Teaching Methods Don't Ever Change Apparently

There was an interesting letter to Chris Woodhead, former Chief Inspector of Schools in The Sunday Times this week. It was about non-teachers and those who have little recent experience of classroom practise. It basically said that those with little recent experience have no place telling teachers how to do their job. These include Carol Vorderman (the current mathematics in education czar for the government), some Ofsted inspectors and Woodhead himself.

Woodhead agreed that Vorderman's job was a farce and that those who inspect should have relevent experience, but it was his final point that made me laugh out loud. He said that despite not having taught in a classroom since 1974, good teaching methods never change. Why did it make me laugh so much? I would love to see him teach my bottom set year 10 with his 1974 routines. It would be a (hilarious) disaster.

Why do I not think that it would work? Even though he has a point that good teaching methods don't change (and it's the point he'd justify his statement with), the attitude of children has changed enormously. Even in my 10 plus years of teaching I have noticed a sea change in children's attitudes, and perhaps more importantly, the attitudes of parents.

In my second year of teaching I taught an unpleasant child called Peter. He decided that he would draw on my desks one lesson, so I set him a detention after school, giving the (arguably ridiculous, as few secondary school children head straight home) 24 hours notice required by law. Peter decided that he wouldn't do the detention, so after he'd gone home I phoned his parents and they brought him back to school, sitting there as he cleaned all my desks, rubber gloves and all. There are two points I'd like to make about this:

1. Nowadays, very few parents would actually bring their children back to school. In fact, many would argue that Peter didn't actually draw on my tables because he'd told them he hadn't (despite my witnessing the act). The detention would be made out to be harsh and unfair, and Peter wouldn't be doing it.
2. I wouldn't be allowed to make Peter clean the tables - health and safety/human rights - you name it, they'd hide behind it. The parents would probably resort to saying that it was demeaning, and I would get in trouble.

I say this with a recent incident at my current school fresh in mind. The first involved a well-known trouble-maker shouting "f***ing c***" at me across the road, unprovoked. The school were very supportive and immediately phoned the child's house to explain that he was to be excluded for 5 days. The mother, despite having not been there, denied that he'd ever done it, claiming that it was completely out of character and that he never swears at home. The 5 day exclusion stood fortunately, otherwise I would have been livid, but it was the attitude of the parent who essentially accused the school and me of lying. This is the same parent who claims that her child struggles to make friends - he appears to have plenty of friends as he hands cigarettes out in the playground.

In Woodhead's day he even had the cane to hide behind in a discipline sense, let alone the ability to detain wrong-doers at will. Now he would have to give 24 hours notice of a reasonable detention, which the child would probably fail to attend.

That leads me onto another case at our school, of an awkward child, who's parents are equally awkward. The child, who's decent at sports, is allowed to play for school teams, but can't do detentions after school. Why is this? The parent has to collect various children from different schools and detentions don't fit in with that timetable, but sporting fixtures do. Calling their bluff we offered to make detentions (of which many are pending) the same length as sporting fixtures, but still permission wasn't forthcoming. I have to say that at that point I asked myself why this child and their awkward parent weren't asked to find a school that would accept their attitude/pick-up timetable. The child is still in my class.

So good luck Chris, and your 1970s classroom ideals.