out with the old, in with the new

Hi there viewers, a few words from the feminine side.

I finally went into my old school a couple of weeks ago to clear out my office and also to find out how my kids did in their GCSE results (equivalent to School C).

Music got the best results in the school! 88% got A-C passes. I taught 12 of the 26 students that sat music and they all got their goal grade. It was just a wonderful feeling after all the hard work and the trying to get students on the right track. (If you want to get a feel for what most London high school teacher's day is like, see this website: I was stunned that I had the same experiences—that there must be thousands of us out there dealing with the same inane stuff).

Anyway, I was particularly pleased with one student who needed a C for the college course he had enrolled in and had really flunked one of his assessments. He knew that he really had to pull out all the stops for the final exam. This senior music class was the only reason I stuck out being at Shene for the whole year—I just wanted to get them through—and I/we did! yay! thanks Lord.

And what a day I had today. Pheweee. The only bad thing about it was how long I had to wait for three out of my four buses.

Started off with a Year 5 class (8/9 year olds). Just plain nice and enthusiastic. One "different" child during the lesson asked if he could be an idol at which everyone made noises. He told us he meant the kind that has fire around it and people dance around it—weird! And here we were thinking something about pop idols! In his recorder lesson in the afternoon he got his instrument taken off him because he was flourishing the ends of pieces with 'delightful' squeaks on purpose. I think that was the only piece of active discipline I had to do all day.

Second lesson (these are all half hour lessons—not 50 minutes praise be) I went to see my Year 3 recorder class, told them about the exciting opportunity that they were about to embark on and gave out notices asking for £5 to be brought to school for a recorder. They were again polite and enthused.

Third lesson, I had the four and five year olds for hymn practice—"If I were a butterfly” and that was about all we could cope with. At the end of the lesson, one little sweet heart with golden braided Afro hair flashed me a big smile and gave my arm a little stroke as she filed out in her class line.

Next was morning tea and then whole school assembly where they all sat in silent rows and listened and prayed diligently. We then all sang “If I were a butterfly."

Lesson four, another Year 5 class. Bit more lively than the other. At the end of the lesson while we were waiting for their teacher to collect them I was asking them about songs they liked to sing. One boy named a couple of songs in some European language and the class were most intrigued. “They're operas” he said and everyone went “oh!” Then I said that they were in for a treat because opera was in our year plan for January and I am not kidding, there was a majority “yay!” response. Hayley fell to the floor coughing with laughter when I told this story. By this stage of the day I was starting to get into the whole primary school chant of “good morning class” etc. The response you get in unison at the end of the lesson is “good afternoon and thank you, Mrs Babbage.” And if that wasn't enough, one little girl as she was leaving said “you're a lovely teacher” and gave me a little hug.

Oh and did I mention the largest class I have is 17 children?

Then I had my lunch “hour” that lasts for 110 minutes and actually went to the staffrooooom—oh my goodness!

Finished the afternoon with my two Year 5 recorder sessions where it was a delight to see children excited over a tune with only three notes in it.

Classes finished at 3pm and then I started to journal the day and plan for Monday. No idea what I'm doing with the five year olds but I'll figure it out in the weekend. Left at 4pm (unheard of) to try and beat the rush hour bus problems—no luck. Including a slight detour to my new favourite shop the Manna Christian Centre, Streatham Hill, where I bought a card for my Mum and Dad, it took me 2 hours—but it is worth it don't you think.  : )