Every so often I'll post about an activity I did or a technique I used that was good. I find I often forget these good things when I should be reusing them. Hopefully by recording them on the blog I'll remember them.
So, what I'm sharing with you this week is an activity I did with my year 7 class. I told them they were going to have a little competition (which was met with a few "YES!"s), and that it would be a competition against me. This excited them because they know I'm both extremely competitive and extremely clever. They would love the opportunity to take me down a peg or two (as would most people, probably).
The competition was this: I will play against one person at a time. We will start from zero, and we will take it inturns to add either 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 or 10. The winner is the person who reaches 100. It's very similar to 21 dares, or those games where you have to avoid being the one who takes the last matchstick.
Now obviously, there is a trick that means you always win. Work this out for yourself, I don't want to spoil your fun! (Hint: whoever gets up to 89 has won, because whatever the other person says, you will be able to reach 100 on your next go. By extension, whoever gets to 78 has won, as they can get to 89, and so on). I took on about 7 students in total and beat all of them. As I did it, pupils started to notice things. This is what the pupils discovered, in order:
1) If Miss says 89, then she's won
2) Whoever goes first always wins (false!)
3) You need to stop her getting to 89
4) Get to 78, because then she can't go to 89!
I then extended them to realise that there were certain numbers that you should always try to aim for to make sure you win, and they spotted the pattern of these numbers. On the next go, a student beat me. And as much as it pains me to admit it, he beat me fair and square (I got my numbers mixed up). You can imagine how happy that made the class: "We beat Miss, and she got bare A*s!"
The class was then desperate to show off this newfound skill by challenging the head of maths to a competition. This hasn't been arranged yet but I think it's a really nice idea. I hope they beat him!
You can obviously extend the activity by considering a different target instead of 100, and different numbers that you're allowed to add.
I'm going to do the same activity with my other classes to see how it turns out. If you try out this activity, please let me know how it goes!
Emma x x x
Thursday, 22 March 2012
Tuesday, 20 March 2012
Practise, Practise, Practise!
You have no idea how long I just spent deciding whether to spell practise the verb way (with an s) or the noun way (with a c) in the title. I think the expression is giving a command, so I decided to go for verb. And that's your literacy lesson for today.
Back to maths...
Imagine this situation: you're teaching, say, pie charts to, say, year 7s. You take them through an example and leave them to finish the question off individually. You then go through the answer. Then you get the pupils to hold up their traffic light cards to show whether they understand and got the right answer. Almost the whole class hold up their green card. You then say, "Good, in that case, do this one", indicating an identical question which has different numbers.
What is wrong with this scene?
In my opinion, nothing. However, some people, not mentioning any organisations (*cough* OfSTED *cough*) would say (did say, in fact) that there is a fatal flaw in the above.
All of the pupils hold up green, indicating they can do it. So why give them another question to do? Surely that's just a waste of time?
This might just sound like I'm being bitter about getting a worse observation grade than I would have liked (and let's face it, I am), but I just can't seem to come around to this way of thinking. In maths, you can't do something correctly once and assume you have secured that skill enough to remember it for the rest of the year, or even the rest of the day. My year 7s told me they could do that question. But transferring that to answering another question with different numbers, even if the method is exactly the same, is not trivial for most children. By rehearsing the skill again and again, it embeds it in their memories.
In addition, we all know what year 7s are like: they're either super-confident and claim that everything is easy and they can do it all, or they're the opposite and declare everything impossibly difficult. My class seems to be entirely made up of the former, perhaps because that's usually my own attitude towards learning anything new (which is why I injure myself so often in Pilates). I knew that my class holding up green traffic lights had to be taken with a pinch of salt. Green doesn't really indicate that they get something, it more indicates that they are willing to have a go and are in a positive learning mood. I knew this, I guess my "theoretical" observer didn't.
So I made my year 7s practise the skill for the rest of the lesson, apparently redundantly. I then set them the same type of question as homework. Do you want to guess how that piece of homework went? That's right, half of the class couldn't remember how to do it.
Now I can already sense a lot of you out there wanting to play devil's avocado on this one: repetition isn't necessarily the best way to embed something in memory. Doing just one question, but focusing heavily on developing understanding and making the experience memorable by including exaggeration, rhythm and movement, colour, order and patterns, laughter etc is more effective. Well yeah, you're right. I have absolutely no comeback for that one. Except: IF YOU'RE SO ****ING GOOD YOU COME AND TEACH THEM.
This week I've been thinking about pointless versus appropriate repetition. It's quite difficult to identify which it is. I'm going to make a special effort to avoid repetition and focus on deriving maximum understanding and memorability from one question.
What do you think? Should kids be going through a page of 10Ticks every lesson or is once enough for understanding to embed?
I'll leave you with the words of one of my professors from uni: "Practise, practise, practise: maths is not a spectator sport!"
Emma x x x
Back to maths...
Imagine this situation: you're teaching, say, pie charts to, say, year 7s. You take them through an example and leave them to finish the question off individually. You then go through the answer. Then you get the pupils to hold up their traffic light cards to show whether they understand and got the right answer. Almost the whole class hold up their green card. You then say, "Good, in that case, do this one", indicating an identical question which has different numbers.
What is wrong with this scene?
In my opinion, nothing. However, some people, not mentioning any organisations (*cough* OfSTED *cough*) would say (did say, in fact) that there is a fatal flaw in the above.
All of the pupils hold up green, indicating they can do it. So why give them another question to do? Surely that's just a waste of time?
This might just sound like I'm being bitter about getting a worse observation grade than I would have liked (and let's face it, I am), but I just can't seem to come around to this way of thinking. In maths, you can't do something correctly once and assume you have secured that skill enough to remember it for the rest of the year, or even the rest of the day. My year 7s told me they could do that question. But transferring that to answering another question with different numbers, even if the method is exactly the same, is not trivial for most children. By rehearsing the skill again and again, it embeds it in their memories.
In addition, we all know what year 7s are like: they're either super-confident and claim that everything is easy and they can do it all, or they're the opposite and declare everything impossibly difficult. My class seems to be entirely made up of the former, perhaps because that's usually my own attitude towards learning anything new (which is why I injure myself so often in Pilates). I knew that my class holding up green traffic lights had to be taken with a pinch of salt. Green doesn't really indicate that they get something, it more indicates that they are willing to have a go and are in a positive learning mood. I knew this, I guess my "theoretical" observer didn't.
So I made my year 7s practise the skill for the rest of the lesson, apparently redundantly. I then set them the same type of question as homework. Do you want to guess how that piece of homework went? That's right, half of the class couldn't remember how to do it.
Now I can already sense a lot of you out there wanting to play devil's avocado on this one: repetition isn't necessarily the best way to embed something in memory. Doing just one question, but focusing heavily on developing understanding and making the experience memorable by including exaggeration, rhythm and movement, colour, order and patterns, laughter etc is more effective. Well yeah, you're right. I have absolutely no comeback for that one. Except: IF YOU'RE SO ****ING GOOD YOU COME AND TEACH THEM.
This week I've been thinking about pointless versus appropriate repetition. It's quite difficult to identify which it is. I'm going to make a special effort to avoid repetition and focus on deriving maximum understanding and memorability from one question.
What do you think? Should kids be going through a page of 10Ticks every lesson or is once enough for understanding to embed?
I'll leave you with the words of one of my professors from uni: "Practise, practise, practise: maths is not a spectator sport!"
Emma x x x
Thursday, 8 March 2012
Ofsted: a Survival Guide for NQTs
Recently my Principal received "The Phonecall". We were told OFSTED would arrive in 48 hours. This is a scary thing for any teacher to hear, let alone an NQT.
I was anxious but also quite excited. It might not surprise some of you to know that I always enjoyed exams at school. I like getting the opportunity to prove how amazing I am. Of course, in school I was amazing at pretty much everything (except not being hated for being so arrogant), whereas now the only things I'm amazing at are accessorising to match my lesson plan, cube-rooting numbers in my head, and memorising my students' birthdays to freak them out*.
My academy was aiming for "Outstanding" so I felt like I was under a lot of pressure. I am *not* an Oustanding teacher. It pains me to admit that I'm not the best at something. I don't like it. But I have to accept that being a good teacher comes with experience, and very few teachers are Outstanding in their NQT. I don't like accepting this.
I am a very calm and laid back person , so I didn't worry about the inspection until the day before. Then I realised just how much preparation is needed for OFSTED. I had to produce:
-A lesson plan for all of my lessons that day.
-A compilation of data on each class.
-A seating plan for each class.
-A set of expertly marked exercise books for each class.
I also had to tidy up my classroom and add to my displays.
This tookbare a long time (do you find that students' language starts to invade your own?). I left school at 6:30pm and I can say with some certainty I was the earliest non-parent to leave. Some of my colleagues were there until 10pm. I got home and had dinner and then started working again. I worked until 9pm and then, being the procrastinator that I am, I thought, I'll do the rest tomorrow. I rarely stay awake past 9pm (even on weekends) so my eyes were starting to droop. I set my alarm for 3am and went to sleep. In the morning I worked for 3 hours, ran in and out of the shower like an instant carwash, and left for school at 6:30am. I was at school by 7am, and did another 1.5hours' work. It was then, 15 minutes before the first bell, that I was told I would be observed during period 1. Instatly relief washed over me: it felt so good to know. At that point, by the way, I still hadn't written my lesson plans for period 3 and 4 (I was free period 2). I didn't bother writing them in the end, because lightning doesn't strike twice, right?
So yeah, the observation. Well it was fine. My students behaved impeccably, even before the inspector arrived (they observed the second half). They were desperate to impress, more so than me I think!
I went and got feedback at the end of the day. The inspector told me lots of positive things:
-My strength is that I never tell kids how to do something or what the answer is, I question them until they can tell me.
-I have good relationships with students: they like me and there is an upbeat atmosphere in my classroom.
-I assessed regularly.
They also told me some things that could have been better, which were quite specific to the lesson but I'll try and tell you them without being too specific:
-After getting my pupils to traffic light and seeing lots of greens, I still got them to do another question similar to the one they'd just done. This was pointless because they already said they could do it. (I privately disagree with this to be honest. In maths you can't do something once and expect to be able to remember it forever. Plus my pupils are always over-confident in their self-assessments).
-When one student still didn't get it near the end, I should have gone back to the original long explanation from the start with the whole class, rather than explaining the method quickly again for him.
So there you go. The negatives weren't anything like, "there's no evidence of differentiation in your lesson plan" or "your learning objective should have included PLTS", it was very focused on moments in the lesson where I made a decision that was possibly not the right one. I think this is an extremely fair way of observing. It was very focused on the progress of the students, not on stupid gimmicks. I didn't do any group work, but who cares? There wasn't a moment in the lesson that would have benefitted from it. I think they focused on "hinge points" in the lesson, the bit where the lesson changes direction based on assessment. It's how you handle these hinges that's important.
Here are my top tips for surviving OFSTED:
- Make a seating plan (annotated with SEN, G&T, EAL, etc) and print off your class data now so that if OFSTED call you have a few less things to worry about.
-Plan normal lessons that you will feel comfortable delivering. Don't be flashy, that's not what they're looking for.
-Think about the hinge points in your lesson and how you're going to handle them. Think: what if they all get it/none of them gets it/half get it etc.
-Put a set of well-marked books near the place they're going to sit. I had some (about 5) full-up books from a good class that I deliberately put near an empty desk. I removed the books that were messy or marked badly. I noticed afterwards that the pile was in a different order so they must have been looked at. If your class is using their books the inspector can't really examine them much.
-I don't know if this is a good tip but when I got my class to traffic light I told them to turn around and show "our visitor" their colour too. I thought this would be helpful for their observation and I think they appreciated it but who knows.
-Brief your class beforehand. Mine were amazing, they really tried to look engaged and clever. One pupil called me over and whispered "Miss, he's standing behind me, ask me a really good question". Isn't that great?
Obviously the main thing is not to panic, but I think that's a useless bit of advice because you're either born a panicker or a non-panicker (like me). Remember there is no failure, only feedback. Even if you get rated "inadequate" (hate that word), you will get lots of useful feedback from it.
By the way, I was rated Satisfactory with Good features. That's an improvement on my last observation, so I'm happy. Also, it looks good because the inspectors will see that the school has rated me Satisfactory, so by beating that score, I validate the school's observation records. It's like moderating coursework: if the examiner thinks you've marked a piece of coursework too low, they raise all of your class's marks. So don't worry about getting Outstanding, just try to beat the score you have on record.
Good luck to anyone facing OFSTED this term. I found it a very positive experience overall, and I'm not just saying that.
Emma x x x
*I used to do this when I was at school. I still remember most of my form group's birthdays, or at least their star signs.
I was anxious but also quite excited. It might not surprise some of you to know that I always enjoyed exams at school. I like getting the opportunity to prove how amazing I am. Of course, in school I was amazing at pretty much everything (except not being hated for being so arrogant), whereas now the only things I'm amazing at are accessorising to match my lesson plan, cube-rooting numbers in my head, and memorising my students' birthdays to freak them out*.
My academy was aiming for "Outstanding" so I felt like I was under a lot of pressure. I am *not* an Oustanding teacher. It pains me to admit that I'm not the best at something. I don't like it. But I have to accept that being a good teacher comes with experience, and very few teachers are Outstanding in their NQT. I don't like accepting this.
I am a very calm and laid back person , so I didn't worry about the inspection until the day before. Then I realised just how much preparation is needed for OFSTED. I had to produce:
-A lesson plan for all of my lessons that day.
-A compilation of data on each class.
-A seating plan for each class.
-A set of expertly marked exercise books for each class.
I also had to tidy up my classroom and add to my displays.
This took
So yeah, the observation. Well it was fine. My students behaved impeccably, even before the inspector arrived (they observed the second half). They were desperate to impress, more so than me I think!
I went and got feedback at the end of the day. The inspector told me lots of positive things:
-My strength is that I never tell kids how to do something or what the answer is, I question them until they can tell me.
-I have good relationships with students: they like me and there is an upbeat atmosphere in my classroom.
-I assessed regularly.
They also told me some things that could have been better, which were quite specific to the lesson but I'll try and tell you them without being too specific:
-After getting my pupils to traffic light and seeing lots of greens, I still got them to do another question similar to the one they'd just done. This was pointless because they already said they could do it. (I privately disagree with this to be honest. In maths you can't do something once and expect to be able to remember it forever. Plus my pupils are always over-confident in their self-assessments).
-When one student still didn't get it near the end, I should have gone back to the original long explanation from the start with the whole class, rather than explaining the method quickly again for him.
So there you go. The negatives weren't anything like, "there's no evidence of differentiation in your lesson plan" or "your learning objective should have included PLTS", it was very focused on moments in the lesson where I made a decision that was possibly not the right one. I think this is an extremely fair way of observing. It was very focused on the progress of the students, not on stupid gimmicks. I didn't do any group work, but who cares? There wasn't a moment in the lesson that would have benefitted from it. I think they focused on "hinge points" in the lesson, the bit where the lesson changes direction based on assessment. It's how you handle these hinges that's important.
Here are my top tips for surviving OFSTED:
- Make a seating plan (annotated with SEN, G&T, EAL, etc) and print off your class data now so that if OFSTED call you have a few less things to worry about.
-Plan normal lessons that you will feel comfortable delivering. Don't be flashy, that's not what they're looking for.
-Think about the hinge points in your lesson and how you're going to handle them. Think: what if they all get it/none of them gets it/half get it etc.
-Put a set of well-marked books near the place they're going to sit. I had some (about 5) full-up books from a good class that I deliberately put near an empty desk. I removed the books that were messy or marked badly. I noticed afterwards that the pile was in a different order so they must have been looked at. If your class is using their books the inspector can't really examine them much.
-I don't know if this is a good tip but when I got my class to traffic light I told them to turn around and show "our visitor" their colour too. I thought this would be helpful for their observation and I think they appreciated it but who knows.
-Brief your class beforehand. Mine were amazing, they really tried to look engaged and clever. One pupil called me over and whispered "Miss, he's standing behind me, ask me a really good question". Isn't that great?
Obviously the main thing is not to panic, but I think that's a useless bit of advice because you're either born a panicker or a non-panicker (like me). Remember there is no failure, only feedback. Even if you get rated "inadequate" (hate that word), you will get lots of useful feedback from it.
By the way, I was rated Satisfactory with Good features. That's an improvement on my last observation, so I'm happy. Also, it looks good because the inspectors will see that the school has rated me Satisfactory, so by beating that score, I validate the school's observation records. It's like moderating coursework: if the examiner thinks you've marked a piece of coursework too low, they raise all of your class's marks. So don't worry about getting Outstanding, just try to beat the score you have on record.
Good luck to anyone facing OFSTED this term. I found it a very positive experience overall, and I'm not just saying that.
Emma x x x
*I used to do this when I was at school. I still remember most of my form group's birthdays, or at least their star signs.
Tuesday, 17 January 2012
Satisfactory is Not Good Enough
I have just read a news article from the BBC which has made me rage. (link)
So they're planning to change the "Satisfactory" label to "Requires Improvement". Hmm.
I've had a few discussions with fellow teachers on why we shouldn't use the word "satisfactory". It sounds too insulting. Saying someone is a satsfactory teacher sounds a bit negative, even though the underlying implication is that the teacher is good enough, doing fine, performing as required, no need to worry. A better word might be "fine" or "ok".
But instead of changing satisfactory to a word with fewer negative connotations, they've made it worse! "Requires improvement". How dare they? If you are satisfactory, you do not require improvement. The definition of satisfactory is "Fulfilling expectations or needs; acceptable, though not outstanding or perfect." (thanks dictionary.com). If you require improvements, then surely you are not satisfactory? But Cameron has decided "just good enough is, frankly, not good enough". RAGE.
So basically you're moving the goalposts so that "Good" now means "Satisfactory" (and is hence no longer a compliment), and anything below that is bad. How incredibly demoralising. Is that what you want, Mr Gove?*
Obviously all teachers should be striving to improve, and observations help us to be reflective practitioners and develop our weaknesses. But telling us we're not good enough (when actually we are adequate) is demotivating and also just mean.
Teachers really don't get praised enough. We get better and better GCSE and A Level results every year, and you never hear anyone saying, "wow, teachers have done really well for us this year, the future of society is looking good thanks to our fine teachers". No, you hear "exams are getting easier" and "it's because teachers are teaching to the test, not teaching proper understanding". We never win.
You know what's going to happen next, don't you? "Good" become "requires improvement" and the only acceptable standard will be "Outstanding". More and more teachers will leave the profession for a job where you get the occasional pat on the back. Good graduates won't want to train as teachers when they could have cushy office jobs. We'll have a shortage, and then what?
On a more rational note, don't you think that "requires support" is a much nicer alternative to "requires improvement"? It puts the onus on the school leadership team to help the teacher improve, rather than the teacher (who is probably doing the best they can). One better would be to make it "would benefit from extra support" but that's a bit wordy. I just don't like that word "requires". It sort of implies an "...or else".
Anyway, this has been way too wordy, sorry about that. I'm just a little bit cheesed off.
I hope you all have a good week (because anything less than good would be unsatisfactory, obviously).
Emma x x x
*I realise this is not directly Mr Gove's initiative, but still.
PS I had to google to make sure Gove is the education guy, because I wasn't entirely sure. I fail politics forever.
So they're planning to change the "Satisfactory" label to "Requires Improvement". Hmm.
I've had a few discussions with fellow teachers on why we shouldn't use the word "satisfactory". It sounds too insulting. Saying someone is a satsfactory teacher sounds a bit negative, even though the underlying implication is that the teacher is good enough, doing fine, performing as required, no need to worry. A better word might be "fine" or "ok".
But instead of changing satisfactory to a word with fewer negative connotations, they've made it worse! "Requires improvement". How dare they? If you are satisfactory, you do not require improvement. The definition of satisfactory is "Fulfilling expectations or needs; acceptable, though not outstanding or perfect." (thanks dictionary.com). If you require improvements, then surely you are not satisfactory? But Cameron has decided "just good enough is, frankly, not good enough". RAGE.
So basically you're moving the goalposts so that "Good" now means "Satisfactory" (and is hence no longer a compliment), and anything below that is bad. How incredibly demoralising. Is that what you want, Mr Gove?*
Obviously all teachers should be striving to improve, and observations help us to be reflective practitioners and develop our weaknesses. But telling us we're not good enough (when actually we are adequate) is demotivating and also just mean.
Teachers really don't get praised enough. We get better and better GCSE and A Level results every year, and you never hear anyone saying, "wow, teachers have done really well for us this year, the future of society is looking good thanks to our fine teachers". No, you hear "exams are getting easier" and "it's because teachers are teaching to the test, not teaching proper understanding". We never win.
You know what's going to happen next, don't you? "Good" become "requires improvement" and the only acceptable standard will be "Outstanding". More and more teachers will leave the profession for a job where you get the occasional pat on the back. Good graduates won't want to train as teachers when they could have cushy office jobs. We'll have a shortage, and then what?
On a more rational note, don't you think that "requires support" is a much nicer alternative to "requires improvement"? It puts the onus on the school leadership team to help the teacher improve, rather than the teacher (who is probably doing the best they can). One better would be to make it "would benefit from extra support" but that's a bit wordy. I just don't like that word "requires". It sort of implies an "...or else".
Anyway, this has been way too wordy, sorry about that. I'm just a little bit cheesed off.
I hope you all have a good week (because anything less than good would be unsatisfactory, obviously).
Emma x x x
*I realise this is not directly Mr Gove's initiative, but still.
PS I had to google to make sure Gove is the education guy, because I wasn't entirely sure. I fail politics forever.
Saturday, 7 January 2012
Using Drama in Maths Lessons: QVC
I thought I'd already blogged about this before on NQTpi, but apparently not, it's just on my old blog.
A few weeks ago at my academy we had a "No Pen Day". The idea was the whole week was focused on SEN, in particular communication difficulties. No Pen Day was supposed to encourage pupils to use verbal communication skills: speaking, explaining, reading, debating, listening, and responding. I had year nine for a double lesson on that day, so I had to plan lots of activities that involved no writing, and focused on speaking and listening.
One of the activities I planned was one of the aces up my sleeve: my QVC script which me and my friends wrote during our PGCE. Credit must go to a certain educational expert, initials RWP (I can't write his full name because when he does one of his regular self-googles he will complain that one of the first results is my blog. He has complained before), for inventing this activity and telling us about it. Credit also has to go to my fellow script-writers Lydia, Giulian, Charlie, Naresh and Paul. Thanks guys!
Anyway, the activity is this:
L.O. To learn about properties of shapes, to be able to communicate maths orally, to be able to work collaboratively.
Students should be in groups of about 4 or 5. You can give each group a shape or you can get the students to choose their own. Students must research the special properties of their shape (lines of symmetry, parallel lines, etc) and produce a QVC (home shopping channel) style advert as if they were selling that shape as a product.
After researching and then writing the script and rehearsing, the students perform their adverts one group at a time. After each one, discuss the properties that were mentioned, and also discuss how effectively the group communicated the information.
If your class is a bit shy and a bit unsure of what to do, it helps to start off by modelling a good advert by performing one yourself. Choose some students who are confident readers and give them a script similar to the one below. Read the part of "Emma" yourself (change the name if you like!) and try to make it as hammy as possible to encourage the students.
Tried and Tested
As I said earlier, I have done this exact activity with my year nine set one class and they enjoyed it. They found the initial performance funny and were engaged in writing their own scripts. However when it came to performing they were laughing too much to be understood. I should have allowed more preparing and rehearsing time. I think this is an activity for a double lesson really.
The Original Script
by Me, Lydia, Giulian, Charlie, Naresh and Paul
Emma: (In obnoxiously cheerful voice) Hello everybody! Today we’ve got some fabulous products for you which I’m really excited about. Our first product today is the Square, which is available at Today’s Special Value price of £17.99. Now I’m joined by Paul today who’s going to tell you a little bit more about the Square. So Paul, what’s so special about the Square?
Paul: Well Emma, I would say that the Square is really the Obama or the Ed Milliband of the shape world, because it’s all about equality. You see each side of a square is equal.
Emma: Are you saying each side is exactly the same length? That’s amazing!
Paul: Yes Emma, they are exactly equal. And that’s not all, all four angles in the Square are also exactly equal.
Emma: Unbelievable! And what angle is that?
Paul: Well I’ll tell you this Emma, (chuckles) none of them are wrong!
Entire group laughs in that horribly fake way QVC presenters do
Emma: Well that is truly outstanding, and don’t forget today you can buy the Square for just £17.99. Now Charlie, can you tell me any of the other features of the square?
Charlie: Well Emma, you might not know this but the Square actually has a lot of symmetry (folds the square in several ways) it has not one, not two…
Emma: no, surely not three!
Charlie: …three, four lines of symmetry!
Emma: Four lines of symmetry for only £17.99!
Charlie: But wait, there’s more! Not only does it have reflectional symmetry, it also has rotational symmetry! (Demonstrates)
Paul: What a truly outstanding product the square is! I wonder, Naresh, do you know of any famous places that are named after the Square?
Naresh: Yes, in fact there are many places named after the Square! There’s Leicester Square, where people have some really good parties, none of which would be possible with out the Square. There’s Trafalgar Square (holds up picture of pigeon with Nelson’s column in the background) where there are giant pigeons and no people… There’s also St Peter’s square, which is where the Pope goes.
Emma: So are you saying that the square has religious benefits too? And that in fact by buying the square you are actually getting closer to God? And that by paying just £17.99 you can guarantee yourself a place in heaven?
Naresh: That’s exactly what I’m saying Emma. But if you’re not religious, there’s also Red Square…
Emma: Now tell me Lydia, are there any other uses for the Square?
Lydia: Yes Emma, if you purchase 64 Squares you can put them together as shown (holds up picture) and make yourself a chessboard!
Emma: So you can actually make yourself a game! And all for just £17.99 times 64! Which I can’t work out…
Paul: Emma, I don’t need to work it out to know it’s a bargain!
Lydia: And you can also use lots of the squares put together to tile your bathroom floor!
Paul: So there’ll be no more urinating on carpets, which means a much more hygienic bathroom!
Emma: In fact, the Square is so much more hygienic, you could probably throw away all your other cleaning products. I am giving you the chance to revolutionise your entire cleaning routine from just £17.99!
Lydia: Giulian has some other ideas for what you can do with Squares.
Giulian: (shaking with uncontrollable laughter, having still not recovered from Paul’s urinating comment) you can buy six squares and put them together as a cube, taking you into the fabulous third dimension, for when two dimensions are just not enough!
Emma: Call the number on the bottom of your screen if you’d like to buy the Square for today’s Special Value Price of just £17.99.
*********************************************************************
You should probably adapt the script to suit the age and ability of your class. Also you should remove any lines you find particularly offensive. I removed the bit about urinating, for example.
A variation on the QVC advert is to do an episode of Crimewatch, where you describe the shape as if it's a wanted criminal. Another group did that on our PGCE and it was hilarious.
Please use this activity and let me know how it goes! Pass the link to this page on to other teachers so they can read it and think about using it too. I would appreciate the extra traffic on my little ol' blog :) .
Emma x x x
A few weeks ago at my academy we had a "No Pen Day". The idea was the whole week was focused on SEN, in particular communication difficulties. No Pen Day was supposed to encourage pupils to use verbal communication skills: speaking, explaining, reading, debating, listening, and responding. I had year nine for a double lesson on that day, so I had to plan lots of activities that involved no writing, and focused on speaking and listening.
One of the activities I planned was one of the aces up my sleeve: my QVC script which me and my friends wrote during our PGCE. Credit must go to a certain educational expert, initials RWP (I can't write his full name because when he does one of his regular self-googles he will complain that one of the first results is my blog. He has complained before), for inventing this activity and telling us about it. Credit also has to go to my fellow script-writers Lydia, Giulian, Charlie, Naresh and Paul. Thanks guys!
Anyway, the activity is this:
L.O. To learn about properties of shapes, to be able to communicate maths orally, to be able to work collaboratively.
Students should be in groups of about 4 or 5. You can give each group a shape or you can get the students to choose their own. Students must research the special properties of their shape (lines of symmetry, parallel lines, etc) and produce a QVC (home shopping channel) style advert as if they were selling that shape as a product.
After researching and then writing the script and rehearsing, the students perform their adverts one group at a time. After each one, discuss the properties that were mentioned, and also discuss how effectively the group communicated the information.
If your class is a bit shy and a bit unsure of what to do, it helps to start off by modelling a good advert by performing one yourself. Choose some students who are confident readers and give them a script similar to the one below. Read the part of "Emma" yourself (change the name if you like!) and try to make it as hammy as possible to encourage the students.
Tried and Tested
As I said earlier, I have done this exact activity with my year nine set one class and they enjoyed it. They found the initial performance funny and were engaged in writing their own scripts. However when it came to performing they were laughing too much to be understood. I should have allowed more preparing and rehearsing time. I think this is an activity for a double lesson really.
The Original Script
by Me, Lydia, Giulian, Charlie, Naresh and Paul
Emma: (In obnoxiously cheerful voice) Hello everybody! Today we’ve got some fabulous products for you which I’m really excited about. Our first product today is the Square, which is available at Today’s Special Value price of £17.99. Now I’m joined by Paul today who’s going to tell you a little bit more about the Square. So Paul, what’s so special about the Square?
Paul: Well Emma, I would say that the Square is really the Obama or the Ed Milliband of the shape world, because it’s all about equality. You see each side of a square is equal.
Emma: Are you saying each side is exactly the same length? That’s amazing!
Paul: Yes Emma, they are exactly equal. And that’s not all, all four angles in the Square are also exactly equal.
Emma: Unbelievable! And what angle is that?
Paul: Well I’ll tell you this Emma, (chuckles) none of them are wrong!
Entire group laughs in that horribly fake way QVC presenters do
Emma: Well that is truly outstanding, and don’t forget today you can buy the Square for just £17.99. Now Charlie, can you tell me any of the other features of the square?
Charlie: Well Emma, you might not know this but the Square actually has a lot of symmetry (folds the square in several ways) it has not one, not two…
Emma: no, surely not three!
Charlie: …three, four lines of symmetry!
Emma: Four lines of symmetry for only £17.99!
Charlie: But wait, there’s more! Not only does it have reflectional symmetry, it also has rotational symmetry! (Demonstrates)
Paul: What a truly outstanding product the square is! I wonder, Naresh, do you know of any famous places that are named after the Square?
Naresh: Yes, in fact there are many places named after the Square! There’s Leicester Square, where people have some really good parties, none of which would be possible with out the Square. There’s Trafalgar Square (holds up picture of pigeon with Nelson’s column in the background) where there are giant pigeons and no people… There’s also St Peter’s square, which is where the Pope goes.
Emma: So are you saying that the square has religious benefits too? And that in fact by buying the square you are actually getting closer to God? And that by paying just £17.99 you can guarantee yourself a place in heaven?
Naresh: That’s exactly what I’m saying Emma. But if you’re not religious, there’s also Red Square…
Emma: Now tell me Lydia, are there any other uses for the Square?
Lydia: Yes Emma, if you purchase 64 Squares you can put them together as shown (holds up picture) and make yourself a chessboard!
Emma: So you can actually make yourself a game! And all for just £17.99 times 64! Which I can’t work out…
Paul: Emma, I don’t need to work it out to know it’s a bargain!
Lydia: And you can also use lots of the squares put together to tile your bathroom floor!
Paul: So there’ll be no more urinating on carpets, which means a much more hygienic bathroom!
Emma: In fact, the Square is so much more hygienic, you could probably throw away all your other cleaning products. I am giving you the chance to revolutionise your entire cleaning routine from just £17.99!
Lydia: Giulian has some other ideas for what you can do with Squares.
Giulian: (shaking with uncontrollable laughter, having still not recovered from Paul’s urinating comment) you can buy six squares and put them together as a cube, taking you into the fabulous third dimension, for when two dimensions are just not enough!
Emma: Call the number on the bottom of your screen if you’d like to buy the Square for today’s Special Value Price of just £17.99.
*********************************************************************
You should probably adapt the script to suit the age and ability of your class. Also you should remove any lines you find particularly offensive. I removed the bit about urinating, for example.
A variation on the QVC advert is to do an episode of Crimewatch, where you describe the shape as if it's a wanted criminal. Another group did that on our PGCE and it was hilarious.
Please use this activity and let me know how it goes! Pass the link to this page on to other teachers so they can read it and think about using it too. I would appreciate the extra traffic on my little ol' blog :) .
Emma x x x
Sunday, 27 November 2011
Being a Postman
Last Tuesday me and my colleagues had a very interesting conversation. Me and another NQT were talking about the heavy workload and how we never manage to get everything we need to done. As soon as we feel on top of everything, we find out there's something else that we should have been doing all along but haven't (like emailing TAs with lesson plans and instructions. Whoops.).
We were hoping for the more experienced teachers to reassure us that after n years (where n is nice low number) you stop feeling like that and the workload becomes a doddle. To our despair, that's not what we were told.
My head of department (and mentor) raised an interesting point: that as teachers, we wish away our present and live in the future. We tell ourselves that at the weekend we'll have more time so we'll finally be able to catch up with work. Then by the weekend there's too much work to do in the time we have. We tell ourselves that during half term we'll finally catch up and even get ahead, but again this fails. We wish away every day as we wait for the summer holidays: the only time a teacher can truly relax (but not for the whole six weeks, and with relaxation comes I-should-be-working guilt).
One of the most experienced teachers in the faculty admitted he sometimes dreams of being a postman. A postman has a bag of letters to deliver. When the last lettter has been delivered, his job is done. He knows it's done because there are no letters left. He can draw a line under the working day. He then goes home and spends the rest of the day however he likes. He does not worry about tomorrow's bag of letters. He does not have to prepare anything for tomorrow's circuit. He doesn't have the pressure that a letter he delivered badly today may ruin tomorrow's delivery. He can't be held accountable for any letters' futures.
It's tempting, isn't it?
I asked him why he doesn't become a postman. They get paid less than teachers, but it's enough to live off. He thought about it for a second, and then simply said, "I just couldn't. I'm a teacher".
I thought of all the hundreds of jobs I could do instead of teaching. Some better paid, some worse, mostly shorter hours, but some with longer. I thought of having a job with no "homework", a job where you're not emotionally invested. I thought about jobs where you shut down your computer at 5pm, pick up your coat and you're instantly free until 9am the next day. And what conclusion did I come to?
I just couldn't. I'm a teacher.
Emma x x x
We were hoping for the more experienced teachers to reassure us that after n years (where n is nice low number) you stop feeling like that and the workload becomes a doddle. To our despair, that's not what we were told.
My head of department (and mentor) raised an interesting point: that as teachers, we wish away our present and live in the future. We tell ourselves that at the weekend we'll have more time so we'll finally be able to catch up with work. Then by the weekend there's too much work to do in the time we have. We tell ourselves that during half term we'll finally catch up and even get ahead, but again this fails. We wish away every day as we wait for the summer holidays: the only time a teacher can truly relax (but not for the whole six weeks, and with relaxation comes I-should-be-working guilt).
One of the most experienced teachers in the faculty admitted he sometimes dreams of being a postman. A postman has a bag of letters to deliver. When the last lettter has been delivered, his job is done. He knows it's done because there are no letters left. He can draw a line under the working day. He then goes home and spends the rest of the day however he likes. He does not worry about tomorrow's bag of letters. He does not have to prepare anything for tomorrow's circuit. He doesn't have the pressure that a letter he delivered badly today may ruin tomorrow's delivery. He can't be held accountable for any letters' futures.
It's tempting, isn't it?
I asked him why he doesn't become a postman. They get paid less than teachers, but it's enough to live off. He thought about it for a second, and then simply said, "I just couldn't. I'm a teacher".
I thought of all the hundreds of jobs I could do instead of teaching. Some better paid, some worse, mostly shorter hours, but some with longer. I thought of having a job with no "homework", a job where you're not emotionally invested. I thought about jobs where you shut down your computer at 5pm, pick up your coat and you're instantly free until 9am the next day. And what conclusion did I come to?
I just couldn't. I'm a teacher.
Emma x x x
Sunday, 20 November 2011
The End of Starters
All of my lessons start in exactly the same way: the date, title, learning objective and starter are projected onto the IWB, the pupils copy them down and then do the starter. They know this is the routine, by now they don't need to be told.
Sounds brilliant doesn't it? You might even be jealous that I have such a wonderful and consistent system. One of my colleagues and fellow-NQT sometimes admits to me guiltily that she sometimes doesn't do a starter. She beats herself up about it, thinking she must be a failure because we all know that for a lesson to even be satisfactory, there HAS to be a starter on the board the second the bell goes. To skip the starter altogether is surely the number one teaching sin.
I discovered this week that that's a complete load of rubbish.
This fortnight at my academy is one of the most stressful for teachers: observation time! The academy leadership team have given all of us a two-day window in which any one of our lessons could be formally observed and graded. Mine has been and gone, with little stress, but for some the pressure still looms. The atmosphere in the maths faculty office has been somewhat more tense than normal. As an NQT, I'm used to being observed regularly, and I'm also used to being told I'm doing stuff wrong, so I wasn't particularly worried. But for the best teachers, it can be very stressful.
My observation went fairly well. My pupils were well behaved and on task. We were doing about answering wordy maths questions, which is a key focus for our faculty due to the crazy new-style exams. The feedback I got after the lesson was out-of-this-world amazingly useful. The senior teacher gave me so many ideas which I know are tried and tested and easy to implement and will probably work. None of this rubbish making me come up with ideas, she actually told me what to do. Although in doing so I also came up with my own ideas. Now that's good teaching!
One of the things that I realised in dissecting the lesson (although it wasn't commented on until I brought it up myself) was how ineffective my start of lesson routine is. I had assumed that what I was doing was 100% the perfect thing. I had always been told the pupils should have something to do the second they come in, so they can start as soon as they're ready without waiting for other pupils to come in and unpack. I don't know whose stupid idea this was but I've realised now it doesn't actually work or make sense!
My pupils know that when they come in they have to write down the date, title and LO and do the starter, but they do so at their own leisurely pace. They start it when they're ready, which for some means as soon as they're unpacked, for others means after they've talked to the person behind them about the match last night. There's no clear start to the lesson, it just start of gradually blends into existence. After I think 90% of pupils have finished the starter, I begin the "actual" lesson. This can sometimes take 10-15 minutes, and most of the time the pupils have learnt nothing. How pointless!
Consider this method instead (often used by my aforementioned colleague, who feels guilty about it): the pupls come in, there is the LO on the board which they can start to copy. As soon as every present pupil's bum is on a seat, the teacher instructs the class to turn to their homework. The answers are then discussed, and some probing questions are asked and answered. Any late pupils realise they are late because the teacher is at the front talking and the class is quiet. They must walk to their seats quietly and shame-faced. Pupils always do their homework because if they don't they won't be able to participate in the first 10 minutes of the lesson. The activity you would normally do as a starter is then done afterwards, but the teacher can actually explain how to do it verbally rather than having to explain it in three lines on a PowerPoint slide.
Can you see immediately how much better that would be? The only barrier would be the pupils arriving in dribs and drabs. I say wait until 50% of the class is there and then start. As the pupils get used to this, I bet lateness would decrease. If you have the corridor space, you could have the pupils line up outside and that would solve the problem too.
From now on this is how all of my lessons are going to start. It will encourage me to remember to set homework every lesson (as is my academy's policy, and most schools' policies these days) and should also improve homework completion. It will also save me marking homework. But most of all, it will give my lessons a much more purposeful and swift start, setting the pace for the rest of the lesson.
What are your thoughts on starters? Do you find them useful? Necessary? How do you use them?
And to anyone with observations looming: remember this is a brilliant opportunity to realise things about your teaching and lesson structure that you weren't aware of. It has helped me immensely.
Emma x x x
Sounds brilliant doesn't it? You might even be jealous that I have such a wonderful and consistent system. One of my colleagues and fellow-NQT sometimes admits to me guiltily that she sometimes doesn't do a starter. She beats herself up about it, thinking she must be a failure because we all know that for a lesson to even be satisfactory, there HAS to be a starter on the board the second the bell goes. To skip the starter altogether is surely the number one teaching sin.
I discovered this week that that's a complete load of rubbish.
This fortnight at my academy is one of the most stressful for teachers: observation time! The academy leadership team have given all of us a two-day window in which any one of our lessons could be formally observed and graded. Mine has been and gone, with little stress, but for some the pressure still looms. The atmosphere in the maths faculty office has been somewhat more tense than normal. As an NQT, I'm used to being observed regularly, and I'm also used to being told I'm doing stuff wrong, so I wasn't particularly worried. But for the best teachers, it can be very stressful.
My observation went fairly well. My pupils were well behaved and on task. We were doing about answering wordy maths questions, which is a key focus for our faculty due to the crazy new-style exams. The feedback I got after the lesson was out-of-this-world amazingly useful. The senior teacher gave me so many ideas which I know are tried and tested and easy to implement and will probably work. None of this rubbish making me come up with ideas, she actually told me what to do. Although in doing so I also came up with my own ideas. Now that's good teaching!
One of the things that I realised in dissecting the lesson (although it wasn't commented on until I brought it up myself) was how ineffective my start of lesson routine is. I had assumed that what I was doing was 100% the perfect thing. I had always been told the pupils should have something to do the second they come in, so they can start as soon as they're ready without waiting for other pupils to come in and unpack. I don't know whose stupid idea this was but I've realised now it doesn't actually work or make sense!
My pupils know that when they come in they have to write down the date, title and LO and do the starter, but they do so at their own leisurely pace. They start it when they're ready, which for some means as soon as they're unpacked, for others means after they've talked to the person behind them about the match last night. There's no clear start to the lesson, it just start of gradually blends into existence. After I think 90% of pupils have finished the starter, I begin the "actual" lesson. This can sometimes take 10-15 minutes, and most of the time the pupils have learnt nothing. How pointless!
Consider this method instead (often used by my aforementioned colleague, who feels guilty about it): the pupls come in, there is the LO on the board which they can start to copy. As soon as every present pupil's bum is on a seat, the teacher instructs the class to turn to their homework. The answers are then discussed, and some probing questions are asked and answered. Any late pupils realise they are late because the teacher is at the front talking and the class is quiet. They must walk to their seats quietly and shame-faced. Pupils always do their homework because if they don't they won't be able to participate in the first 10 minutes of the lesson. The activity you would normally do as a starter is then done afterwards, but the teacher can actually explain how to do it verbally rather than having to explain it in three lines on a PowerPoint slide.
Can you see immediately how much better that would be? The only barrier would be the pupils arriving in dribs and drabs. I say wait until 50% of the class is there and then start. As the pupils get used to this, I bet lateness would decrease. If you have the corridor space, you could have the pupils line up outside and that would solve the problem too.
From now on this is how all of my lessons are going to start. It will encourage me to remember to set homework every lesson (as is my academy's policy, and most schools' policies these days) and should also improve homework completion. It will also save me marking homework. But most of all, it will give my lessons a much more purposeful and swift start, setting the pace for the rest of the lesson.
What are your thoughts on starters? Do you find them useful? Necessary? How do you use them?
And to anyone with observations looming: remember this is a brilliant opportunity to realise things about your teaching and lesson structure that you weren't aware of. It has helped me immensely.
Emma x x x
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