You all know I love my job, and I try not to blog about it too much, but this week has filled my tiny brain full of thoughts and anecdotes.

Last week I spent a lot of my free periods dealing with 2 mums who were aghast at my treatment of their precious sons.  Yes, I had written in their diaries and asked them to apologise to the class for their disruptive behaviour.  What shocked me most, was the automatic assumption that their sons were telling the whole truth; were angels in class; and were being picked on by a nasty teacher (who by the way isn’t doing anything to help their sons’ supposed dyslexia).  This led me to worry about my future interactions with the boys’ teachers – will I turn into that parent?

A boy from the same class made me simultaneously incredulous, depressed and slightly pleased.  Following my focus on Obama’s victory speech last week some of my pupils have become quite interested in current affairs, and they’re mentioning news items much more than before.  All very good, and may help to lessen the insularity prevalent in much of the area.  Then the incorrigible MP asked me if it was true the White House was going to be painted brown when Obama took over, because it was only white before to match the previous Presidents.  He refused to believe me when I swiftly rejected his suggestion, and asked me again the next day.

How can you break through with children like that?  How can we teach them when they lack so much common sense?  I love teaching my subject (even Grammar sometimes) but it can be disheartening too.  The final “I don’t know whether to laugh or cry” moment came when the Head of Sixth Year showed me some UCAS personal statements.  One boy, who happens to be in my A level English class, had written ‘I am mentally challenged’ in his conclusion.  When questioned, he admitted he didn’t know what it meant but thought it sounded good!

It’s not all depressing though; the bane of my Year 12 class got a wake-up call this week and was quite emotional as I chastised him, bringing coursework unprompted the next day.  Another Year 12 boy shocked me by discussing Friar Lawrence and Act 3:5 of R&J with great insight for half an hour – his best ever Talking and Listening mark.  

Then I read their ‘All about me’ essays, and realised that this time next year at least 2 of my Year 12 boys (one of whom refuses to use punctuation) will be soldiers.  I know Shakespeare seems a waste of time to them; but I love seeing them discuss the themes, relationships and plot twists, and slowly realise it is actually relevant.  I’m determined to have them leave my class better able to make sense of the world around them, and communicate effectively – it may save their lives.