Good with a capital G
Thursday, May 27th, 2010
Today was not a Good day, for several reasons, but mainly because I had to discipline a teacher, and put them on a monitored teaching scheme to make sure their lessons were up to scratch. I hate doing this; sometimes I just want to go into the classroom, bore the kids with some dry Shakespeare history play and then go home.
But I am the head of English, and I do actually care that our teaching is Good. Yes that’s Good with a capital G. Ofsted Good, as it were. The ‘sted are due any minute now, and the school is going for Good status. I think we should get it, and actually seeing everyone in the school working towards Good status has (dare I say it) ‘raised standards’.
But for the English and Maths departments the pressure is oh so much higher; the big drive now is 5 A-Cs including English and Maths; because these are considered Good GCSEs, so we have to make sure ALL our pupils have the best teaching possible. And, there’s that word again. Good. It’s really quite an arbitrary way to measure something, if you think about it; I mean Kit Kats are Good, beating Arsenal is Good; a lie in is Good. But, can teaching standards and subjects merely be called ‘Good’? And how on earth can you really measure it? I know Ofsted have a criteria, but does it really mean something is actually Good, or is it just their way of judging everyone?

I am very proud of the amount of useless facts that I know. Put me in front of an episode of QI or a pub quiz and I’m in heaven. So, last week when a student asked me about the longest English word in class I rattled off a long answer about how there are some chemical names that are more than 1000 letters long but the longest word in the OED is ‘Floccinaucinihilipilification’.
I am concerned about sex education. From a distance, because obviously I’m not involved in delivering it. Well, I wasn’t until some bright spark thought up SEAL. (Seriously, who names an important bit of legislative agenda after a fat, blubbery sea animal that claps its fins together and makes comedy honking noises? Really, who? I’d like to know.)
Every day so far this week, students have been asking me to explain what a ‘hung’ parliament is, while trying to hold back fits of giggles.
These are without doubt exciting times. And you can feel the buzz all around the corridors at school. (Though there’s a good chance that might have more to do with some bad taste gossip concerning a certain physics teacher and his recently revealed predilection for recreating medieval battles in full traditional garb. I think a pupil even has a questioanable photo that seems to circulating via some form of social media…)
As the cloud of ash shot out into the sky from Eyjafjallajokull my inner geek shot out to catch it on the Internet and online volcano watching has consumed almost all my free time since the eruption.
I was late for my first class this morning, and when I got there I wasn’t exactly in a state to teach either. I didn’t have any handouts, and seriously, how can one possibly teach these days, without a handout? Thank god for the whiteboard; without it, and a motivational video that ran for half the lesson, I might have actually had to talk to the kids. Jeez.