Can I have one of those 'time turner' things, please?

I've decided that what I really need is one of those things that Harry Potter's mate Hermione wears round her neck, to allow her to turn back time. She originally used hers so that she could be in two classes at once, but I just want more hours in the day (and in the night, as nine hours' sleep still doesn't seem to be enough).

I have my crit on Wednesday, so am preoccupied with that, but can't neglect my other lessons, so really don't know where to start today. After I've finished my retrospective lesson plans, that is, as my tutor will want to see them too. My PT also wanted to see them but I'm afraid I had to say no, as they didn't even exist at that point. Instead, I gave her a sheaf of my lesson observation notes; they are exceedingly informal and are peppered with comments such as "Kept getting flashbacks. The horror! The horror!", but at least she was chortling when I snuck off back to Glasgow at 3.30 yesterday afternoon.

As if I didn't have enough to worry (OK, moan...) about, I was told at work today that my failure to deliver any sales / leads was unacceptable and I am being put on an action plan. My response - "well in that case I'll just leave, this isn't my top priority" - was perhaps a little ill-judged, as the meagre salary I get from my Saturday job may not be much, but it is fairly essential! Hmmm....

Presence, presence, presence....

My second week of proper teaching, and I am still being told that I lack 'presence'. I have asked the drama teacher for some acting lessons! I have tried to emulated what the 'real' teachers do, but it doesn't always work for me. Another problem is that I have spent twenty years of work talking entirely to adults, and I'm struggling to adjust the way I address the kids. Having said that, some of the teachers here talk to me as if I was one of their pupils...I was insulted at first, but they seem to address the other student in the same way. Please don't let me ever get like that!

I am also struggling a bit with my first-years, who are...hmmm....'challenging'. One of the little darlings (face of an angel, soul of Satan) said to me yesterday "Is your teacher coming today?". When I said that no, he was coming next week, she said "Mrs B said he was coming today". "What else did Mrs B say?", I asked, "Did she tell you to behave yourselves?". "Yes," she answered, "But we weren't going to".

I believe her.

Testing...

I have tried to change the time, to make it show GMT. This is just a test to see if it has worked (you see the faith I have in technology and my own ability to master it?).

Well, that was an action-packed week!

I have gone from having done no teaching, to having taken seven lessons this week! The first one, unfortunately, was allocated to me five minutes before it started, and was fairly disastrous. It was a Higher class and they were well-behaved, bless them, but it must have been obvious to all that I was winging it and had no plan whatsoever. My first proper, planned, lesson was yesterday morning (was it just yesterday?!), with some delightful (yes, really) 2nd-years, who were suitably enthusiastic and co-operative, and I am looking forward (hmmm....) to having my second crit with them next month.

The teachers have been great at giving me feedback, but already I feel I am destined to have the words "She had a nice manner" etched on my grave-stone, as two of them used those exact words. I suppose that's a good thing! However, I definitely need to have more of a 'presence', as I let the kids talk over me quite a lot, and my classroom management so far is really not the best! One thing I have improved on since yesterday is my writing-on-the-board technique. Even I struggle to read my own handwriting sometimes, so making it the same except bigger wasn't terribly effective. So, I spent about 40 minutes this afternoon practising in an empty classroom, trying out different styles and running to the back of the room to make sure it was legible. It's a small triumph, but I need all the confidence-boosters I can get!

Anyway, I feel it's time to pour myself a well-deserved glass of red wine...

Well, I'm clearly not very good at this blogging thing, as my last post seems not to be there. Ah well!

I'm home for the weekend, and this 'distant placement' thing and its associated travelling is already doing my head in. I should have driven back down to my accommodation this afternoon, but have had a killer migraine and have spent most of the day lying around pathetically. So, I am planning on driving down to the Borders at the crack of well-before-dawn tomorrow, so as to avoid the M8 traffic and reach school in time.

This time last week, I was as scared as I have ever been, at the prospect of going back on placement. I don't know what I imagined was going to happen to me on Monday; maybe I thought I would be thrown in front of a class and told to get on with it? In the event, the teachers were very welcoming, and I feel I have settled back in. Still haven't done any actual teaching though (I don't think doing a spelling test with S2s counts), and that is a worry. However, I got to meet lots of other baby English teachers at a Local Authority in-service day on Friday, which was great.

Who knows what this week holds? Stand by for the latest thrilling (yawn...) instalment soon...

Where to start?

Unoriginal as ever, I only got the idea of setting up a blog when some enthusiastic techy-type people did a lecture at Uni last Friday, and showed us the blog of a Probationer teacher who did our course last year.

I am a student on the PGDE(S) course at Strathclyde University, and am hoping to become an English teacher. We are going on our first proper placement on Monday, for six weeks, and I am as scared as I have ever been in my life. Maybe I could start by cutting and pasting my musings relating to my Induction placement - only a month ago, although it seems like forever. Here goes...


The Sunday morning before Induction started saw me running around frantically saying “Why did I say I would do a distant placement? Why? Why?!” It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but as I checked and rechecked everything, realising just how much I needed to take, it struck me that I would far far rather be swanning along to Shawlands Academy or similar on the Tuesday. Any school in Glasgow, in fact, even a terrible one, seemed like a better idea. As I scanned my CDs, mindful of the 23-year-old I would be giving a lift to and yelling “What do young people like? Robbie Williams? Snow Patrol?”, I realised I was beginning to lose it and took a deep breath, comforting myself with the thought that the town I was going to is lovely, our accommodation looked wonderful and the children would be delightful.

All of which turned out to be true!

It was a pain not being able to access the internet / my own books / different clothes when I got home at night, but I can't help feeling that I would have felt very lost and alone, even in my own house, without being able to talk to someone (two people, in fact) in the same position about my experiences each day. Nevertheless, a 44 mile round trip every day wasn't really what I had anticipated; on the contrary, I had been expecting to be placed in a wee flat in the High Street, from which I could stroll to and from school each day, possibly even going back at lunchtime. Hmmm.

That first morning was strange, because I had expected to be nervous, and I was oddly calm. Not until I put on my lipstick did I feel even a twinge of nervousness, and even then I was more worried about the drive than about any horrors which may await me in school. Driving up the hill to the High School and seeing hordes of black and white clad children, the reality finally hit me: I was going to be walking in and pretending to be a teacher.

Now, I know that schools are full of children, and I know that children are quite boisterous, but that didn't prepare me for how I felt when I first went into the school for the first time and was immediately surrounded by what seemed like hundreds of small people, all dressed in black and white (as was I, inadvisedly). It was terrifying! I didn't think I'd get hurt, or anything, but I had forgotten what it was like to be in the middle of a huge, jostling, noisy crowd. I signed in and went to the Rector's office and it finally felt real: the Rector had me on his list, I had arrived on the correct day, and I was not there under false pretences.

I wondered before I got there, and while I was there, how the teachers feel about students. Do they remember being in the same position themselves, and embrace the opportunity of helping a soon-to-be colleague? Do they look on them as being an extra pair of hands in the classroom? Or do they think they are a complete pain in the neck and wonder what they did to deserve being saddled with them? Whatever the truth, the teachers made me feel welcome and spoke to me as an equal. For my part, I tried not to say anything contentious and endeavoured to be friendly, helpful and willing to learn. And bearing in mind that I need to keep on their right side, I bought cookies on my last day, which they fell upon like vultures (if vultures ate cookies).

I soon settled into life at school, and would quite happily just have stayed there. I felt then – and continued to feel when I got back to Jordanhill – that I was learning far more by being in a school than I'll ever learn by attending lectures. The scheme that they run in England, whereby student teachers can become qualified solely by being trained in a school, now doesn't seem so silly. It's difficult to say how it's all going to go when all I have had is two weeks' induction, but I was relieved to find that I did actually enjoy being in school, and felt fairly comfortable and reasonably confident. Of course, I am already quaking in my boots about doing actual teaching – and about my crits in particular – but I'm certain that the only way to allay my fears will be to get in there and do it.

Onto the next stage!