I am an Early Years teacher by profession. I am qualified to teach up to 13 year olds, but would not dare to enter a classroom of 12 year olds on my own. I know how stroppy they can be.
This week I offered to baby-sit a class of 7-9 year olds. An age group outside my comfort zone, but it was an emergency situation and I did not want them to miss yet another day's education or for their parents to miss a day's wages. I would not teach anything from the curriculum, but I would keep them safely entertained. No times tables, no spelling, no grammar, no formal maths or science, no DT or history or geography. We would have a morning of fun.
What does a morning of fun at short notice look like?
I took in a selection of classic board games (chess, draughts, dominoes, snakes and ladders, Beetle, 4 in a row, Jenga), and dug out a couple of construction sets. At the last moment I spotted a model bell that I had borrowed for a tower tour sitting in my hallway, so put that in the bag together with some kids' handbells and music and some sheets naming the parts and fittings of a bell. What would grab their attention?
The children could not believe their luck. A morning to play? No spellings? No multiplication practice? No seats in rows or silent concentration? Play with what is available, the only restriction being no computers and please talk to each other, win with grace, lose with good humour and do not leave any one out.
We had an absolutely delightful morning. The children appreciated that this was a one-morning-only treat and did not waste it on squabbles or sulks. They moved between games and activities, won and lost with smiles, changed opponents, taught each other new games, collaborated with the construction and no-one touched an i-pad other than to record their models.
At the end we discussed what we had learned. Probability featured highly – that need to throw a 1 to start the game of Beetle was noted. What is the chance of that happening? What if I tossed a coin – what is the chance of heads? We had problem solved, worked in teams, read and understood instructions, taught our peers games such as draughts and dominoes. One girl had investigated cogs and others had developed complicated stories around their models– stories which they shared verbally but no one asked them to write anything down and then corrected their spelling or grammar. They wanted to introduce an element of competition so held a vote for the class's favourite model. An opportunity to discuss voting, fairness and accepting a majority decision even when you are personally disappointed not to win. One individual who does not shine in the classroom, wowed us with her grasp of chess, another, a Ukrainian refugee, proved himself to be a superior strategist when it came to dominoes.
The whole was accompanied by the soundtrack of handbells – tinkling away, giggling children when they muddled their right and left hands, the encouragement of a juvenile conductor to try again. They were so enthusiastic that one bell became detached from its handle. We also extended our vocabulary – it now includes "gudgeon" " headstock" and "soundbow". The model bell proved a hit and the children have requested a visit to the tower to see the real things.
A very satisfactory outcome and a real privilege to have the opportunity to interact with such receptive children and to be able to share my own enthusiasm and love of learning in such a relaxed and positive environment.
I know that schools are under pressure to perform and to prove how well they are doing. I appreciate that some objective measure of children's progress is necessary and that SATs and public tests hang over teachers like a sword. If the scores drop there are all sorts of implications. You can not allow scores to drop. But yet, childhood is so short. How often do the kids get the chance to just hang out, to organise their own learning, and to develop their emotional intelligence? Not everyone enjoys the sort of family where the chess set is pulled out after a shared tea, or a game of cards is considered adequate entertainment. Not every child is exposed to the joys of bell ringing at an impressionable age.
More emergency cover days required so that I can get round the entire school. Schools could be fertile grounds for future recruits. Sow the seeds, provide a little sun and water and hope that they will grow. There must be the Reedham band of 2030 in those ranks, if only we can identify them and draw them out.
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