On 22/2/12

I haven’t written a post for ages; the start of the school year has been insanely busy. I have thought of a few things I’ve wanted to write about, and so this afternoon I made the decision to write a post about the 22nd of February, 2012. It was either that or a post about how much I hate inconsequential punishments like detention…and whilst the latter topic is much more in line with the general theme of my blog, I think the former is more personal, and it’s definitely more topical, and therefore possibly (hopefully) more interesting.

So, here we are, one year on from the 22^nd February 2011, and really all ‘one year on’ means is that the earth has completed one full orbit around the sun.

Yet we recognise one year as a celebratory anniversary for many events – a year of life (which is definitely a great achievement, for a baby or young child especially), or a year of marriage/partnership (also quite a cool achievement, assuming that things have gone well in the relationship of course). But when it’s a year of being without someone close to you, or some big horrid event that screwed over a large number of people, it’s not a celebration, obviously, and therefore it’s not fun, or enjoyable. And so about two weeks ago I realised that I really didn’t really need the media hype around the 22^nd of February 2012.

The impending gloom of it was obvious – the mass media love a good grief-fest, and it’s not like we’ve been living in The Land of Chocolate down here. So this week, I tried to avoid the news (which is very hard these days when you have Wifi and a typical, modern-day, mild internet addiction). When I flicked onto Facebook on Wednesday 22^nd February, I flicked away again very quickly. And I didn’t really need, or want, two minutes of silence at 12:51pm, along with 2800 other people in my school. Having said that, the embarrassed, smirking faces of the 13 year old boys in my class during that two minutes was actually quite comforting – it made me feel like I wasn’t the only one who wasn’t really into standing there and being coerced into reflecting on stuff that I’d already thought about over and over again.

If two minutes silence and memorials and ceremonies work for people – to help them ease the pain, to remember those who were lost, to remind them of the plight of those left behind, to think about the future and be hopeful - that’s cool, but different people deal with stuff in different ways, and at different times. And when you are living in Christchurch, it’s actually really hard to forget what happened. Personally, I don’t need to be reminded. Because every day I drive along munted streets, past munted houses and businesses, and I miss the flat, boring normality of pre-quake Christchurch. Every week I swim in an overcrowded, 25 metre pool, dodging children that streak across in front of me and occasionally yelling at kids who stop and hang out on the lane ropes. I miss the large 50 metre pool that I could swim up and down in at my leisure – those were days when I, occasionally, got a whole lane to myself (which is ridiculously luxurious, I know…there’s nothing luxurious about Christchurch pools now). Every time I pull into my drive and hear the clunk-clunk of the loose slabs of driveway under my car I am reminded that my property needs work and that I am most probably stuck here in Christchurch for quite some time, because who knows when EQC will deliver, and who wants to buy a slightly-munted house two blocks from the red zone in east Christchurch in the next 10 years anyway? Don’t get me wrong – I love my house and I (we) had planned to stay here a while, but when you buy a house and the land that it sits on (and you buy insurance too - I thought we got it in case I left the stove on…), it’s very hard to comprehend the possibility of thousands of 2s, 3s, 4s, 5s, a handful of 6s, and a 7 attempting to rip their way through your property over the course of 18 months, and then consequently being stuck in it for the unforeseeable future. And, most horribly, every time I go to the doctor these days, I am reminded of my old doctors’ surgery, The Clinic, that relocated into the CTV building not long before the 6.3. I’d been a patient there for over 8 years because the doctors and nurses were so empathetic and people-focused. It’s hard not to think about those who are gone when I sit in the waiting room, waiting for my new doctor to call me in.

Everyone in this city has a story and has been affected in some way or other – some much more than others, I realise that. And I’m one of the lucky ones in terms of how little the quakes have affected my life. So I would hate to tell people what to feel, or how to deal with what they are feeling, or even when to grieve and reflect. And that’s what irked me about February 22^nd 2012.

But I want to end this post on a positive note. One thing that I did appreciate about February the 22^nd was the flowers-in-road-cones thing. I came across an Avonside Girls’ High girl on Tuesday evening putting together amazing posies of ferns and flowers in the road cones just up the road. The road-cones were transformed from ugly, muddy, sand-covered, plastic points into vibrant vases of beautiful flower arrangements. Sometimes – no, often – teenagers are really awesome.

Happy HAPPY New Year!

The first few months of the year are a great time to be a teacher, I reckon. Obviously, the year begins for NZ teachers with a lovely, long, summer holiday. Often, the period that begins just before Christmas and runs through to mid January is the only time of the year when I actually stop doing schoolwork, stop thinking about school, and relax. Those school ‘holidays’ that occur throughout the year in between terms don’t really suffice – for me, and many other teachers, they usually involve catching up on lost sleep, marking and planning. So, I try to spend my summer holiday enjoying the good weather, reading, watching stuff, playing games, catching up with friends and family, and organising stuff that I never managed to organise during the school year. I always spend way too much money in the summer holidays but I’m OK with that because I am generally quite stingy throughout the year anyway (alarmingly, it’s much easier to be frugal when you are working a 50 hour week, despite the cost of transport and general living).

By February we are back at school and getting stuck into term one, which is by far my favourite term. It’s my favourite for so many reasons. Firstly, I’m fresh and well-rested from the holiday, so I have energy and enthusiasm like I just don’t have any other time of the year (I must admit, sometimes I get to term four and I’m so completely and utterly exhausted I actually wonder if I’ll make it to the end…I’ve always made it, but sometimes it’s incredibly painful). Secondly, I have usually spent mid to late January planning, and that planning is usually pretty good quality planning because I’m alert and fresh and full of ideas. I’m organised, and I’m also super-eager to get back into the classroom. For me personally, the greatest, most enjoyable thing about teaching is being in the classroom with the students; for some/many teachers, it is the planning that brings them the most joy in the job (I’m yet to meet anyone who says it’s the marking/admin…). So, being an extroverted, fairly well-organised people-person, I am usually itching to get back into the classroom by the time school starts. I love that first week where you meet your students; there is lot of pressure to set clear expectations regarding work habits and behaviour, as well as learning over 100 new names, but I really enjoy sussing my students out, and I enjoy watching them suss me out too. This is where, as a teacher, you develop those teacher-student relationships that are so fundamental in the classroom, and this is where you set the tone for the year. Although it can be very challenging, and at times a bit stressful, setting up your classes, it is usually very rewarding. Amusingly, this part of the year is where those clichés that teachers seem to like to repeat are trotted out, for example, ‘start as you mean to go on’ (I quite like this one actually – consistency makes sense to me) and ‘don’t smile before Easter’ (bollocks to that – I’m a smiley person and I couldn’t actually not smile for 4 months - that would be insane. Also, students appreciate warm, smiley teachers. Who wants to sit in front of a surly, agro grump for a whole year?! There are definitely times when you have to be a grumpy teacher, but fortunately it’s not most of the time).

One of the great things about term one is that the students are alert, energetic and engaged in the classroom. Often I hear students return to school and talk about how they were bored during the holidays. Almost all of them are eager and willing to learn when term one begins. They see the new year as a fresh start - usually with a new teacher in each of their subjects - and often they have their own personal goals that they hope to achieve throughout the year in your subject. And I enjoy trying to mould my students into having good work habits in English, especially the Year 9s and Year 11s who are entering a new, rather intimidating system and are usually very keen to take direction. In my experience, this is also the time of year when you are less likely to see depressing stuff like truancy and disengagement amongst specific groups that underachieve in our education system. It is the honeymoon period for the students and the teachers, and it’s just so, so lovely.

This is the point in the year when I feel most hopeful and most inspired. I want 2012 to be a good year for me and my students. I especially want it to be a good year for everyone involved in education in Canterbury. The ground is still shaking, obviously, but I do hope that we can have an uninterrupted year of teaching and learning, 'cos we need and deserve it.

So I guess I better start doing some planning soon...

On being a partner, not a wife

Having been with my partner for almost 12 years now, I can honestly say intimate relationships are great. They are not without their ups and downs, of course, and certainly not without considerable effort from both parties, but, ultimately we have the same rights as married couples (having lived together for 3 years) and we, to a large extent, live the same sort of life as a married couple (whatever that might involve..). So it’s all pretty sweet really, as one half of a hetero, de facto couple. Except for dealing with society’s reactions to our relationship status. And by society I mean family, friends, colleagues and anyone else who thinks it’s their business. So, in this blog post, I make the issue of de facto relationships your business, because the one thing I’ve found increasingly irritating over the last nearly-12 years is society’s perceptions of people in de facto relationships and I do feel the need to discuss this topic. I will briefly outline what has irked me and why it’s irked me. Yes, this is not teaching-related, but it’s the holidays, so indulge me.

But every little girl wants to be a princess!

Right from the point where my partner and I realised we wanted to stay together, we decided we didn’t want to get married (for many, many reasons, but that’s a whole other blog post/10,000 word essay). So, the first annoying comments I remember were in response to me politely saying we wouldn’t ever get married. “Oh you’ll change your mind when you’re older”, “but everyone wants to get married!” and “are you scared of commitment?” were commonly directed at us (me in particular, being the female half of the couple, and obviously some sort of freak). Well, no I haven’t, and no I didn’t, and no I’m not. We’d made a decision to stay together but not to get married; this decision undoubtedly involved some/a lot of thought, discussion and commitment, so surely it shouldn’t be met with disbelieving or condescending comments. I mean, how rude and stupid would it be if someone announced their engagement and I was all, “Oh, you’ll change your mind in the next 6 months”..? Fortunately, most of my harassers have given up on this tack, which is just as well because I couldn’t handle a lifetime of it.

Won’t somebody please think of the children!

The second annoyance is possibly the most offensive:

“But what about when you have children?!”

Er, yeah…what about it? Firstly, that’s a massive assumption in itself, but how would not being married actually affect the children? That’s my response question. Very few people answer. The few answers have gone something like this: “But how will you choose whose surname they get?” and/or “They might get bullied at school”. On reflection, these are responses are rather amusing, if offensive. Choosing a surname for a child is not going to be the biggest challenge of parenting. I mean, they can have one, or the other, or both. And if they don’t like one, or the other, or both, they can change it when they reach 18. And whilst bullying in itself is definitely a concern, I doubt that ‘unmarried parents’ is a pressing social issue in East Christchurch that leads to bullying in the school playgrounds. I live in a street surrounded by decile 1 and 2 schools; my future children (assuming I have any) are not going to be bullied because their parents aren’t married. And let it be noted that I’m not even convinced that children are bullied for such pathetically upper-middle class reasons, but if they are, and if I lived in a more affluent area, I wouldn’t ever send my children to such a school – any school that couldn’t deal with such things would no doubt be both elitist and negligent. Also, bullying of any sort is unacceptable, not just bullying because of parental relationship status.

And now for the more minor quibbles I have with people’s assumptions and attitudes about defacto relationships. These tend to be more semantic, but still have a veneer of sexism/hierarchy…

It’s hard to explain this one without revealing names, so I’ll use pseudonyms instead. The de facto couple (my partner and I) are named Mr Stripey Tiger and Ms Spotty Leopard, respectively. As Ms S. Leopard, I receive at least one phone call a week (often from telemarketers, although recently had one from EQC...just as well I was in a forgiving mood or I might never see any work done to my house) that goes like this:

Caller: “Hi, is that Mrs Tiger?”

Me: “No sorry, there is no Mrs Tiger at this house.”

Caller: “Oh, um…what about a Mr Leopard?”

Me: “No sorry, there is no Mr Leopard either.”

…and then…

Me (if I’m in a forgiving mood): “But there IS a Ms Leopard or a Mr Tiger here.”

Why on earth would anyone make the assumption that I’ve taken my partner’s name? We are not married and this is very clear in everything we do as individuals, and in all documentation, including the white pages! And even if we were married (which we never will be, but just to illustrate my point), who’s to say I’d take his name?! It’s not the freaking law that the woman has to take the man’s name. It’s not the 1950s any more; women are allowed to keep their original identities once they’ve been married (albeit that our surnames often come from our fathers, blergh). Ultimately, there never has been a ‘Mrs Tiger’, and there never will be!

“But ‘partner’ doesn’t sound very romantic.” OK, well, I like it, and isn’t that the main thing? To me, it implies a long-term, permanent relationship (unlike ‘girlfriend’ and ‘boyfriend’ which seems more temporary to me – I know some long-term partners who do use these terms though and that’s cool), it implies equality, and it doesn’t have the historical connotations that the words ‘husband’ and ‘wife’ have. I do suspect that some people (ie. homophobes) don’t like the word because they associate it with gay couples, although I doubt anyone I’m even vaguely close to would actually come out and say this to me. Most people know that prejudice is up there with war, the term ‘PC’, and Tony Blair, on my list of ‘things I hate’.

So other than the above (and most likely a few other social annoyances I can’t think of right now as I write this…), de facto partnerships are pretty sweet. So come on society, show us a little respect!

It was to be a post-election, post-marking dissection, but I'm way too tired and munted to not write a post....

So the election results were predictably horrid; why on earth anyone living in a household earning under $100,000 a year would vote for National is beyond me... But I know that electorates and countries swing back and forth between the left and the right, and that turnout was low, and I know that an ‘attractive’ personality is pretty important to many people, and that national disasters and World Cups can have interesting effects on the general populace’s voting behaviour, so I can accept the results, as vomitous as they might be. But I must admit, I didn’t anticipate the recent announcement that the government is keen to give charter schools a go; I have been anticipating National Standards at years 9 and 10, as well as pay disputes, resourcing cuts etc. etc….but oh how generous I was with my expectations of the Nat/Banks/Dunne government; they are obviously much meaner than I could ever have imagined.

I was planning to wait until I’d finished my marking before I made another blog post, but I’m there’s some scary stuff being proposed by the government. So, instead of dissecting the bollocks that was the election results and the horrors of marking hundreds of papers in a short space of time, I’m simply going to make a quick post centered around why charter schools are not a good idea. In fact, I’m not even going to discuss much, as my two cents is really more like 0.002 cents because so much has been said by teachers, principals and the general public over the last 24 hours or so. I guess I’m more spreading the word in this post, than creating it.

Charter schools are, to summarise, private schools that are state-funded yet have the freedom to teach their own curriculum and hire and pay teachers based on their own standards. They can be started by any community group, including businesses, and they’re allowed to raise funds however they want. There’s been a lot of good discussion amongst my friends, and their friends, on Facebook about how they work and how (in)effective they are, so I’m reluctant to explain things when someone else can do it so much better. So, check out these links:

Action:

http://www.radionz.co.nz/news/political/92973/national-act-agree-to-adopt-controversial-us-school-model

Reaction and analysis:

http://gordoncampbell.scoop.co.nz/2011/12/06/gordon-campbell-on-charter-schools/

http://www.stuff.co.nz/the-press/news/6096775/Unease-at-charter-school-trial-in-city

It can be argued that integrated schools in NZ are not entirely dissimilar to charter schools in terms of the amount of freedom they have to do whatever they want. But as far as I can tell, charter schools are yet another step along that path to a teacher-hating, student-mind-numbing path of ‘education’. And as a resident of East Christchurch, where Banks and Key want to ‘trial’ these schools, I’d have to say, the whole thing is scary and crazy, but not unpredictable in hindsight.

You don’t have to be a genius (whatever that might involve; I’m thinking it might involve being taking lots of IQ tests) to figure out that charter schools are not going to ‘fix’ low-performing schools in low socio-economic areas. You don’t have to be a genius to see how they could become severely corrupt institutions. But obviously, Trevor McIntyre, principal of Christchurch Boys’ High School and Thomas Proctor, principal of Christchurch Rudolph Steiner School believe that for-profit companies can provide a better education for people than the state can. I, as well as thousands of other education professionals up and down the country, seriously doubt that belief because there’s no real evidence to suggest it’s true: http://www.nzherald.co.nz/nz/news/article.cfm?c_id=1&objectid=10771435

So it’s a big BOOOOOOO to those two principals from me..

Anyway, I’m looking forward to my next PPTA meeting. I trust my union to fight this rubbish and I urge everyone to be ready for a fight (although the whole thing seems so ridiculous, I know…). I encourage any new and/or non-member teachers to join the union. Interesting times are ahead.

Also, I strongly recommend at this point watching episode 19, season 6 of The Simpsons (‘Lisa’s Wedding’), again, for light relief. There’s a Simpsons line for every occasion and a Simpsons line always lightens the mood. I fear I may be watching that episode (amongst numerous other scenes set in Springfield Elementary School) over and over again for at least the next three years… No change there then…

Election ‘11

 

I’ve wanted to write a blog post for a while, but I’ve ummmed and ahhhed (sp?) over what to make a post about. Election years are always really interesting and crazy. An election year after various natural (and in some cases, ‘human-made’) disasters, and a home-country Rugby World Cup win are even crazier. But, the various things that have concerned me this past month have, on the whole, not been about teaching, nor earthquakes, and certainly not about rugby. What has concerned me most is jobs, or lack thereof (paid ones I mean; unpaid work is a whole other issue). The rebuild of Christchurch is also very high up there (particularly east Christchurch), but this blog post will be about jobs.

At my school this year, a CAPNA was narrowly avoided. Nonetheless, the financial squeeze will be felt in my school next year, as there will be both bigger classes and less classes to teach. This, of course, affects non-permanent staff, both teaching and non-teaching. Some of my colleagues are now furiously looking for work. I have family also looking for work right now – in fact, they’ve been looking furiously for three months. I also have numerous friends and acquaintances furiously looking for work right now. I have friends who will be finishing their study soon, and will furiously begin looking for work within the next few months. I feel like I’m surrounded by people looking for work (furiously, I might add). This is the first time in a long time that I have known finding work to be so difficult for so many people.

Times are tough; people want to work, they want to be able to provide for themselves and their families, but there just aren’t enough jobs. Aotearoa/New Zealand hasn’t had such a high rate of unemployment for such a long time, and unemployment has been well over 6% all year. So what is the National government doing to help the jobless? Not a lot, as far as I can tell. And what saddens me, is that there’s been an awful lot of ‘kick-‘em-while-they’re-down’-beneficiary bashing rhetoric being bandied around by the Nats, by the media and by the general public. Not that I’m surprised, per se - the Nats hate the poor. But the scary thing is that this nasty rhetoric will most likely turn into policy under National after this election.

So, I guess when I’m voting this election, jobs is one of the things on the top of my mind. I want my friends and family and colleagues and acquaintances who are looking for work to find paid jobs, soon – they desperately need the income (not that every job necessarily pays a decent amount, but lets assume that it should/hope that it does) and they need to feel wanted and worthy (again, not that a paying job necessarily does this, but let’s make the assumption that it should/hope that it does). Not having a job when you really want a job is a horrible situation to be in. I never want to be in that situation again. I guess, though, at some point in my life, it’s very possible that I will be. But for now, I work on in my job. I do not take my good fortune for granted.

And whilst Anne Tolley is a horrid Minister of Education, she’s not actually as horrid as those who are in charge of social welfare, or of the country’s finances. I mean, she IS just as horrid as them, but the effects of her actions are much less punitive on teachers and students, as opposed to say, the actions of Paula Bennet and Bill English on people who are unemployed, or on very low wages (I realise I may regret saying this if National Standards are introduced to secondary schools…).

So, this election I won’t be voting National (duh, heh) because I want a government that has empathy for everyone, not just rich businessman. I want my family, friends, colleagues and acquaintances to find work soon, and I don't want them, or anyone for that matter, to be vilified whilst they are looking for work. And I really don't want three more years of a National government.

My two cents on class sizes

Class sizes are a hot topic right now. Kate Gainsford, PPTA President and teacher, wants class sizes to become at election issue. In contrast, Education Minister Ann Tolley, who has no real experience or understanding of education, just spouts off whatever John Hattie tells her, and unfortunately he has told her that class sizes aren’t a priority. This blog post will briefly explore why class size does matter and why governments should reduce class sizes for teachers. 

I know that John Hattie’s work has shown that reducing class sizes has minimal effect on the achievement outcomes of students. I do understand his research; it’s really interesting research, and I can actually relate on a personal level to his findings about class sizes because the two most challenging, stressful classes I ever taught had less than 20 students in each of them. But when Hattie looks at student achievement he doesn’t actually look at teacher welfare in relation to student achievement, and I do believe that taking teacher welfare into consideration is a fundamental aspect of a good education system.

Below are three major reasons why, in my opinion, class size does matter, and why classes in both primary and secondary schools should be capped at 25 students:

1)      Marking. A teacher who has 35 students compared to a teacher who has 25 students in their English class has a lot more marking to do. Marking takes time, so the larger the class, the more marking there is to do in each assessment. This means that teachers are less inclined to run assessments, such as formatives, and they are also more likely to spend their non-contacts and planning time (and evenings and weekends) marking, as opposed to planning. Ah assessment, you always seem to pop up in my blog posts, grrr.

2)      Feedback. Right at the top of Hattie’s effect sizes table is feedback; feedback is the most important factor in improving student achievement. But how good a quality feedback can a teacher actually give each student when they have five classes of 30-35 students? In a secondary school, period times are 50 minutes to an hour long. That’s not enough time to give students daily, individualised, verbal feedback. Similarly, there are only 24 hours in a day, and that’s not enough for the teachers of those classes to give high quality, written feedback for every student, every day because teachers have to eat and sleep and organise finances and families, just like everyone else. Having taught classes of both 35 and 20 (and everything in between), I can honestly say that I’m much more likely to be inclined to give quality feedback on a regular basis for a smaller-sized class.

3)      Last, but definitely not least: Teacher workload. Teachers are over-worked, so why do governments wish to make teacher workloads even bigger with even more students to educate and assess in each class? Do we actually want teachers to have mental breakdowns?! Do we really want to drive out people from the profession who are passionate about educating young people?!? Because when governments under-fund schools to the point where a school has 35 Year 13 students sitting in an English class, those amazing teachers who for so long have struggled so stay on top of their workload will go elsewhere for a job - possibly to a richer, more well-resourced (possibly private) school, where class sizes are smaller - or they will leave the profession, because there’s only so much stress a human body can actually take.

I know there are numerous other reasons why class sizes are important (for example, guaranteeing authenticity of students’ work for one – I realised this yesterday, whilst discussing plagiarism with lovely teacher friends; how likely are you to pick up on a student who has plagiarised their Level 3 research report when there are 35 students in your class? Less likely that if you have 20 students in the class… Also, which schools actually have classrooms with space for 35 desks? I bet there isn’t one school in the entire country with 35 computers in a computer lab…) and I could go on and on and on, but I won’t because super-lengthy blog posts are quite annoying and I believe in the art of being concise (heh).

So, there’s just a few reasons why class size counts. Obviously, Tolley has no empathy nor respect for teachers; Hattie possibly does but his research doesn't really show it, and Gainsford is working hard in the fight for both teachers and students.

I know who I won’t be voting for this election.

The Goss on NATional Standards

So, a little birdie told me that you-know-who is eager to introduce National Standards to Years 9 and 10. And by ‘a little birdie’ I mean a widely respected and renowned NZ educator who is only two degrees of separation away from she-who-must-not-be-named. When I heard this, I was gobsmacked and felt the scar on my forehead burn (actually, it was hot and had been in a 3-hour PD session in a small meeting room so I had a slight headache and the scar on my forehead didn’t actually hurt because the accident happened when I was 7…). And then I thought about it some more, and I thought, yeah, that sounds like Ann Tolley (shhhhh!!!), and I felt kinda head-achy.

In this blog-post, I’m going to explore the issue of National Standards, which were introduced to primary schools in 2010. I’m not going to explain how National Standards work, because it’s pretty straight-forward and you can find information here. Instead I will discuss whether or not National Standards would be useful and how they might function (dysfunction) in secondary schools.

As an ideal, National Standards are useful in the sense that they identify where a student is at and where they need to go next – and that’s what assessment is about, the ‘what next’ and the ‘how’. Having said that, e-asTTle does this very well already and is utilised by most primary schools and by an increasing number of secondary schools.

But the problems with National Standards are many and they are very complex. One problem is when children are compared to each other. For example, many children begin school being able to write their name, the alphabet, count and identify colours. Some children, however, do not (and there are a variety of reasons why this might happen). So no child enters on a level playing field and automatically students are labelled: ‘bright’, ‘gifted’, ‘talented’, or alternatively, ‘low-ability’, ‘challenged’, or ‘thick’ (yes, teachers still use that word). So, immediately, students and their parents are made to feel like crap. Awesome. Oh, and then these stats are used to create league tables, which ultimately means that schools will be compared against each other (not, funnily enough, against a ‘National Standard’.) And league tables suck, obviously.

Another major problem with National Standards is that they are assessment, not teaching and learning. And pouring money and resources into assessment doesn’t actually make better teachers, because assessing is not teaching, and although good assessment does provide teachers and students with good data on where to go next, it doesn’t mean that we all know how to get there. There’s nothing more irritating as a teacher than going to Professional Development on assessment (which, unfortunately, I seem to do an awful lot).

So, in a secondary school context, I shudder to think how National Standards might play out. Here are my predictions:

Firstly, it would cost a lot. All that money that could be spent on improving teaching and reducing class sizes would be spent on preparing teachers to do more assessment. And I think that’s a really stink way to spend money that’s allocated to improving teaching and learning.

Secondly, it would take up a lot of time. Every time there is a change in assessment practices e.g. Standards re-alignment ,we have to spend hours and hours attending PD to get us up to speed.  Fun? No. Useful? Only vaguely. Time-wasting? Yes. Obviously teachers are over-worked already.

Thirdly - how the hell would it actually work?!? Secondary schools students are taught in subject classes, with some exceptions in integrated classes and in alternative education (and I know there are lots of dumb assumptions about students in the way that secondary schools function, but I haven’t heard from a little birdie that Tolley’s going to overhaul the system completely). So, who’d be responsible for the literacy? I shudder to think. I know that all teachers are literacy teachers (because unless you don’t teach and assess student via the use of language, you are a literacy teacher) but I bet Anne Tolley doesn’t. Just the thought of adding more assessment to an English teacher’s workload makes me feel a little ill.

Fourthly, the beautiful thing about teaching Year 9 and 10 is the lack of formal assessment; it’s so great that we don’t have to hand back students their work with a big Achieved or Not Achieved on it (unfortunately, my school does do this and it sucks majorly and I am forever complaining about it to various members of middle and senior management, heh) – instead we assess them against the curriculum. We can actually treat them as individuals and plan lessons to cater for their needs, as opposed to planning programmes that they complete because they have to gain 18 credits in the subject or they won’t get NCEA level blah (I know we are not supposed to do this but let’s be honest about the role of assessment in secondary schools, eh – it’s really dominating).

Secondary schools don’t need more assessment imposed on them from above. So, I hope like hell that this rumour is simply a rumour and not going to eventuate in anything. I just wish we had the power to vanquish the Dark Lord that is Tolley; oh wait, we do - it’s called voting in the election...