Teaching techniques? By Steve Way

 I’m sure most of you contributing to the blog have had the experience of not quite having the piece you were thinking of posting being ready for use. It’s my turn this month. However, I have been doing a brief bit of early spring cleaning through files on my computer and I came across this piece. The incidents described derive from personal experiences I have had visiting schools as an author but – usually unknown to most of the teachers - a practicing teacher as well. My responses to the events are entirely my own and of course could be complete balderdash, I leave it to you to decide. As the children involved represent the age group we’re writing for, I hope it is of use to know what some of them are experiencing in schools.

 At one of the International Schools in Lyon I was preparing to share some of my science sketches and poems now published with co-author Simon Hickton in Using Stories to teach science Age 9-11 published by Hopscotch Educational Publishing. I told the teacher that the first sketch was set in a bank (with me playing the daft “Professor Crackpot” who generally wants funding for inventions that make inappropriate use of friction, such as “grease gloves” for goalkeepers, and one of the children playing his exasperated bank manager) at which the teacher reacted with complete horror and shock. 'But we should only teach from the children’s experience!' she declared clearly astounded that I would consider setting a story in a context outside the children’s compass of daily life. Nonplussed and disarmed by this unexpected reaction (plus that’s what I had with me anyhow!) I nevertheless still shared the sketch with the children, as I had done with many children beforehand, and am glad to say that the children appeared to enjoy it – they certainly laughed at all the jokes about the “grease gloves” etc – without apparently being thrown into the state of mental confusion and shock their teacher anticipated. 

Later, with a chance to think over her concerns it seemed to me that there were two ripostes I could have made. (Do you, like me, regularly think of the cutting or incisive comment you could have made when it’s too late?)

My first would have been to suggest that she send the children straight home. After all their home is what they have most experienced, whereas a school is an alien environment they come into after up to five years of solely experiencing home life. Ah but (excuse me for making a perverse suggestion) perhaps by encountering this new experience called ‘school’ the children are hopefully experiencing many fruitful new experiences.

The second and more relevant point I could have made – particularly since I was sharing a piece of writing with the children – would have been to warn her of the extreme danger of allowing her children to read any books! For surely none of the children have gone to a school for trainee witches and wizards? Hopefully none have entered the bleak kingdom of Narnia, been tied to the beach by Lilliputians, been had up in court alongside Toad, hunted for dangerous Heffalumps, had to hide from nasty giants with the BFG or ended up in the machinations of a chocolate factory. My point being of course that literature in particular, but learning in general, should surely take children far beyond their normal daily experience, at least in their imagination, so that they can encounter new worlds, new ideas and new learning. 

My sketch involved two characters in a bank. I’m of the opinion that most of the 7–9-year-olds I was about to share my sketch with knew what people are. It was set in a bank. I think all the children would have heard of one of these and possibly even walked into one occasionally in the company of some significant others of the adult variety or heard said significant others talking about going to one/what they experienced there (don’t get me started on real banks!) So, when talking of ‘teaching from the children’s experience’ I think we can assume the children have some real life to work from!

This brings me onto a situation I have encountered even more frequently when visiting schools. Before the children have arrived teacher’s have effectively told me how low their expectations are of some of the children. A common one is, 'The boys on this table never show any interest in writing, you won’t get much from them I’m afraid.' Almost without exception, particularly when I quickly learned not to buy into the teacher’s expectations as she wished me to, I had a fantastic interaction with the children in question and they produced loads of wonderful work. I think the thing to remember is that children respond differently to different people in different situations and to always be wary of labelling or categorising them. Inevitably as a visitor I am going to get a different response from a group of children than their normal day-to-day teacher and therefore inevitably I have also occasionally presented my work to children who wouldn’t have cared about me or my work if I’d been published in 50 languages including Swahili and was personal author to the Queen.

A variation on the theme above are teachers who become alarmed when I encourage the children to think. If the ideas or underlying themes aren’t easily within the children’s grasp and they can’t answer the questions immediately without thinking this seems to cause great agitation. Maybe I’m wrong or old fashioned or something but I believe that one of the main things we should teach children to do is think. This process does take time and is certainly a bit risky in a teaching context (though the role of teachers is to … ?) as it can sometimes take a while and some effort to encourage/cajole/shock the children into thinking for themselves (especially if they haven’t been encouraged to do so for a while!) However, I believe these children get so much more from these sessions than when they have everything spoon fed to them (even though it ‘looks’ good!)

A teacher in Sheffield once strongly admonished me at the end of the day after I’d shared some maths and science-based stories with them and asked them some searching questions. My experience leads me to believe that the children found the sessions rewarding and interesting for that reason. As it happens during the course of the day, I’d witnessed one of the regular class ‘lessons’ during which the children essentially did absolutely nothing for an hour. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised that the children found using their brains for a while such a novel experience.

The worst offence (and I see it as that), which I have experienced, is of teachers telling me, ‘what the children are like’ while the children are there standing or sitting or working around them! In fact, these teachers seem to me to imagine that while they are telling me things like, ‘Oh this group is really slow,’ that somehow by some form of acoustic magic the children cannot either hear them or understand what they are saying! Of course they can and naturally the result of this approach is that the children conform to the stereotypes and pigeonholes they have been thumped into. How can a child be imaginative when he’s been told he’s ‘completely unimaginative’? Or show an interest in reading when she’s been labelled as ‘not interested in reading’? I can’t in these situations help wondering how the teacher would respond by being described as ‘completely unprofessional’ in front of the children she is busy humiliating. It’s even more offensive than when the teacher decides to do something else, or plain not be there when I come to give a presentation to a class. Once again I wonder what message this sends out to the children. Most likely, ‘Well our visitor’s not worth my attention, cutting up coloured paper is far more important.' Maybe I’ve said enough…

… but at least I didn’t say it in front of the class.

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Using Stories to teach science Age 9-11 (ISBN 9781909333642) is published by Hopscotch Educational Publishing.