Fail better.
First day of the new term today.
It only took about 15 minutes for one of the students to declare I was a shit teacher. And only a further 30 seconds for two others to join in.
*sigh*
They had an assessment today. We did the work for it before the break. We went over it in the tutorials before the break. I gave them handouts to look at over the break, and even wrote home to their parents–enclosing the handouts and asking the parents to get involved since the student needed to know the opinions of an adult–all to prepare them for an assessment today.
Six students turned up (two of them late). Three declared they didn’t want to do the test. One denied I had ever mentioned anything about it (despite my clear recollection of telling him about it on the last day before the break). And one declared he didn’t understand any of it (unsurprising, as he hadn’t attended for the previous four weeks).
So yeah, I’m the shit teacher. Getting it down in writing, it looks ridiculous. But at the time, despite trying to laugh it off, I took what they said to heart. I felt like a shit teacher.
So for much of this evening I’ve moped about feeling crap. But I’m past that now. I’ve got some fresh ideas for the next time the class sees me (and hopefully most of them will show up!). I’m reminded of the quote by Samuel Beckett, which I think I need to get tattooed onto me so I can remember it.
Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.
Next week, when I see the class again, it may all go wrong. I may get called a shit teacher again. And I may fail. But I’ll fail better, week after week, and if I fail well enough, they’ll pass.
And that’s all I really want.
Here comes Jakey Claus!
In the West of Scotland at this time of year, boys and girls await the arrival of a bearded, mischievous imp who visits in the dead of night, bearing gifts.
You’ll know him by his faded, slightly browny-red outfit, the stale smell of pish and tobacco, and his long beard, which was once white but is now yellowed and matted with lumps of vomit. On Christmas Eve, when children are tucked up in bed (or drinking on street corners), if you listen carefully you can hear Jakey Claus clattering about on the rooftops, cursing under his breath as he tries to find a chimney to climb down.
Most years you can hear the feral reindeer that pull his sleigh–Fannybaws, Cuntybaws, Bawbag, Bampot, Glaikit, Eejit, Hingy and Thingy–along with Rudolph (red-nosed due to excessive alcoholism), but this year Santa already has 152 points on his license for driving over the limit, and his sleigh was clamped by the polis.
Jakey Claus, when he eventually comes into your house, brings presents. If you have been a good boy or girl then Jakey Claus will leave a half-empty bottle of Buckfast in your tree. If you have been bad, then he’ll leave a puddle of vomit at the base of the tree. To be honest, he might just do that anyway. Either way, Jakey Claus will rifle through your stockings and take a few items for himself.
Many people leave treats out for Jakey Claus. Traditionally this includes a bottle of the cheapest whisky you can find, some fritters, a can of Irn-Bru, or a Munchy Box. However, you can leave out a glass of warm milk if you prefer. Just make sure to top it up with methylated spirits..
So best to behave yourself, since you don’t want to get on Jakey Claus’ bad side. “He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake…” That’s not a jolly song, that’s a threat.
So have a very Merry Christmas pal…
Pearls of wisdom from my students
We are fast approaching the end of my first term as an English teacher. It has been… interesting. I may not have been able to impart a love of literature on my students, we may be a little behind on the Controlled Assessment schedule, but they all know the etymology of a hell of a lot of swear words, and why swearing is considered impolite.
I work in FE, but I teach children who are still in compulsory schooling (I teach as part of a course for students who have been excluded or are otherwise outside of mainstream education). So my charges are at times perhaps a little mouthier and a little cheekier than your mainstream class might otherwise be. Swearing, grudges, arguments and disobedience may be familiar to most teachers, but I hope there are very few classes where burning test papers, threatening to stab each other, actually getting stabbed and turning up to class drunk/stoned are regular occurrences…
At any rate, they are entertaining and frustrating in equal measures. Amongst the highlights this term have been:
- Student A burning his test paper. When asked not to burn it, his response was to set fire to Student D’s…
- “Sir, you look like a gay farmer”–an oddly specific fashion critique delivered by Student A
- “Is this going to be another boring lesson where we have to learn stuff?”–Student C doesn’t quite grasp why we’re having lessons…
- “I speak English much well betterer than you sir innit.”–Student A demonstrates my point about why he ought to pay more attention when I’m teaching him about Standard English.
- “Can we watch a film today sir?”–the cry of every class, at the start of every lesson. Since the start of term. Jesus wept.
- “Sir, where’d you get your shoes from?”–not as common as “can we watch a film”, but Group B have an odd fascination with my footwear…
- “Dave!”–my name, according to Group B…
- “Paulie babes”–my name, according to Group A…
- “Dave!” “It’s not Dave, it’s Paulie babes.” “Nah, it’s Dave. Dave, tell them your name is Dave.”–an argument outside the staffroom while I was trying to have my coffee break…
- “I’m going to put you in Room 101 sir!”–threat from Student S when I insisted she deliver her presentation (the topic was Room 101). When I told her she could put me in if she wanted and realised I wasn’t kidding, she actually delivered a good presentation!
- “This is a waste of time when we could be doing stuff to help us pass our GCSE.”–Student G’s reason for putting Room 101 into Room 101 for his presentation. The presentation which was being assessed and would count towards passing his GCSE…
- “Uurgh, that’s disgusting. If I ever go to Wales they’d better not make me eat that.”–Student L on being told what’s in a haggis. I’m only responsible for English, not geography…
I have had Group A for the last time this term, and my last session with Group B will be on Tuesday. And we will be watching a film (yes, I have seen Bad Teacher, why do you ask?)–but it is an adaptation of the book they will be reading next term, so it’s educational, honest!
Here’s a pitch for you…
So I was looking at my site stats recently. It seems my last post was a little popular. I used to be able to go back weeks, months even on my Statcounter account. Now? Three days, tops. At one point I could only go back 18 hours (why yes, I am a cheapskate who hasn’t upgraded to the paid version of Statcounter, why do you ask?)
Anyway, I noticed that I got visits the past few days from both the New York office of Nature Publishing Group, and the London Office of Macmillan Publishers, who own Nature Publishing Group.
Now, one of these visits may have been from Henry Gee, the Nature editor with responsibility for Nature’s Futures section, and who therefore is responsible for the recent kerfuffle over the story “Womanspace”. But Henry can’t have been in both London and New York, so someone else in NPG read my letter.
So here’s my pitch. I’m not a scientist. I can’t comment on Henry’s talents as an editor of scientific articles and journals. But I can tell you that he has shown very poor judgement when it comes to fiction, and doesn’t appear to understand that the role of an editor for literature is much different from that of an editor for science journals.
So rather than keep tearing Henry and Ed to pieces, how about I offer a constructive alternative? Let someone with experience of writing or editing fiction take over editing the Futures section. That way Henry can stick to editing science articles, Ed can return to writing up his research, and someone a bit more clued up about fiction can deal with the authors.
Sound good?
Basically, what I’m saying is I’ll do it for you.
Because let’s be honest, it would be hard to do worse than the Womanspace fiasco. About the only way I could create a worse PR nightmare for Nature would be if I actually published the three stories I suggested in jest in my last post on this subject.
And I think I have slightly better taste than to do that…
An open letter to Nature
In September, the science journal Nature published a “humorous” short story called “Womanspace”. The fact that it has taken two months for people to even notice this and react to it should really clue the editors at Nature into the fact that nobody is interested in reading fiction in a science journal, but that is not the point.
The fact that the editor allegedly responsible for the piece appears to be goading outraged comments, whilst perhaps speaking volumes about his suitability to remain an editor with what is meant to be a prestigious scientific journal is, though interesting, also not the point.
The point is this story serves to highlight the continuing problem of sexism in both science and science fiction. It really needs to stop and people need to grow up. Below is my comment to the editor of Nature, Henry Gee, added as a comment to the “story”. I have posted it here in case Nature decline to publish my comment (as is their right). The story itself, and my comment if published, can be found here.
Dear Mr Gee
I had to create an account on this site in order to comment. As part of that process, I had to accept your terms and conditions. These include:
1.You must not submit any material to the Site which… is inappropriate. Material will be considered in appropriate if that material is…defamatory, abusive, malicious, threatening, false, misleading, offensive, discriminatory, harassing, blasphemous, racist or sexist
So, had this “story” been a comment to the site, it would have violated your own terms and conditions and wouldn’t be allowed. So why publish it?
As a writer myself, I can tell you that this isn’t a good story. It reads like a poor, 20-second stand up routine padded out with the tropes of fiction. As an editor, I wouldn’t have even bothered to edit it, I would have passed on it. As a publisher, this would never have seen the light of day, either on a printing press or on a website, and I would be wary of anything the writer submitted in future.
Clearly this was published in order to be controversial. As a cynical attempt to drive traffic to your site, I hope this backfires spectacularly. Perhaps your advertisers may wish to consider if they want to continue being associated with this type of sexism? Perhaps your readers will wish to consider being customers of advertisers happy to be associated with sexism? Perhaps you won’t have many readers after this.
Finally Mr Gee, since Nature seems not to be discriminating about what fiction it publishes, I have three stories of my own you might wish to consider publishing in future issues of Nature:
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- Gayspace (a hilarious tale of how gay people access parallel dimensions to look fabulous)
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- Blackspace (a hilarious tale of how black people access parallel dimensions to be to be fast sprinters)
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- Jewspace (a hilarious tale of how Jewish people access parallel dimensions to save money)
Or maybe you’d have the sense not to publish these. Because they are offensive, and based on stereotypes. And you’d be right.
It is a pity that you and the other editors of Nature seem incapable of demonstrating that same level of decency towards half the global population.
