I am now a newly qualified teacher nearing the end of my first incredibly hectic, demanding year in a challenging school with great kids. I have made some excellent faux pas that I will most likely repeat at some point in my teaching career, but I’ve also realised that I’m a pretty good mentor when push comes to shove, particularly in my role as year 7 form tutor.
Take Jake for example (name changed, obviously). He the kind of kid who gets the most negative comments, frequents seclusion like it’s a home-made lemonade stall, and often finds (rather than gets) himself in trouble. He was first brought to my attention in September, and I thanked my lucky (ish) stars that I wouldn’t have to teach him the future tense in French anytime soon. Once it became clear he was not in my classes, the boy was off my radar.
This seemed to be working out just fine, until one year 7 tutor meeting when I sat across from my colleagues and heard the words that nobody with a nice, polite, well-behaved form wants to hear: “I’d like to switch the groups up a bit”. My heart sank, and we debated for quite some time over how best to split up the ‘famous five’ that had somehow ended up in a single form. Between them, these five held more than half of all seclusions and exclusions for the year, and they wore them like war medals.
They treated the lessons like a battlefield too, and would often be sent out within the first half an hour. Due to their grievously loud personalities and unqualified swagger, they had turned their form-time into the famous five show, and my colleague was having none of it, rightly so. After much deliberation (and some pleading that I not lose any of my darlings), I accepted Jake into my form.
I was filled with anxiety. My form had only just made peace with the fact that they were to read their books in silence every morning, unless I said otherwise. They took pleasure out of watching newsround, an EDUCATIONAL PROGRAMME. One of their favourite games was to read a line each from their books to the rest of the students. I had well and truly crafted this class into something magnificent, and now Jake, of the now infamous five, would be causing ripples. The boy had taken to swearing and even pushing past (!) his previous form tutor; I cringed at the thought.
D-day took a while to come, as the proposed date had clearly been forgotten by everyone involved, and I was not planning on reminding anybody. But when it did, I took a deep breath, smiled, and told him to take a seat.
Jake walked into a room full of eyes, and one of my most boisterous girls alerted me to the fact that they were…dating. He had a bigger reputation than Taylor Swift likes to think she has, and it seemed to echo around the room as he took his seat. He responded by looking straight ahead at the teacher he didn’t know, bewilderment spreading across his face.
Here he was, fresh outta seclusion, and suddenly he was among some of his peers. Except none of these kids were swearing, or throwing pens across the classroom, and not a single child was whistling. Quite the contrary. They were sat in their seats, their planners out and open on the correct page, and a reading book held open on the page they were about to read (having been ever so slightly disturbed by the new arrival).
Jake looked around at presumably his second home for the next four years, he took in how the other half behave. Ever so carefully, without me saying a single word, he lifted his planner out of his bag, and placed it on his new desk. He took one more glance, seemingly looking for any way out, any indication that there were strong currents under the calm exterior that is my wonderful form. Having not succeeded in this final quest, he pulled his torn and ‘well-loved’ Harry Potter, the Chamber of Secrets book from his bag, opened it up and looked down.
NOTE: This boy has since walked into every form time (morning and afternoon) and done the exact same thing. He has played the reading game, watched Newsround, and read his book without a single fuss. Will most likely keep you updated.
DISCLAIMER: All names are, and always will be changed.
Pretending to speak French 