FUD: Fear/Uncertainty/Doubt

“Good teaching is one-fourth preparation and three-fourths theatre.” (Gail Godwin) April 5, 2008

Next month I go on my second teaching placement. I never really talked much about the first, last November, but it went well, I passed, and I met some great teachers and kids.

In the first year of college, we get one placement, at the end of the year, teaching full control for three half-days. This year we have two: one for five weeks in May, one for five weeks in August. Busy, busy. I start on May 5 and finish on June 6, and I have to do three whole days of full control, teaching in at least four curriculum areas. Not so bad, really. We’re required to teach literacy (which actually includes reading, story writing, handwriting, oral presentation and visual presentation) and numeracy (which is, of course, plain old math(s)), and I will probably teach PE (which includes 15-20 minutes of daily fitness as well as a weekly lesson devoted to a specific skill, sport or concept) and science, which may yet be the simplest to plan of the lot. I think I’ll get the students to help me write a class book of my time at the school — they’re Year 2, which is 6-7 year olds — and do lots of photography with them. Ideally I’d like to include a lot of outside-the-classroom time, making the most of autumn before it gets cold, so I’ll need to plan lessons that would work inside or outside.

This is mostly a lot of thinking on-screen, as opposed to thinking out loud. I’ve been working on my wardrobe since I recently rediscovered a factory/outlet store that I thought had shut down years ago. I bought a pair of boots (brown suede flat sole) and a pair of flats with ankle straps (black with cherries, so not me but so cool!) of which I may need to post photos. Instead of planning my units, I’m planning my outfits. Heh.

The school I’m going to is on a pretty tangible boundary between the “historic”, snobby part of Christchurch and the drab state-housing area northwest of the city. When I mention it by name, people instantly give me a knowing look, a sort of “Oh, posh!” thing which I would have done before last year as well, but we visited them for an afternoon last year to observe numeracy teaching and I know the demographics. Although the city-side of the school is wealthy, the poorer side is the main feed into the school — wealthy families choose to send their children to schools where the others are more like them, more homogeneous, such as private or integrated schools with a religious focus — and so the overall school population comes from a low socio-economic background.

For all that, the children are, of course, a gorgeous, lively pack of wild animals who can’t sit still any longer than the average 6-year-old. There are two who speak almost no English, which will be a huge challenge for me, and one who doesn’t like new people, so I will be spending some extra time in the class before placement in order to let that child get used to me.

It’s my dream placement, I think. My Associate (the teacher in charge of that class) wants me to do as much as possible and although I think she’ll be less interested in helping me with the planning process, she’s enthusiastic and hardworking and knows her kids well. There’s a great mix of kids, the resources in the school seem more than adequate (so far!) and the teachers I’ve met in my short visit seemed friendly too.

I am excited!

Week One: Complete. Sanity: Intact. I think. February 23, 2007

Monday: This is so wrong. I don’t belong here. I’m obviously in the wrong place. Wait, there’s like, a dozen people here I know! Sweet!

Tuesday: Ugh, this is boring. Can we get started already?

Wednesday: Still boring. Wait. Uh, school visit? What? Where do I withdraw?

Thursday: Eeek! School visit imminent! Can’t think about anything else!

Friday: Huh. School visit surprisingly undramatic.

I’m going to cheat and copy/paste this from my personal journal. Here’s some snippets of things I wrote while decompressing this week. Mike’s been in Florida so I can’t vent at him.

First day: “It was mostly a day of catching up with other people, getting the gossip on last year’s classmates, seeing who was in and who wasn’t, complaining about the university expecting us to traipse over there to do any paperwork whatsoever when the college used to have perfectly adequate facilities in place.”

Third day: “Tomorrow I have my first school visit. We’re to spend the morning at Riccarton Primary, which is nice and close, observing in a classroom and chatting to small groups of kids. The idea is that we get an idea of their interests and where they’re at in the curriculum, then on Monday we return and read a book and run through an activity with them. It’ll be fun, but I’m nervous.”

Today: “The school visit was eye-opening, mostly in a depressing “WHAT ARE YOU PARENTS DOING TO YOUR CHILDREN?!” way: a low-decile school in which the turnover of children is up to 50% per year — transient low socio-economic families moving constantly from place to place. Hungry children who came with no breakfast beforehand, or bought a bag of chips or a Coke on their way to school. Children whose morning tea consisted of sugary pre-bought junk that was obviously thrown carelessly into a bag. Children who see a new friendly face and think it is appropriate to say, “I’ll KILL you. I’ll kill ALL of you,” to seem cool. Kids — 7, 8 and nine years old — talking gangsta and wearing hoodies and bandannas over their faces. Kids who seem to have no chance. It was a real contrast to the school that Ethan will attend next year — yet they are less than a mile apart. I almost cried.”

So yeah. I’m pretty sure I can stick this out, ignoring external factors. Today was amazing in a bunch of ways, and next week I go back to these mini-gangsters and sit back down and run through a session with them…a session of my design. It’s great to be thrown in the deep end. Curriculum studies don’t start for another week, though, and that’s what I’m looking forward to right now. I’m also learning that T-Col schedules are very, very loose compared to the written versions, and that bothers me because I preplan my day to the exact second. Yesterday I almost hyperventilated because the lecturer ran our class 25 minutes later than the written timetable stated. Apparently I have some major adjusting to do.

A general update for the sake of updating February 8, 2007

It’s funny how, as soon as one little thing is done, everything else just falls perfectly into place.

Yesterday I called the university because my enrolment still hadn’t come through, and classes start in ten days. I was transferred to someone at the college who emailed someone else on my behalf using big words like “What’s going on???” and “Student loans” and the next thing you know I’m enrolled. This is a huge relief, obviously. Today I called Studylink because I have no faith in bureaucracy at all and checked that they hadn’t thrown out my loan application or denied it on the basis of my unacceptable shoe size, and they said yes! Great! Take our money! Have some more! Let us heavily subsidise your daycare! Be in interest-free debt to us! And I laughed at the massiveness that is my debt to the government.

And now I am ready to be a student again.

Ethan is at morning kindergarten. He started yesterday and I got to be the proud mother that everyone hates, because Ethan went straight to the rollbook and wrote his own name in it, then refused to let anyone but himself write his names on things that needed his name. He argued with a teacher who automatically picked up the crayon to label his painting, and I must take a photo of the writing of a child who is barely four. And you can all hate me for my smugness. I know you do.

His lunch wasn’t so successful. The morning kids have lunch at kindy on Wednesday and Friday, so I packed a healthy (if bland) lunchbox covered in Superman stickers and when he came home he’d eaten the apple and the hot cross bun and left the scroggin and cheese-and-relish sandwich (which he calls “pickle rubbish”, oh ho). Fortunately he ate them willingly enough for afternoon tea. Suckah. Today I forgot it’s not a lunch day and packed his lunchbox again, duh. He is loving it thus far, all two days of it, but the novelty will have to wear off soon enough and he will be begging to go to school.

Amy and I paid a visit to the daycare at the college — our second visit and this time there were actually children there. Amy met Julia, who is one week younger and very quiet and speaks little English because her parents are Italian. The teachers greet Julia in Italian, so I am delighted to think that Amy will soon be riding a Vespa and saying, “Ciao!” a lot. I’ll make sure she always answers the phone with “Pronto!” Those Italians are so crazy.

Those are the current main events in our family life. Other, smaller but probably funnier, things have happened but I am never in the vicinity of a computer when they do. Suffice to say that today we have renamed our children Child Prodigy and The Snot Monster.

Hard luck, eh. January 15, 2007

Like the illustrious Vish, I too am suffering at the hands of the dreaded academic bureaucracy. Let me rant.

Last Monday, Ethan and I dropped Amy at daycare and went to the university registry to pay for my two summer school classes, which began today. I approached the fees counter with student ID and credit card at the ready, expecting (ha!) to simply show my ID and pay. First the woman at the counter rolled her eyes at my college ID, because woo, the college is now officially part of the university and OH DEAR GOD she had to actually look up my new university-supplied ID number. Poor dear.

Then it turned out that I was apparently not enrolled in the summer school classes, which I had called the free 0800 number to apply for back in early December. I was sent, with Ethan, to the enrolment counter, where I handed over my ID to further and exaggerated eyerolling. I’m pretty sure I saw one actually roll out of her eye socket, hit the ceiling, and drop back in. It turned out they had no record of my summer school enrolment, and I — and Ethan — was sent to the college to find out why.

Would you believe the college knew nothing? It’s true. I was sent BACK to the university. With Ethan. Who really wanted to be at the library so he could play on the computer.

The same lady behind the counter spent a lot of time actually seeming to do stuff to figure out why I wasn’t enrolled. She even tried to enrol me again, but the computer would only let me enrol in 2006 classes. It was like the sketches in Little Britain: “Computer says noooo.” She finally asked a supervisor, who asked someone in the call centre. It turned out that a) I needed college approval for the courses before I could pay the fees, so I was only pre-enrolled, and b) pre-enrolment doesn’t show up on the registry computers, so as far as one half of the building knew I didn’t exist. I was finally given the name of a woman based at the college who is apparently in charge of approving courses, called her, and got approved two days later. Still, it has taken until today, exactly one week later, before I was finally able to hand over my credit card and pay my fees.

And that is a sort of segue into the second part of Why The University-College Merger Is A Big Fat Mess. When I went into StudentNet to pay my fees, I saw my formal offer of enrolment for the summer courses, which I had to accept before being officially entered in the course (I know, I know). I accepted said offer, then checked my enrolment details. There they all were: 2006 Certificate in Learning Support (Enrolled); 2007 Certificate in Learning Support (Enrolled)…and, uh, WTF? Last week there was another line in there: 2007 Bachelor of Teaching and Learning (Primary) (Pending).

That line was missing.

I immediately called the university with some choice words that I bit back for the sake of efficiency and explained the situation as I knew it. The friendly phone drone said that yes, I was enrolled in the Certificate. Uh huh. But what about the Bachelor’s? Uh, hmm, well, it’s not on the list, is it? Are you sure you enrolled?

GAH.

So at the moment my enrolment for the three-year bachelor’s programme, which begins in ONE MONTH, has vanished into thin freaking air. I’m waiting for a call, which will come tomorrow afternoon, that says, oh, uh, well, we don’t know what happened but I swear we’ll fix it, it was the college’s fault because the university is blameless, and by the way your schedule is now completely different, sorry about that.

(Incidentally, my class this week is great. There are three students in the class. Discussions are mercifully brief but it’s impossible to fall asleep without being noticed.)

I’m in! November 21, 2006

Next year I am officially going to be a mature student. I’m going to sit right up the front of the class and ask lots of seemingly pointless questions, raise my hand to answer every single question the lecturer asks, and always arrive at class twenty minutes early with my apple all shined up.

I got my acceptance letter today, five days after the assessment, yay! I’m in!

That’s all I have to say, really. I’m hot and sunburnt and I just sat through what felt like the longest, most eyerollingest chattiest kindy committee meeting in all of history. And now I’m booked up through Christmas with silly kindy things.

Why I am nervous. November 12, 2006

On Friday I got a letter confirming my assessment date for the College of Education 2007 intake. It’s not a simple process, and it’s making me jumpy.

First, I’ve spent the past few months taking classes which will earn me the Certificate of Supporting Children’s Learning, a level-four qualification. (For the Americans here, an Associate’s Degree is equivalent here to level five.) The idea behind achieving the certificate is to give me easy entry to the college’s teaching programme next year — I have a patchy educational background and although I have a proven academic record, I have no piece of paper to show for my work. I will finish the last class for the CertSCL in February.

I recently sent in my application to enrol at the College of Education for the Bachelor of Teaching and Learning (Primary) programme, aka the BTchLn. I adore that acronym. Completing the degree will give me all the qualification I need to be a school teacher in NZ and many other countries. The application included a police clearance check, two four-page written questionnaires to be completed by friends or acquaintances, and a personal statement. I wasn’t allowed to see the references which meant they had to be mailed in separately, so I spent some time harassing the two people who were kind enough to fill in some very complicated papers.

Once all the paperwork was received, I got my assessment date, which is this coming Wednesday. I have a panel interview with two other applicants in front of (probably) three people. Fifteen minutes before the interview begins we will be given three of the questions we’ll be asked, so we have some time to prepare. Ha.

Preceding the interview is a visit to a primary school where I choose a picture book from a pre-vetted pile to read to a class. This probably worries me more than the interview. I have to engage the children and get and keep their attention. I have to remember that they’re not my kids and therefore slapping them around if they talk during storytime is not acceptable. Maybe I’ll write a note to myself in big letters on my hand — DO NOT WHACK THE CHILDREN — and then I’ll have something to discuss with the staff in the panel interview.

Things to do/Things I have done August 22, 2006

Have done:

* waltzed Amy around the dining room in full view of the neighbourhood to Rufus Wainwright;

* “played” my bass guitar for the first time since oh, the Jurassic Era or so;

* been bled on by Ethan from more than one wound at once;

* hugged my babies, just because they are so clever and funny and oh-so-cute-and-much-cuter-than-yours-of-course;

* watched reality TV;

* read a book on gender duality in preschoolers.

To do:

* get rid of this evil sinus cold that is currently lurking in my nose and throat;

* get a full night’s sleep for the first time in a week (dependent on the above);

* start the three assignments I have due in less than a month.

* * *

College — well, I haven’t written about college, have I? It’s going fine. I mean, the Certificate of Supporting Children’s Learning is level four, meaning somewhere between high school and DUH. Everything I’m told and everything we discuss in class is common sense, like, oh my god, reading to your child is…wait for it…GOOD FOR THEM. WHO’D HAVE THOUGHT.

I have been enjoying it though. Every Monday my day at college begins by having a lecturer read a children’s picturebook to the class. Every book is fascinating and has a positive message and I can’t believe I have never sat down and thought about the deeper meaning in a children’s book. We talked briefly about the mental health issues that lurk behind Where the Wild Things Are and then I came home and read it to Ethan and the discussion we had afterwards was so eye-opening, talking about the security of home and what fun it is to imagine and pretend.

The classes are deliberately vague and overarching, covering many things in a shallow way, but I’ve been picking out things that interest me to research later or things that directly relate to Ethan and how he plays or talks or reads and writes. I’m starting to get really excited about studying next year — but that’s another post, probably after I’ve ranted about the ridiculous incompetence of the Student Loans scheme.

Is this bureaucracy? Signs point to yes. July 13, 2006

One more business day before I start school, yet I have no idea where my “Student Pack” is. I should have a StudentNet account (wooyay), and I should, one should assume, know where my classrooms are. Hmm.

I got my student loan contract today — there is a rather long list of T&C to read through including the provisions for writing off the interest. Since I’m not full-time, I don’t know whether I qualify but I need to sign the contract before it’s valid anyway. I have more forms for the Student Allowance which I’m not expecting to receive but thought I’d try for anyway, and I need to make a few thousand copies of various pieces of paper to prove that I am human and not a compulsive liar (probably true) or a compulsive money-spender (probably not true).

Off to Blenheim this weekend with the kids. I’ve been priming Amy for taking some big steps while we’re at the grandparents’ — it’s only fair.

Bwahaha! July 10, 2006

I am currently working on growing the biggest student loan in the history of ever. If you ever want to hear Mike giggle like a giddy schoolgirl, get him to say the following:

“You could add to your student loan…and then we could pay it back!” And cue chortling. This should probably not be funny.
…

Amy took a day off from walking today. She didn’t even stand. This may be due to the pair of snazzy and stupidly overpriced Converse sneakers I had on her feet today. I promise I didn’t buy them. My sister bought Ethan a pair of Adidas sneakers for his first birthday and a pair of Nikes for his second. For Amy’s first Christmas, she was given pink Converse All-Stars. Yeah. Baby. Photos. Whenever we get our card reader back.

Further to the discussion. July 4, 2006

The government tells us we’re rich. I’d scoff at this if it wasn’t so damn frustrating when we don’t qualify for a single bit of assistance with childcare. I spent a couple of hours on various government websites recently looking for the tiniest glimmer of a hope of a hand with our upcoming daycare bills. I thought briefly that we qualified for the Parental Tax Credit, but it turned out they raised the maximum income levels after Amy was born.

The reason I am so bummed about it is that I called Amy’s daycare yesterday and scored a slot for both kids from nine till three on Mondays while I’m back at school. This means I can take two classes on Monday, then another on Tuesday afternoons while Amy is at daycare and Ethan is at kindy. If I take one more as a distance course, then two summer school classes, I’ll be done with the Certificate in Supporting Children’s Learning (that’s the CertSCL to you suckas) by February, in time for the 2007 Bachelor of Teaching and Learning (ie. BTL or something, hey, it’s almost “bottle”) intake. Score!

The downside: our daycare costs will go from $26.50 per week — Amy’s current half-day — to $96.50 per week — both kids on an almost-full day and Amy still on her half-day. Plus my tuition fees. I’m debating getting a student loan, including living costs, to cover fees and daycare. But my loan from last time is already sky-high, and who’s to say that the current interest-free status won’t change with the next election?
…

In other news, Amy is standing for short periods of time, usually when distracted by her lunatic brother. She thinks it’s fun to tip forwards and be caught. I wonder what will happen the first time she tries it while no-one is looking.