Never mind the technology, where’s the learning?

When I became an Advisory Teacher (they weren’t called consultants then) in a Local Authority back in 1990, I was pretty sure why I wanted the job. My mother, also a teacher, had said to me years before that I would never be satisfied with only making a difference to the kids in my own classes. She thought I needed more than that. Not to be arrogant, she may have been right. Anyway, I felt I would give this job a go, the interview panel thought I could do it, and on return to school, when one teacher heard I’d got the job, she said to me, “you’ll be good at that”.

Over the years, it’s been a great privilege to work with and alongside colleagues seeing their confidence to try new things with their kids grow and, feel they can stand up for themselves when they feel dis-empowered in the staffroom, staff meeting or headteacher’s office. Sometimes I’ve been thanked, sometimes seriously verbally abused, and I’ve often beaten myself up by thinking I was a miserable failure. That’s why I hope that Peter does not feel that the last few years as an independent consultant have not been effective:

“I wonder how many of the educational advice or consultancy community can boast that kind of influence? My personal answer to that question is why I am returning to teaching - a place where I feel I really can make a difference.”

Peter, if you don’t feel you’ve made a difference, they you are seriously mistaken! It’s much more difficult to see the results of your labour, as there is no obvious or immediate feedback from those you might affect directly, let alone see the indirect changes there might be on the way kids learn in the classroom of those you have inspired. One example, in my career comes to mind.

Back in 1992 I was supporting a young and enthusiastic IT Co-ordinator (and he had to be enthusiastic because he got no extra money for doing the job) who called me in because he was getting no-where with the senior management team in his school. I listened, offered some advice on ‘how to manage your superiors’ and left. A year later he moved, and in his new school he blossomed under a completely different leadership style. A few more years down the line, and he moved again to the plum ICT Co-ordinator (and best paid) job in the county. On his appointment, the head rang me and said he believed he had got the best in the area. Last year, I needed to take some international visitors to a school to see how ICT education operated in a UK school, and rang the head who was happy to help. Not only did we see a great lesson by this teacher, he was the perfect role model for what one might expect of an ICT Co-ordinator. As we left, I thanked him, and he said, it was no problem after all I’d done for him and reminding me of that advice I gave him 15 years ago. Now, I didn’t think I’d done that much at the time, but obviously his impression was different.

Peter, it’s in your nature to challenge and inspire others, including me, in so many ways. So here’s a small tribute to you - the first poetic parody I’ve written since I was in school, another thing you’ve made me sit down and do!

What Consultants make
with apologies to Taylor Mali

He says the problem with consultants is, “What’s a teacher going to learn
from someone who decided his best option in life was to give up being in the classroom?”
He reminds the other dinner guests that it’s true what they say about
consultants:
Those who can, teach; those who can’t, advise.

I decide to bite my tongue instead of his
and resist the temptation to remind the other dinner guests
that it’s also NOT true what they say about teachers.

Because we’re eating, after all, and this is polite company.

“I mean, you’re a consultant, Peter,” he says.
“Be honest. What do you make?”

And I wish he hadn’t done that
(asked me to be honest)
because, you see, I have a policy
about honesty and ass-kicking:
if you ask for it, I have to let you have it.

You want to know what I make?

I make teachers demand more of their kids than they ever thought they could.
I can inspire an educator to believe in the abilities of their students
and turn the jaded and cynical into ambassadors for learning.
How dare you not demand anything less from them than their very best.

I make teachers sit through an hour’s presentation
on the latest government initiative. Yes, there is a different way of doing things.
Yes, I’m willing to take questions.
Why won’t I let you get away with that cynical remark?
Because you’re not sceptical, you’re tired of change, that’s why.

I support the insecure teacher when I call into the headteacher’s office:
“I hope I haven’t called in at a bad time,
I just wanted to talk to you about something I saw Mrs Jones do today.
She conquered her fear of ICT. I still feel deskilled sometimes, don’t you?
It was the noblest act of courage I have ever seen.”

I make students see their teachers as learners
and see them as models of how they can be.

You want to know what I make?

I make teachers learners.
I make them confident.
I make them be inspirational.
I make them skilled at these things and realise it.
I make them blog, blog, blog.
And then I make them understand why.
I make them think “learning, learning, learning”
over and over and over again until they will never think of doing the same thing
exactly the same way again.
I make them share all their work with other teachers.
And make them seem human to their pupils.
I make them understand that if you got this (brains)
then you follow this (heart) and if someone ever tries to judge you
by what you make, you give them this (the finger).

Let me break it down for you, so you know what I say is true:
I ALSO make a goddamn difference! Just like you.

Image credit: Ewan McIntosh

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