went back to the art department to square the student work that was left behind and to hand in the register sheet. I was treated to a tour of the art department by one of the art teachers, who had noted that I had kept good control of the class, enjoyed what I was teaching, and actually knew something about it. The English department may be a wretched hive of scum and villainy, but Art department was splendid, with three large, airy classrooms and an extra studio area for the sixth formers.You could FEEL the positive energy in this place! If offered a position in the art department, I'd sign on without hesitation. Yes, Friday did, indeed, end well.
BTW, this particular group has come to surpass the Hell 9s in terms of unmanageability. From henceforth, they are the Hell 7s. There have been other changes in the class ranking as well; the year 10s still give me occasional grief, but they have migrated up the ranks to become one of the classes I actually look forward to. What used to be my worst year 8 class has gotten much better. I'm still trying to sort out the year 8 group that's drifted down to my second worst class. The former Hell 9s have drifted up to the best of the worst; I can generally keep them reasonably quiet (though getting many of them to work is another matter). And I still have delightful year 8 and 7 classes that have remained a delight to teach. Sadly, I share them with other teachers and don't get them as much as I would like. In general, the management has improved, but, as periods 5 and 6 of Thursday proved, I still have rough spots.
I also had a bit of emotional roughness later on that afternoon as I sorted and boxed the form group stuff for the next form tutor to take.
It wasn't easy to make the announcement about the changeover in form tutor the next morning. They had already heard about it and were demanding confirmation. Strangely though, it didn't go as I expected; I imagined that there would have been at least two or three cheers, but no. In fact, they were rather dismayed when they found out who their new form tutor will be. They did express some feelings of abandonment (this lot have gone through a LOT of form tutors), but they seem to handle it quite reasonably. At the end of the last registration period, a number of them (including key trouble makers) stopped to shake my hands. I had to put a strangle hold on the desire to reverse this whole process and take them back. (sigh...)
As for the three classes I am normally scheduled for on Fridays (yes, that's were three of my four free periods wound up), they went well, even with the wretched lot of little year 7s that caused me so much grief the afternoon before. I felt like things were finally coming together, but time will tell.
The day almost ended on a good note. Instead, it ended weird. In my pigeon hole that morning, I was dismayed to discover a cover slip for period 6 (alas!). In period 5, I actually took a close look at it to see what and where I'll be teaching. I was thrilled to find out that I was to cover an art class! I got to teach a lesson involving interposing letter and number forms, lines, and shapes to create graphic images. I was warned that the year group I would be dealing with was a noisy lot, but I 0wnZ0red them; I was on fire!
Unfortunately, so too was something in one of the girls' bathrooms. At about a quarter to three, the fire alarm went off. We started getting to ready to leave and were part way out the door when it ended. Okay, back in we went. Then it began ringing again. And out we went again. We gathered in a large lot behind the school where over a thousand students lined up by form. It was the near the end of the day and it was cold out; you can imagine just how noisy and unsettled they were. Trying to keep them in line in the midst of an informational vacuum, especially when the fire trucks arrived, was a bit challenging. It became even more so as 3 o'clock rolled by and the children wanted to be on their way home. Eventually, though, things got sorted out and we were able to release them.
The cost for all this mayhem? About 500 pounds worth of damage and many sore throats (mine amongst them).
I suppose I was incorrect in stating that the day did not end on a good note; I went back to the art department to square the student work that was left behind and to hand in the register sheet. I was treated to a tour of the art department by one of the art teachers, who had noted that I had kept good control of the class, enjoyed what I was teaching, and actually knew something about it. The English department may be a wretched hive of scum and villainy, but Art department was splendid, with three large, airy classrooms and an extra studio area for the sixth formers.You could FEEL the positive energy in this place! If offered a position in the art department, I'd sign on without hesitation. Yes, Friday did, indeed, end well.
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no subject
Date: 2005-03-05 10:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-22 07:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-05 03:34 pm (UTC)I am glad to hear that there are some bright spots to your week. I can't believe how much work these kids are. You are a very strong person. There is no way I would be able to be a teacher. Nope. *g*
When are you coming back?
Date: 2005-03-07 02:21 am (UTC)Re: When are you coming back?
Date: 2005-03-22 07:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-22 07:54 pm (UTC)