Why Making Sense Of Mock Results Isn’t Easy

Mock Exams

This article first appeared in HWRK Magazine in November 2021. You can read the article on the HWRK Magazine website here.

“Correlation is not causation”.

I’ve been thinking of using this as a mantra. Far too often, even those of us who are aware of its truth can fall prey to this logical trap. After all, how many times have you tried out a new teaching technique, with students seemingly succeeding as a result, only to find out later on that they only really made progress because of your newfound enthusiasm, rather than the clever new strategy you used?

The key question is, how do we separate the truth from the noise? We need to ask the same question about mock exam results.

As we move into “mock season”, we should be especially mindful of the correlation/causation problem. The whole point of Autumn mocks is to find out what students do or don’t know, what they can or can’t do and to work out what I need to do next, in response to their performance.

Making Valid Inferences is the name of this game and it’s a lot harder than it seems.

Just imagine this: a student answers a “describe” question with a one-line response, when they should be writing a detailed paragraph or two. What should we make of that as their teacher?

  • Have they misunderstood the amount of detail required?
  • Do they have gaps in knowledge?
  • Is their understanding accurate, but shallow?
  • Did they merely guess the answer correctly without actually knowing it?
  • Is their response just a regurgitation from a revision sheet?

Without an accurate answer to these questions (and more besides), our next move may not have any impact. So what should we do?

Well, let’s look at the responses from the whole class:

  • Do many other students struggle similarly on that question?
  • Are other students having issues with that same exam “skill”, e.g. do they evaluate instead of describe?
  • Did they all run out of time?

Or is it actually more complex than that?

Sometimes there’s a mixed response from different students across the class. Do students from one group perform better or worse than others? A change in seating arrangements might help. But then again, it might not.

Maybe it was the weather that day. Did a wasp fly into the room during your explanation? Were your students in a bit of a rush after being late from PE? Was there a funny smell from the farmer’s field next door that students kept getting distracted by? Did you (without a hint of irony) forget to set a recall homework task on the topic where they underperformed?

In other words, did the problem occur during the teaching, rather than during the exam?

A Question Level Analysis can be helpful, but it won’t always provide the answers that we as teachers need. A good QLA can still only give you a limited amount of information. The information you actually need often comes from your memory of teaching that topic at the time.

What was it that helped or hindered your teaching? This might be a resource issue, a timetabling one, a staffing conundrum, or something on a whole school level, largely beyond the control of the class teacher or Head of Department.

It might even be that your own knowledge just wasn’t strong enough on that topic. That’s an uncomfortable thought, isn’t it? Well, it shouldn’t be. And we can address it without stigma, shame or professional embarrassment. In fact, I’d argue that if we are teaching a challenging curriculum, then from time to time we should fully expect it and actually embrace it in our practice, both individually and as a department. Think back to when you taught that topic: how strong was your subject-knowledge? And are you the best judge of that?

To tackle post-mock issues then should be a collaborative effort, not siloed off for a Head of Department or a Key Stage Coordinator to deal with alone. As a departmental team, it is worth discussing not just “how well did they answer question 8”? but also “how well did we teach the students to be able to answer question 8?” By posing the question in this way, we are much less likely to make assumptions about the student’s answer and much more likely to find the true reason for their response. We should discuss and model our own in-class explanations, how we scaffold and how we assess as we teach, checking for misconceptions and encouraging detail and nuance in students’ responses.

Having these discussions also stops us from letting ourselves off the hook. Much of a student’s attainment is down to things that occur beyond the walls of our classrooms and this is why holding teachers solely accountable for exam results is highly problematic. But we are responsible for how we teach and this impacts student responses in exams in arguably the most significant way. If we have taught it well, the students will typically perform well in assessments.

There are schools across the country, whose cohorts are classed as “disadvantaged” in various ways, but who also routinely outperform other schools whose students “have it easier” (at least on paper). This comes down to the teaching.

As Dylan Wiliam puts it, “Every teacher needs to improve, not because they are not good enough, but because they can be even better.”

So, scrap “correlation is not causation”. My mantra should simply be “Keep improving my teaching”. Everything else is just noise.

You can read more posts like this in HWRK Magazine | The Essential Magazine For Teachers

On Routines, Running, Greasing the Wheels and (Crucially) Biscuits

man running on side of road

This article first appeared in the September 2021 Edition of HWRK Magazine.

I may not look like it, but I love running. When I’m at my “peak” fitness level (which is not only rare, but also far less impressive than it sounds) I’m able to get myself up at 5:30am, throw on my running gear and do a reasonable 5k. This lasts about two or three weeks, then I run out of steam. I make excuses to miss the odd day, which quickly spirals into a string of missed days. Right now, my non-running streak is at the several month mark. I desperately want to run though, so why on earth can’t I stick to my routine?

Well, I do have a theory. I can’t prove it, but whenever I tell someone, it seems to resonate with them. It’s got something to do with biscuits. 

My running “routine” (if you can call it that) involves a lot of thinking about not running, then talking myself into running, then forcing myself to actually do it. If there are any obstacles in my way, like having to do something else urgently (or even not urgently), or if I’ve had a heavy meal beforehand, or if I’m tired, then I justify to myself that I don’t need to do it this time. I’ll just do it tomorrow and everything will be fine.

But, it’s not fine and it gets much worse. My routine is easily destroyed if I do something simple, like eating a biscuit. This might seem like a small thing to you, but what eating a lovely little biscuit does is signal to me that “you know what? Running isn’t that important. You can just eat biscuits. Nobody will mind”. It’s a seductive voice. Think M&S Christmas food advert voice. In the end, the biscuit always wins and I’ve found the perfect excuse to stop running. If I’m eating biscuits, then I’m already not being healthy, so I might as well quit exercising too. Game Over.

What’s this got to do with teaching though? Well, in September, we all like to start with a clean slate and embed good habits and routines, both for ourselves and our students. These take a little getting used to, but with a bit of effort, they stick and after a couple of weeks, you might even think “I’ve nailed it”. Cue, the biscuits.

Once you think you’ve embedded your routines, like setting frequent retrieval tasks, enforcing a behaviour management strategy, or keeping on top of your emails, you will inevitably hit a point where you think, “I’ll just not do it this time. I’m… too busy. Plus, I’ve already stopped doing that other Very Important Thing that I was supposed to be doing. I’m only human and sometimes I need a break… That’s it, I deserve a break” But at this point in the year, it’s a trap. It’s the M&S Christmas food advert voice again. And it really isn’t on your side. 

Once you miss a day or two, or a week, or longer, your routine will naturally fall by the wayside. But worse, it will then be harder to resurrect it than it was to start it from scratch. It’s tainted by “failure” now. You’ve lost your streak. It doesn’t have that special shiny new object feel that it had, back in that first week in September, that felt so motivating.

Fear not though, there’s something I’ve found helpful in exactly this situation: Plan for the inevitable breakdown of your routine. 

Make a decision, ahead of time, about what steps you will take when your routine goes to pot. Think about how you’ll feel when it happens and also what your lack of routine will do to your day. Then, make a To Do List which deals with those issues. Keep it brief, actionable and realistic. Then have it ready for when the inevitable happens. You’ll thank yourself.

Tonight, before I wrote this, I enacted my own To Do List: I laid out my t-shirt, shorts, socks and trainers. I’ve set my alarm for 5:30am and, in a rare stroke of genius, I even set the timer for the coffee machine to come on. I am going to run. There’s nothing to get in my way. I’ve removed the metaphorical biscuits.

Then, tomorrow night, I’ll just lay out my gear again. It’s much easier to get back into my running routine (and stick to it) once I’ve greased the wheels a little by taking the effort out of the period where I’ll be at my most vulnerable to giving up, i.e. bleary-eyed at 5:30am. 

So, grease your wheels too. Automate and schedule your recall tasks in Google Classroom, Microsoft Teams, or whatever platform you use. Have a handy phrase that sums up the behaviour principle you need to keep remembering and repeating. Display it on your classroom wall so neither you nor the students can miss it. Set aside a time of day where you are undisturbed and ONLY allowed to deal with emails. Remove those biscuits.

But most importantly, when it goes wrong, just remember: If I can get back into running (and hopefully one day soon my favourite work trousers), then you can get back into your good routines. After all, you chose them for their usefulness in reducing your workload, or because they help students make more progress. They may even serve an important moral purpose. To thrive in this job, you need your good routines to stick and you really can do it. 

Best of luck (and don’t forget about the biscuits).

Read the latest edition of HWRK Magazine here!

Edu Book Review

Edu Book Review

This article first appeared in the Summer 2021 Edition of HWRK Magazine. You can read this article here. This article contains affiliate links.

With so many edu-books released this year, where should you begin? Here are three of the most impactful that I’ve read this year.

A new teaching book seems to be released every other week at the moment. Maybe that’s just because of all the free time teachers suddenly had during lockdown, since the schools were shut?

As if.

I still have no idea how some teachers find the time to write so much and so well. But with limited time to be able to devour all of these new books, where should you start? Here are three that I seriously recommend, both for the short-term impact in your classroom tomorrow, but also for the way in which they will help you to develop as a teacher over the long term.

Retrieval Practice 2: Implementing, Embedding & Reflecting by Kate Jones

If, like me, you want your students to be able to remember more of the curriculum that you teach, then this is an absolute must-read. Kate Jones has written extensively on the theme of retrieval practice (this being the sequel to her first book, Retrieval Practice: Research and Resources for Every Classroom). The book itself strikes a careful balance between what educational research can tell us and also what it can’t, alongside real-world examples from the classroom practice of teachers. This is where some pedagogical books go wrong, but where Retrieval Practice 2 excels. From the outset, the educational research is presented with clarity, for novices, but with further references for those who want to dive in even further. If retrieval practice is something you intend to focus on in your department or in your school, then there really is no better author that I would trust, to guide you along the way.

The Feedback Pendulum by Michael Chiles

Feedback is often misunderstood, conflated with marking and overly laborious. Michael Chiles aims to put an end to this in The Feedback Pendulum, which is his follow-up book to the also excellent C.R.A.F.T. of Assessment. In The Feedback Pendulum, Chiles takes us through not just how we could assess better, but also the wider issues that are sometimes overlooked. One such issue that Chiles deals with masterfully is the culture of assessment within schools and individual classrooms. Using Chiles’ advice, Middle and Senior Leaders can identify underlying problems across the school and with other stakeholders such as parents, that undermine attempts at effective assessment. Feedback is a highly complex concept and to do it well, you need to understand the nuances of it. This book is just that. Nuanced, practical and will stand the test of time.

Mentoring in Schools: How To Become An Expert Colleague by Haili Hughes

Haili Hughes has created an exceptionally useful guide to mentoring, in her book Mentoring In Schools. In fact, when I read it, I felt as though I was being mentored by Haili herself. The chapters are designed to fit with the Teachers’ Standards and so this gem of a book can be read from cover to cover (as I did), or you can dip in and out of the parts that are most relevant to you at the time, as a Mentor. What Haili does particularly well is to include not just her own extensive experience, but also that of others, including a wide range of voices. Those voices do not just offer insight, but they offer a breadth of practical strategies and questions to ponder. Reading this book will make you a better Mentor, that’s for certain. But it will probably make you a better teacher in general too, as many of the strategies discussed and the issues raised are as important for teaching pupils as they are for mentoring new teachers.

Remote Learning: Five Things We Should Keep Post-Covid

Remote Learning

This article was first published in May 2021 in Sec Ed. You can find the link to the original article here.

Since lockdown ended and we all returned to our classrooms, I have noticed that things are different. I did not expect them to remain completely the same, but what I have been surprised by is just how much my teaching has changed since March 2020.

During lockdown, I could not wait to leave it all behind and I counted the days until I could return to my physical classroom. I was particularly tired of looking at rows of initials instead of faces. But now I am back, I realise something: the technology that I have struggled with and the new strategies I have had to adopt will be sorely missed if we abandon them now. As much as I can’t stand the phrase…

…we’re in a ‘new normal’

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to get all misty-eyed about tech-filled 21st-century schools being some utopian wonderland. Fundamentally, I don’t think teaching and learning will change that much, no matter how much tech we throw at it.

What I do believe, however, is that we have crossed the Rubicon. We are not experts in it yet, but enough of us are now good enough at using certain technology for us to embed features of it into our permanent everyday practice.

The tech and strategies that will stand the test of time will be those that help to improve access and attainment for students, and which reduce workload for teachers.

With that said, here are a few of the remote learning strategies (and the tech that underpins them) that I believe are here to stay:

  • Self-marking quizzes.
  • Marking using comment banks.
  • Setting and collecting all classwork/homework assignments online.
  • Collaborative working, using shared docs.
  • The importance of making routines explicit.

Self-marking quizzes

Marking work is a repetitive and laborious exercise. Thankfully, it is something that does not necessarily have to be done by a human, at least, not in the traditional sense.

By designing multiple-choice quizzes, using software such as Google Forms, you can reclaim your time. Google Forms allows you to assign the requisite number of marks for each answer. But you can go much further than that, by setting out what feedback the student will receive when they answer correctly or incorrectly.

One of the most useful feedback tactics I have used is directing students to online videos of worked examples, or websites containing explanations of complex concepts. This takes the pressure off teachers to provide those same details themselves, especially if it relates to a common error.

A set of quizzes that might once have taken me two hours to mark, or which might have taken 20 minutes of my lesson when peer-assessed, now takes less than a minute, including the time it takes to record the results, as you can instantly import them into your spreadsheet.

Comment banks

We have found a way to streamline the feedback mechanism for longer and more complex answers. Platforms such as Google Classroom allow for the creation of comment banks. Teachers can use these by dragging and dropping the appropriate comment onto the required section of the page. By doing this, you avoid having to rewrite the same sort of comments over and over again when they are common to many pieces of work.

The positive impact on your time can be amplified further if you use comments that are particular to a specific exam skill that you give feedback on.

The comment bank can work for a broad range of questions of a particular style, rather than for only one specific question. For example, in a GCSE “describe” question, you can use the exam board descriptors as your comments, making them usable for all future “describe” questions, thereby cutting future workload beyond this one task you are marking.

In reality, you might only need to spend 30 minutes to create four brief comment banks for an entire GCSE course, if there are only four types of question on the exam. That is a lot of time saved, both in the short and long term.

Setting and collecting online work

Setting work for your class is usually straightforward. But having learning materials ready and available for students who are ill, isolating, or elsewhere has always been a pain point for teachers.

Students might not pick up the worksheet, or you might forget to send that email. By setting the work online, everyone can access it in both our classroom and at home.

However, what makes this even more valuable as a strategy, is that it prevents students from falling behind when they inevitably lose bits of their work during the year, reducing the potential for gaps in their folders and (by extension) their knowledge. Just direct your students to the section on Google Classroom, for example, and they will have everything they need.

Collaborative working

I have always found it difficult in my own lessons and for homework to get students to collaborate effectively on tasks. Even with the best will in the world, it can become a less effective use of time compared to working independently, especially if those collaborating are in different locations.

With the use of online software, students can both work on the same document at the same time, allowing one another to see what their peers are producing in real time.

This has been invaluable during lockdown, as one of the major drawbacks for students has been the anxiety produced by not knowing whether or not they are keeping pace with their peers. Collaboration using a Google Doc, for example, alongside a live video or text chat function, where students can discuss the work, allows them to create something as if they were side-by-side in the same room. They can “see” each other typing, allowing for a better connection between students working together.

Explicit routines

Our routines have changed. We have had to adopt new phrases, employ new transitions between tasks and find new ways of moderating the behaviour of our students. Doing these new things during lockdown, after being comfortable with my own long-established in-person routines, was a bit of a shock to my system.

Since coming back to the physical classroom, I’ve become much more explicit in my instructions to students. Prior to lockdown, I relied much more on my “personality”, for want of a better word, to monitor and influence student behaviour.

I have rephrased my behaviour instructions in a very specific way. This is because during remote learning, I could not be a physical presence in the room and could not detect as easily when students were struggling, or were off-task, so I had to adapt my instructions to remove unnecessary barriers to their understanding of the task, such as the behavioural cues.

Previously I could intervene in an ad hoc way. But in the remote lesson I could not, so I had to set up students better in the first place.

My instructions in the physical class now begin with a behavioural cue, e.g. “While discussing…”, “On your own…”, “Using your sheet…”, etc. This means that students are less likely to begin doing something in the wrong way, so that less intervention is required from me to correct their course of action.

This might seem obvious, but the effectiveness of the instruction often stems from where the behavioural cue occurs in the instruction. If you place it at the beginning, students absorb it much more than if it is placed at the end, when they are too busy still thinking about what you said at the start.

Conclusion

It has been a memorable year in education (so far) and not always for the best reasons. But it is one that has truly revolutionised how we think about our teaching. Now we are all back in the physical classroom, it is time to capitalise on what we have learnt and build upon it for the future.

On Teachers Walking Away

Teacher Leaving

A Guest Post by Ele Crovato

DISCLAIMER: This blog is a personal stance on a much-discussed topic; I don’t speak for anyone but myself and those that I have quoted where appropriate. 

The following is taken from page 9 of Briefing Paper 7222, 16 December 2019, available from The House of Commons Library:

“22.5% of newly qualified entrants to the sector in 2016 were not recorded as working in the state sector two years later. The five year out-of-service rate for 2013 entrants was 32.3%, the highest on the current series, which dates back to 1997. The rate has been between 25.4% and 32.3% in each year over this period. The ten year out-of-service rate for 2009 entrants was 38%. It has been between 40.3% and 34.4% in each year since 1997.

DfE commissioned research on factors affecting teacher retention 

Following a survey targeted at former teachers in January to March 2017, the DfE commissioned in-depth qualitative research into why teachers leave the profession and what would encourage them to remain in teaching. The report of this research was published in March 2018: Factors Affecting Teacher Retention: Qualitative Investigation

Amongst the findings of the research were: 

  • Workload was the most important factor influencing teachers’ decisions to leave the profession and most suggested solutions to addressing retention were linked to workload in some way. 
  • Decisions to leave the profession were “generally driven by the accumulation of a number of factors, over a sustained period of time”, but for some, there had been a specific ‘trigger’ point. 

Suggested solutions for retention offered by teachers included: improving in-school support for teachers, increasing focus on progression opportunities, reducing workload, improving working conditions (flexible working was viewed positively; pay was not a driver for most but it was stated that pay levels were not reflective of the role), professional recognition and greater autonomy.”

Roughly, one in three new teachers don’t stay beyond those infamous first five years of service; I don’t have any numbers to prove it at this point, but I’m not convinced that the teaching profession is so much different from other sectors.

In the good old days of me having jobs before teaching, staying with one employer or in one sector for a long time was no longer an expectation, even if you had been offered a permanent job; the truth is, I think, at least partially, that becoming a teacher is still seen as one of those jobs that clearly carry the ‘vocation’ label and therefore, once in, you’re in, and commitment is commitment.

In other words, you’re expected to stay no matter what (I’m being very generic here, I know) and leaving is seen as a huge deal.

I live most of my teaching life in the very limited world of EduTwitter, but I know that every time someone posts about making that big decision of leaving teaching, the post leaves ripples. I’m guessing this is normal for a number of reasons (we’re losing one of ‘our own’, if you like) and we know that retention is hard work, so I do sympathise with the upset; goodness knows that we need all the good teachers we can get. I genuinely understand why a seasoned teacher would be an overall loss to the profession.

I’ve yet to encounter a leaving tweet that speaks of dreadful children, horrible colleagues (again, being generic here), and the hate of working in a school being the reason people leave; no, let’s be honest here, people leave because teaching is a relentless job which you don’t step away from: the workload in far too many schools is horrendous, the demands on time are absurd and, quite frankly, nowhere near worthy of the money we get.

Of course I know that no one gets into teaching for the money – if that was the case we’d have no teachers to speak of – but sure enough it has to be considered at some point; and, while the bursaries for training in certain subjects look very nice, they’re also very deceiving: going from 30K as a physics trainee to circa 24K as an NQT doesn’t bode very well, does it?

In view of all of the above, it comes to no surprise that the latest input from Gavin Williamson regarding teacher retention was seen by some as gaslighting (see this TES article for details). Thing is, Mr Williamson, while we could argue that some ITT providers are better than others at their job, you know and we know that training has nothing to do with teachers staying or leaving; statistics have shown, over and over again, that workload is pretty much the bugbear here and often one of the deciding factors in choosing the school you work at.

So, in essence, if Mr Williamson continues to come up with pearls of wisdom like the one above, I fear he will manage to create an unsurmountable divide between government and the very people a Secretary of State Education is supposed to work with and for. 

Yet, I’m making what is potentially an even more controversial claim here: while it might be true that retention is an issue, it makes no sense how big a fuss we make of it. Now, before you get the pitchforks out, I’ve thought about this long and hard and I hope that you can too; for one reason or another, I’m not as insular (some detractors would say ‘institutionalised’) as other, more experienced teachers. Also, the fact that I’ve come to teaching after doing loads of other stuff might actually help me see the profession in a different way as most people that have been teaching for a far longer time than me, do.

In my school we currently have a number of Teach First trainees. I had never heard of TF before getting onto Twitter, and I’ll admit that their reputation – not always positive – precedes them. So far I’ve heard that TF trainees are trained for SLT, are trained to leave, are trained to go into bigger and better things, with the overall feeling that they basically don’t stay in teaching.

This might or might not be true and I’m not interested in the TF rumours being proven or otherwise because I’m sure that, one way or another, the organisation reflects the variety of outcomes of all ITT providers out there. So, for example, while I stayed on as a teacher after my training, one of my fellow trainees decided it wasn’t for her; once again, the overall reaction to her decision (from me included) was one of commiseration but of recognition of her bravery. Believe me when I tell you that, when I left my job as a team manager at Esso, no one made a fuss and told me how brave my decision was.

But back to TF. 

One of the trainees we have is in my science department and this is her second year with us; this is obviously not the norm as we’re used to trainees coming and going as they move on through placements. The TF trainee and I have some wonderful conversations about all sorts of stuff; I’ll call her Hannah just to respect her privacy, even though she’s fully aware of me using her as an example for this blog.

Hannah and I spend some of our PPA time debating and discussing education stuff, anything from making resources to abandoning PPT for booklets to the best cake for tedious meetings. Recently she talked to me about her future plans post QTS and I was not surprised to find out that she wishes to go on a gap year but I was actually surprised to find out she doesn’t intend to return to the teaching profession after that.

As you can expect, my reaction was the usual one of commiserations and of mourning the loss of a really decent teacher. Of course, I probed a bit more and she was happy to discuss her views of the teaching profession as it stands; a further disclaimer should go here and I should remind anyone reading this that I’m relaying Hannah’s personal views, but she definitely found me in agreement with many of her points.

Hannah mainly mentioned the well-known retention factors that we all know about: unrealistic workload, as well as demands on time that go well beyond the school hours and lack of support from some SLT. She recognises that the way we do things in our school is much different from other schools, and what I mean is that, as teachers, our workload is the absolute minimum, we don’t mark books, we have centralised detentions, we don’t chase parents nor children, we are consistently supported by a lovely and very visible SLT, and that makes a huge difference. However, both Hannah and I know very well that this is not always the norm, at least not at this point, and we appreciate that changing schools might also mean giving up some or all of the nice stuff we have at our own school. 

Hannah also bemoans the unrealistic expectation of having to find new resources to teach with, indeed of not having some sort of centralised database for each topic which we can access and use at leisure; she finds the lack of a more standardised approach to running a school just as baffling; she cannot quite fathom the fact that some schools are criticised for being strict with behaviour expectations, something which was basically a given among her peers during her schooling (she’s in her 20s).

In short, she has found too many negatives in her day-to-day teaching job to want to come back as a qualified teacher; she knows that demands will possibly get worse once she’s an NQT and beyond and therefore she’s stepping away from the profession altogether. When I asked her if she would consider returning she said no, not unless considerable changes and improvements were in place.

As she was speaking about all this, I found myself nodding along in agreement a lot; because of a number of reasons, this is my fourth year in the classroom and I’ve seen some wonderful schools and some terrible schools, so I really do know what is out there.

Yet, the thing that struck me the most was her reaction to the responses she gets when she says she will not continue teaching: she doesn’t get the sympathy nor the commiserations, and she doesn’t get why it’s a big deal. She got me thinking and you know what? She has a point. Hear me out.

In every other profession or job I’ve ever been in, leaving is not a big deal. I mean, sure, if you’ve been in a job for a long time and you have some lovely colleagues they’re bound to miss you and you miss them. However, I’ve lost count of the times in which I’ve seen a post about a teacher fully leaving teaching and being told that changing schools might help (yes, I’m also guilty of this, I will do better): why? Why do we say this? Instead of saying something encouraging, we sort of turn the tables. Look, I know this is the kind of comment made with the best intentions, I do. But it still sounds odd, somehow. Put it in the context of any other form of employment and you’ll see what I mean.

Every job in the world carries a probation period, however long, and teaching is no exception; to be brutally honest, I’ll go one more and say that teacher training, as it stands now, is misleading; the most you teach is about 70% of a full timetable and the responsibility of the classes you teach ultimately rests with the actual teacher so yes, I think misleading is a fair assessment. No, I don’t have a solution and I fully understand why ITT courses are setup the way they are, but they are nevertheless unrealistic. Many people told me that my NQT year would be so much easier than my training year but that was definitely not true for me, or rather, that was far too simplistic a way to put it.

The reality of being in a classroom, in charge of – on a typical five-period day – about 140 or so kids is terrifying and a huge responsibility! And the truth is that we don’t know what that is actually like until we’re well into our NQT year. And the even more obvious truth that sometimes we ignore is that it takes time to try out a job, any job, but especially a complex one as teaching; complex not necessarily because of what we do, which of course is not rocket science as such, but complex because of the constant plate spinning that comes with the job. Someone once compared the skills you need when teaching to the ones you need when driving a car, which is fair enough, except the car is on fire and you’re driving on two wheels on the edge of a precipice. While I can agree that in time things get better, this is true of some aspects of the job, but not all of them; in fact, my argument here is that some get worse as responsibility increases: eventually something has to give to restore balance.

So, with all the respect I might have for Mr Williamson, he’s once again off the mark and appears to operate in a parallel universe where teachers have no lives outside school, no families to worry about, no agency, no voice; quite frankly, no amount of training will ever solve the number of ludicrous loops we make teachers jump through.

While I’d agree that the vast majority of people hold teachers in high esteem – despite all attempts to convince them otherwise from far too many sources – it’s really important that, for at least once, you read the room, Gavin, seriously. If not the room then read the reports the government you belong to commissions. Honestly, we deserve someone who knows what they’re doing.

But, and this is a sizeable but, to me it seems also true that we make a rod for our own back in the way that we view those who choose to leave the profession, for whatever reason. We might not do it willingly or in a way meant to cast doubt, but we still do it and I think we should stop; we should consider the kind of implicit message we might be sending to others who are doubtful of their place in the classroom.

Overall, it feels like we’re very good at recognising the things that make us want to leave teaching, but we often fail to accept that teaching is just like any other job and we should be able to come and go, so to speak, even if training is hard work, even if we give it a proper try but still it doesn’t work out, even if we take as much as two years (as in Hannah’s case) to actually make a decision about it.

We should be able to just leave it or take it as with any other job without the burden of guilt hanging over us because we are left feeling that we didn’t try hard enough.

Ele Crovato

Science Teacher and #TeamTransition Science Lead

On Twitter as @Illwriteitdown

With special thanks to Hannah for her patience and honesty, to Towers for being an awesome school, and to Andy McHugh for bravely hosting this blog.

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