Adam Boxer has annoyed me.
His most recent blog post unpicks the issues caused by unwise group level announcements and I found it challenging.
A lot of what he identified as problems is present in my teaching, and it made me see there are issues I didn’t know I had.
That’s annoying because it requires a response.
Here’s a few things I say to classes in lessons and the reasons that aren’t necessary.
- (As a class enters the room) “No talking once you’re in the room, please.” (They know this)
- (As the class sits down) “Answer the Do Now questions.” (They know this)
- (As a class works on a piece of writing. “Remember to include evidence to support your argument.” (Non- specific so doesn’t add anything)
- (As they near the end of a task) “Just a minute left now!” (There’s a timer at the front of the room)
Even before I read Adam’s post, I knew saying stuff like this was silly and sometimes wondered why I was doing it. Who were the comments for? What was I trying to achieve?
I had no good answer and yet carried on with my occasional interjections – the sort of annoying director’s commentary that was faddish as special features on DVDs a few years back.
(“In just a minute I’ll ask them some questions”)
Why do I do it?
I can think of a couple of reasons.
It might be I developed the habit early in my career when I was less effective at getting classes to do what I wanted them to. In these years – and sadly it was years – I probably felt I had to repeat instructions and reminders again and again because I wasn’t used to children doing what I asked them to first time, and, even if they did, I assumed they’d forget what I wanted by the next lesson.
The second is even more annoying.
I think I picked up habits like this because I’d been conditioned to think if I wasn’t seen to be always doing something, I’d be penalised by performance management systems that incentivised high-energy dynamic teaching styles and punished perceived passivity.
This is probably also the reason I have an internal voice that still sometimes goes external to narrate the purpose of a task even though it’s irrelevant to the children doing it. Stuff like “this sort of question carries 8 marks so we need to get really good at them.”
When I think about it, I cringe but is it really that serious a thing to worry about?
Until I read Adam’s post, I didn’t think so.
There’s a lot of things that I can get better at, and this wasn’t on my radar.
But now I see it’s more of a problem than I thought it was and can think of other reasons in addition to those Adam identifies.
First there’s the issue over how repetition can make an instruction seem more negotiable.
When anyone asks someone to do something again and again it implies they aren’t sure they will the first time, which makes it seem more acceptable not to do it. At its worst this creates a vicious cycle, with students coming to think that if they aren’t asked to do something explicitly, they don’t need to do it even if this is normal, expectation, and then presenting as if they need the constant reminders.
As well meaning as it might be, it may subtlety lower expectations.
Secondly filling the air with words is like inflation – the more there are the less valuable they seem.
This is not the same thing as saying teachers should talk less, which is a historical nonsense those of us trained twenty years or so ago remember. Instead, it means that when we do talk – for however long- it should be valuable and useful, so students can better see the connection between listening and knowing and being able to do more.
If pupils can sometimes tune out a teacher without penalty, then we are asking them to know the difference between “not important to listen” and “important to listen” and switch between them, which is a very hard thing to do for lots of young people and can lead to frustration for everyone.
This has implications for planning general explanations too.
Sometimes, when I’m not clear what it is I want to explain or the best way to explain it, I find myself sort of flailing around the point with lots of scene setting and rhetoric, which is really a scaffold for me to work my way to the important bit.
The problem is while I may understand what the important bit is when I get to it, my pupils probably don’t, and for them it’s confusing.
For these reasons and – those Adam went through in his post – I am going to work on this. I’m going to try and stop banging on as much.
I think there are probably higher impact things, but also that this is one I can crack quite quickly – the equivalent of an emails that only takes a minute to reply to.
I hope I’m right but might not be – we’ll soon see.
Finally – it’s not really true I’m cross with Adam Boxer.
I like this stuff. The craft – a thing we can keep getting better at bit by bit.
That’s what’s great about teaching.
Ben Newmark 