Occasional Tales

Boxing Day: some are sick; some just have the day off. In normal countries we’d have the day off today, but this isn’t a normal country, nor one which respects weekends as something distinct from holidays and inviolate. Most of us were back at school. Mr Looms, on the other hand, was absent because – allegedly – he’s sick. I was lucky in that my one mostly free day remained my mostly free day and I was able to deal with various matters. But I could also have ended up losing all that precious time because of Mr Looms. There’s something decidedly papal about him. The Catholic Encyclopaedia tries to portray popes as nice, pious chaps, but ends up making them sound like a bunch of pervs. Mr Looms is like the pope. He’s desperate to be liked, but ultimately comes across as odd, being a little too interested in everyone else’s business and not, it seems, being aware of social boundaries. I suspect his classes and their form teachers picked up on his oddness, which isn’t offens

But you are. His Lordship phoned Mr Looms yesterday and informed him that he wouldn’t be returning; nor would he be moved to another school. As far as I could tell, Mr Looms was unlikely to remain here. He’d been whining a lot about the place as if he expected all to be in accordance with his idealised expectations. Nonetheless, this is another instance of a bunch of irritating 16-year-olds dictating who gets to work and who doesn’t, and Mr Looms has my sympathy. He seems to have rubbed his pupils the wrong way, and their form teacher also seems to have had it in for him. I was wonder whether Class β, who were particular pests early on in the term, might be responsible for his downfall. Correction. Mr Looms got the boot because of his frequent absences, which could well have been self-inflicted on some occasions. The little darlings probably did complain, but they’re not really responsible for his dismissal. I thought he might scarper during the winter holiday, but he’s retur

Class now? Since when? I normally see Pre-AL α 8th period on a Monday. I’m sitting in the office lamenting the brevity between periods when one of the students arrives and informs me that we have class. In spite of checking the revised timetable later on, I find that there’d been no such change indicated on my copy. It appears that some of this year’s Pre-AL students are as overwrought about test results as their contemporaries were two years ago. I can see that the speaking exams are going to be a trial for some of them. It was all happiness in the office. Mr T was sick again (making me seem the model of healthy vitality) and complaining about the absence of café culture, and the perceived unfriendliness of the locals. Mr B and the Cyberman were devising parodies of songs to mock the shortcomings of the city. Mrs S was pissed off at Mr S for being a dick when she needed him to be helpful. In other words, it’s the shit which happens at about this time of year when the di

Isn’t quite over. 120 pieces of writing; about 16,000 words; a little over a week. It will haunt me in my dreams tonight as I have pieces of paper chasing after me while I fend them off with a red pen. The average for the Ass classes is probably about 15. That’s probably a little on the low side, but not by much and after all the crap I’ve had to wade through, I’m disinclined to care. I dished out a zero to mute Myrtle for plagiarism, and I’m sure there were others who deserved the same fate. In fact, I think it was mute Myrtle who happened to have an exchange with self-deluding Sid during the course of the exam. (Unfortunately conditions for the writing part of the exam were less than ideal and students had to sit in their usual configuration. I’m sure there was a deal more cheating than I was able to observe. Again, I don’t care because Chinese students are so rubbish at cheating that it does them no favours.) Self-deluding Sid initially seemed quite capable, but has turne

The writing is gooder; the ideas are worser. I’ve finished going through Ass β’s writing. I haven’t actually given it any marks just yet, but have made comments about the four parts so that I can go back later and do the business. They’re still going to end up with fairly good marks for language, but the marking criteria for SL are so nice that ‘ Everybody has won, and all must have prizes.’ It’s very hard not to get prizes. They’ll also get reasonable marks for message, although I must keep an eye on my comments where I’ve observed that the writing is disorganised. The one part where they could be punished, format, is also worth the fewest marks. Again, the InterBac programme aims to flatter because for the sort of money it charges, it needs to feign results which will please the mummies and daddies who are spending copious sums of money on their imbeciles. However, my remarks about the parts of their writing should leave them in no doubt as to their true competence. They a

Or, the Rise of Mr Foucault. We got a mail message telling us that the Reichsmarschal was being shipped out for some unspecified reason, which means that Mr Foucault will be our temporary Führer for the next few weeks. Not a fun day today. I had two long writing tests to administer, and a had a full afternoon. In fact, I now see all of my classes on a Friday. And for that reason, I can’t really be bothered writing any more.

There will be some notting. We had a staff meeting during morning exercise time, which is far more sensible than having meetings at lunchtime. It was a repeat screening of yesterday’s departmental meeting. Students shouldn’t be allowed to sleep in class. True. I think it’s rude of them to do so, but Chinese students are so stupid that telling them not to sleep is only effective for the brief period of time it takes them to forget that they were told not to do so. Then they must be told again. “This class is boring,” they’d like to say. Perhaps if they participated actively and displayed some degree of self-motivation instead of cabbage-like idiocy, they’d find it less boring. By the same token, not every class is going to be screamingly interesting. Most never are, but are pedestrian steps on the way to some end. We should give them homework once a week. I have given them some homework over the past couple of weeks, but have only been gradually clearing it away because o

Who cares? I got exclamation marks!!! I was waiting for the lift when I remembered I’d left today’s Powerpoint presentation on my laptop, but had no way of getting back inside, restarting the machine, and copying the file without losing too much time. It didn’t matter. I did the whole thing manually. Got to school and Mr Foucault is reminding us that we start at 7.25am. “No,” we said, “we start at 7.30.” No, it’s 7.25 . “There was this other mail message which not everyone got.” After some running this way and that, we started at 7.30am. Forty minute classes really are too short. I’d planned the timing quite carefully, but could not get everything done. I’ve started showing the Ass classes The Social Network, but thought I ought to check the English subs beforehand. Oops! They were not done to a professional standard. No subs for the Asses. I expect all the little darlings will be watching the film with Chinese subs and ripping reviews off the Internet for Friday’s writing.

Or how much more intelligent I am than you? I had the Ass classes write a review because it’s one of the InterBac text types which they might have to reproduce in the exam. I don’t know if there’s an official structure for this text type. I pulled a model off the Net which consisted of four parts: intro – summary – critical assessment – conclusion. I knew the critical assessment section would probably crash and burn, which it has in the reviews I’ve read so far. It’s ended up being an extended version of the summary, and with a few exceptions, I don’t expect to see anything else. I’ve already had one instance of plagiarism this year, and I’ve now had another. The review in question started off ineptly enough as Plagiarising Penny (aka Snoozy Suzy) commenced by announcing that she was going to talk about some graphic novel. Did I say, “Write me a speech”? No, but don’t let that stop you from being an intellectual embarrassment. I had doubts about the verb tenses in the fi

Less lunch. We were supposed to have switched to our new timetable this week. After last night’s meeting, Mr V gave me my new timetable, which was new for less than 24 hours. The time of the first class has now been restored to its usual insanely early hour, but it also means that ten minutes have been lost from lunchtime, which is annoying because the actual time available starts looking quite cramped once I lop about five to ten minutes off just to get back to the office. In addition to that, I’m going to have two extra classes a week to make up for the time lost because classes are now so short. I don’t have a huge problem with that apart from the extra classes being a.) last thing on Thursday and Friday, and b.) standalone classes. Forty minutes is enough to do very little at most. I certainly don’t want pre-AL β last thing in the afternoon. It was observation day today. I thought, overall, that things went a little better, but I’d say the vegetables did nothing when I a

What caused it this time? It was morning exercise time when my eyesight started going funny. This was a serious migraine, which came on rapidly, and the aura lasted for some time. What caused it? It could be another non-weekend which has been vacuumed up by preparation. It could be forthcoming observations. It could be the presence of the Reichsmarschal. There were hints of some potential problem. The top of my right shoulder was sore last night (although the migraine hit the left-hand side of my head), and my back is sore around my right shoulder blade. This morning my eyesight was a little too sharp. Even so, there doesn’t seem to be much I can do about these things. If the signs are there, what might stave off an attack? Paracetamol? Ibuprofen? Would it even be right to use such medicines in anticipation of a possible migraine? This latest bout of migraines (four this month) means that I’ve had the equivalent of one a month this year. This is a Bad Thing™. I’v

It’s enough to send a chap east. Yesterday one of my colleagues who, in spite of the brevity of the term so far, has been vocal in his inclination to go to the airport and leap straight on the next plane flying out to Sanity, hinted that he’d made up his mind that enough was enough. Today he officially announced that he was buggering off at the end of term. His two reasons for departing were inadequate remuneration and the utter hopelessness of teaching the Upper Sixth. It seems that Mr Bradford has expenses and that what he’s paid doesn’t cover it. I can understand why he’d find the Upper Sixth soul-destroying. That’s the reason I won’t go near them. Do we not get paid enough? Frankly, no. I may get paid a Western salary, but I’ve just reached the average salary in the UK and if I did have expenses, I wouldn’t be earning enough. I also feel insulted that it’s going to take me another six years to earn what my colleague who teaches economics is currently paid. It’s not that

“What? There’s meant to be a difference?” The news today was depressing and stress-inducing. The boss is going to be absent for a couple of weeks for personal reasons. In the meantime, Reichsmarshal (spelling?) Göring is going to be temporarily taking over. The Reichsmarshal is an inflexible bastard who, it seems, can’t really tell the difference between pupils and colleagues. The two classes have simply merged into the category “pupils”. I don’t especially like school teachers because when the government banged on about education, universities still suffered from a financial kicking so that instead of lecturing, I’ve ended up at the arse-end of teaching, viz. EFL teaching. I shan’t repeat my usual laments since I only have time to write a short entry, but I think the Reichsmarshal is like a lot of school teachers: the government said education often enough and these people thought they were important. The more egotistical ones strut up and down in their jackboots, seek high

Are we feeling thick today? When the vultures… I mean, AQMs descend next week, they’re meant to be observing Ass 2. There are some good students in the class, but as a group they’re a bunch of lazy asses. I’m trying to guide them through review writing in such a way that they’ve done a kind of first draft before they… All right, I won’t pretend that their first draft won’t be all glued together in pretence that it’s also their final draft. But the idea was that they’d build up an article step-by-step. They’d do all the donkey work first, and then give me something which rises above the usual level of idiocy which classes seem determined to produce. I do have one other “trick” up my sleeve, but I’m not sure it’ll really work. But that’s not going to happen even although I’ve warned them that this particular type of writing is going to be in the test.

Let school stay at school. Although I think the migraine yesterday is connected with my stiff shoulder, which, in turn, is my current physical manifestation of stress (ten years ago it was tingling on the left-hand side of the back of my neck), I also wonder to what extent it may have been triggered by having to do some planning at home. Instead of arsing around online or in some other fashion, I was putting together a couple of Powerpoint presentations. If my Friday wasn’t so inimical to preparing for the following week, I’d leave school behind; but this year, I can’t. If I don’t do something at the weekend, then I won’t be properly prepared for the week after. The problem is that when I should be relaxing, I’m getting bogged down in Powerpoint presentations, my weekend is disappearing, and I’m being paid even less per hour. I’m sure that subconsciously my necessary diligence is probably having a negative effect on my mental well-being as I try to get a little ahead of the

Another bloody migraine. I’m back in the office between classes this morning, looking at some Learner Diaries, when my eyes start going funny. This is the third migraine in about two to three weeks. Why did it happen? Not sure. It may be a consequence of a sore shoulder and lying too hard on it when I had a snooze yesterday afternoon. Fortunately this was a mild attack, but it leaves me with one anti-nausea tablet and two months before I’m likely to be seeing a real doctor. Migraines don’t always advertise beforehand and I have had others which came calling when I otherwise felt perfectly all right.

I’m bashing out a Powerpoint presentation. I don’t get paid well enough to work after school or at weekends, but because the distribution of classes throughout the week this year is crap (viz. insufficient time between most classes), I’ve started bringing textbooks home at the weekend and doing some preparation in advance. I shouldn’t be spending most of my Saturday doing such things. I shouldn’t be spending any of my Saturday doing such things because, as we all know, the more we do, the less recompense we’re getting. Employers appear to believe our jobs are our lives. No, they’re not. I don’t hate my job exactly, but I don’t like it, either. I do it out of necessity. When I was one of the long-term unemployed, I found I didn’t need a job to keep myself gainfully occupied because I had other things to do. It’s a pity those other things weren’t things from which I could earn a living. I didn’t spend my days slacking off relaxing myself [sic! fnarr fnarr!], but as I said, no one

Thou which art so annoying. In theory, I’m meant to be objective when I’m marking students’ writing. I do try to be as objective as possible by not letting student A’s odious tickdom blind me to the merits of their drivel. I try to give all of them advice which will lead to their improvement even although I have no vested interest in any of them doing well and succeeding. I have a colleague who admits that she has to stop marking writing because the cretinous nonsense which she sees infuriates her so much that if she doesn’t stop, she’ll go apoplectic. I know how she feels. This afternoon I persisted in finishing off some writing so that it wouldn’t be hanging over my head this weekend. I really wanted to go home, but I waded my way through the lack of a decent opening sentences, an absence of evidence, and want of appointment decorum to get these gems out of the way. Perhaps my expectations are misleading me. One of the two Pre-AL classes is quite good, and the other, a

A little off colour. I’ve been making more use of Powerpoint presentations this year. I’ve largely resisted such idiocy over the past decade, but I’ve been a little more concerted in my efforts this term. I’ve been trying to follow best practice, viz. not overlarding each slide with info, or if I do have a lot of ground to cover, it comes in bits and pieces so as not to overwhelm the little darlings. So far my slides tend to be black-on-white, but I find them quite noisome to the eye, and in an attempt to make them less glaring, I threw a little colour into today’s Powerpoint presentation. I don’t stray into the world of colour theory without some basic knowledge so that I know orange-on-green looks naff, but I didn’t have the time to iron out the aesthetic kinks. At the moment, I’m wondering whether three shades of a colour might work best in some combination such as dark 1 -light-dark 2 , or two light shades and one dark. I want something inoffensive to the eye

And the rest are a blight. It’s been awhile since I dropped by because Internet access has mostly been stifled since the start of term. Pre-AL 1 continues to be one of the best classes I’ve had barring two three dunces, a loud-mouth, and a huffy girl who is perpetually bored and will never be interested. Pre-AL 2 has some good students, but there are just too many idiots who can barely string half a brain cell together. The latter will ruin the class and then make things even worse next year. My mystery this year is Χάρις, who may actually be stupid, or could, in fact, be quite clever, but is rebelling against being sent to a school where most of the instruction is in English. I don’t know what the deal with her is, but I suspect that if she knows she’s wound you up, she’s achieved what she set out to do. A typical class for her is to looked bored and huffy, to put her head down on the desk, to doodle, and ultimately to do little or nothing. On the other hand, Ζωή is tra

The effects of AQMs. Yeah, they’re coming at the end of the month. I know they’re meant to be useful, but they aren’t. They induce more stress and anxiety than good. They have expectations, but they’re rather opaque about them. They come with assumptions. They come with trite phrases such as “Everyone has their own style of teaching”. They don’t bother to mention that they think their way is best and can’t fathom doing this any other way. They want classes to be interesting and exciting, but quite forget that starter – activity – plenary classes are boringly repetitive just as the Basic Model, which I got when I did that EFL course about six years ago, was good for one or two classes, but disengaging thereafter. But we have to play the game. We have to be subservient and stressed and anxious and deprived of a decent amount of sleep. We have to put up with some annoying colleagues who play the game to be highly proficient. I want to be adequate, competent, and left al

What else is there for me? I’ve hit Unit 7 in the book. My reaction when I saw the content was, “Has another year really passed? Am I going to go through this article yet again?” Before term started I was a little uncertain about teaching the pre-AL students for a fourth year, but I haven’t really had the time so far this term to stop and think about it. For some reason the article in the unit got me thinking about teaching the same material yet again. Of course, I’m not teaching the content of the article. The skill is note taking. I suppose I could change the article, but it wouldn’t really invigorate me. The refrain I’ve been hearing around the office is “tired”. If I was only teaching on one programme, I’d be rather annoyed that the other programme, which is somewhat demanding, is likely to encroach on my time. Some of my colleagues have ridiculous amounts of teaching to the point that they’re coming to working, going home, having tea, a shower, and going to bed. Outside

Here it flaps like a hummingbird’s wings. For the past few weeks I’ve been getting messages about updating Adobe Reader. For some reason (though I can only speculate: my current theory is that this has something to do with state-authorised, malicious pdfs), because the school seems not to like Reader, any attempt to update it crashes into some Windows Registry issue which prevents certain values from being written without admin rights. I’m trying to download the new version of Reader. It instantly leaps to 33% and then seems to get stuck on 48% or so, but progresses very, very slowly after that, and eventually everyone gives up. I’m about to give up and probably find myself stuck with Reader 10.x.x forever. Instead, the school wants us to use Foxit, which I’ve tried and found irritatingly unfamiliar. I have Acrobat at home (being a nuisance because of some bug which insists on installing the latest patch even although I have the latest patch). In educational news, my bra

I’m an educator. (Cue mocking laughter.) I spent last weekend in Malaysia on a training course. This meant having excessive amounts of information pumped into my head, little of which my mind managed to retain. What I do remember clearly is InterBac assessment = lots of work . Lots. (Because I was aware of that, I didn’t make my surprised face.) I also remember that the workshop leader only has ten students. I have about 60 of my own. It’s also not hard for students to be adequate in the InterBac programme. Like the IGCSE ESL mark scheme, the InterBac mark scheme is so relaxed that it’s horizontal. Guaranteed to flatter should be the slogan. In fact, when I was making suggestions about things we could do to stretch the best students, it struck me that EFL is for the hard of thinking (in the “hard of hearing sense”). Yes, I know it’s all about testing language rather than intellect. Once upon a time, the rubrics for different IELTS bands used to refer to the effect a pi

School teachers and their games. I survived the observation intact in spite of only covering half of the objectives and letting the “activity” go on a little long. Somehow allowing lessons to be a little organic ist verboten, and being well prepared (just in case) is Bad Planning™. As I noted in a previous post, it seems puzzling to be told we have our own styles, but to have to conform to someone else’s whims. So long as the powers are sufficiently happy, I’m happy.

Watchin’ the defectives. One thing I’ve largely been spared is observations over the past few years, and when I did get observed, because I was unaware of the rules of the game, I failed miserably. But it seems that the boss is now having to deal with such matters, and to make it worse, his underboss was also present. How did the class go? Well, I didn’t get through all my aims, but I let the class grow organically. I’m sure, though, that I’m meant to get through all the aims or get censured for it. I know we have to get observed, but individual styles never seem to be taken into consideration in spite of being told that we all have our own ways of teaching. That’s bollocks as far as I can tell. We’re all meant to teach in the same way and sing from the same hymn sheet while we’re doing it. Apparently the trick this time was to ask follow-up questions, which I duly did. I’ll probably get asked how I knew any learning was taking place, but it was a vocabulary class with a

But not all of you. In the main, the pre-AL classes have been all right. Pre-AL α is better than pre-AL β, but only because the latter has some infantile vegetables who are the heirs to the last lot of vegetables we managed to get rid of. I also have a new Elaine. The old one spent about a year and a half looking like a rabbit, which was about to cry, caught in headlights. She then vanished, the rumour being that she’d been sent to Hong Kong for a little nip/tuck. This new one, though, has a hard, smug quality about her. You should’ve seen the look on her face when I reminded her that she’s not permitted to eat in class. I’m not sure whether it was a look of bafflement (“What did the foreigner just say?”) or a look of effrontery (“How dare you presume to give me orders, servant person!”). I think she understood, though. She’ll probably annoy me by doing adequately well in the exams. There are also some other numbskulls in pre-AL β who’ll ruin that class. Get rid of them and I th

The imperial way. I don’t like my timetable because everything seems to be beginning, middle, end this year. I have Ass 2 after lunch every time I see them. They’re turning into the Ass 2 class from two years ago. They’re not bothersome, but they are mentally inert. I wonder whether things would be better if we had an official textbook. Pre-AL 2 would be better but for five morons who are the heirs to the morons which we shed at the end of last year. It’s Terence, Hank, Nero, and Elaine all over again. On the other hand, I rather like Pre-AL 1 even although I see them at some awful times of the day and week.

But which one of us are you? In my second year in China, I knew my colleagues, but there were a couple I seldom saw above once every two weeks. They had their timetables, I had mine, and there was little overlap. Now that there are about twenty-five of us there are some colleagues whom I almost never see, and some whose names I don’t know, and some whom I almost never see and whose names I don’t know. There are also several to whom I’ve said nothing or next to nothing. Should I be concerned? I think there are too many of us for us to be a cohesive unit. I think splitting us into subject groups might have been practical, but it also sets fault lines in place. Last year the office had a mix of English teachers and scientists, which led to some weird and wonderful conversations that you wouldn’t tend to get under other circumstances. The new office may come together eventually, but I need some allies. I suspect that the place is like a school staffroom filled with peop

The end of the first week. Last year by the end of the first week, we had qualms about the pre-AL students. It might be that this year’s pre-AL students are bright, shiny and new, and so very junior middle school, but my sense of the classes overall is quite positive. With respect to the Senior 2s, I’m a little less confident. I’ve been saddled with the SL classes. I’m not totally without some decent students, but I fear the classes might be infected by that ethos of indolence which comes from their ignorance and unwillingness to put in a little effort. That’s a pity because last year’s pre-AL classes actually did much better for themselves than any of us initially predicted. But this is also very much what you get with students here. Like the rest of imperial society, there is a general reluctance to do more than the bare minimum to achieve some end.

Well, I suppose it actually is. Yeah, we’ve been at school this week after going to our start-of-term conference. To be honest, I can’t be bothered, but I’m trying to be bothered. I’m trying to pretend that I’m Captain Dynamic, but really I’m Captain Clueless. I’m trying to think of all those fun activities which reduce classes to kindergartens and am really getting nowhere. I’m looking at the same material for the fourth time and feeling utterly uninspired. Leisure and Entertainment. My little darlings have very little of their own leisure time, and they’re almost certainly passive receptors of entertainment. I’m also looking at some new material for the first time and have no idea what to do. I have lots of questions which can be used in the exploration of the topic, but there’s a big gap between that and things like skills, objectives, and materials. I’m over-reliant on the Internet for the last of these, and will admit that I regard the Net as a poor source of knowledge whe

Or, subject-specific drifting: the early adopter. I moved sideways yesterday. The plan is for us to be in offices by department next year. The English Department will be in the IB office and graciously hosting IT, Music, and some scientist. I can see the point of grouping subjects in particular offices because of the expansion in the programme, but I’ve enjoyed being in a mixed-subject office this year. Perhaps it isn’t so much the office as its liveliness. Sooner rather than later, we seem to end up in some fairly left-field conversations. Yesterday it was about the technical details of methane production, and how much poo would be needed to power a hotel; and the tuning of a guitar led to g-strings, but that was end-of-term hysteria making us behave like schoolboys. Or perhaps we are schoolboys at heart. The office to the south seems to have lacked that critical mass to be as vibrant as our office has been. Quite often the place has been deserted. I also note that no one w

And less of the usual. I’ve now been told I’m definitely teaching PAL and AS. The former will be more of the same. The latter will be different although I don’t know how different. I don’t know whether I’ll be teaching Standard Level IB only or whether I’ll also be teaching Higher Level. Only a small number of AS students will be doing HL English, which means that they may be integrated into the IB English classes, thus leaving me with the rest; or I might be teaching them anyway. It would possibly be nice to teach a smaller class. Although I have no problems with standing in front of large groups, the bigger they are, the less personal it all becomes. Group work is a nod to reasonable class sizes where reasonable class sizes would be better in the first place. On the other hand, I had groups of six students in Tongzhou and Fuzhou doing IELTS who mostly just sat in class wasting my time. There was the giggling idiot with his ¥8,000 mobile phone; there were the ferrets, a pa

Still on the inside looking in. I was beginning to suspect that the new English teacher was probably going to be hired specifically to teach on the IB programme, thus putting an end to any hopes I might have of teaching IB classes myself. In truth, there isn’t going to be a second new English teacher because her Ladyship isn’t leaving after all. Either way, I’ve long had my doubts about ever switching from one to the other. Besides, I’d already signed a contract for next year to teach on the A-level programme. But I will still be teaching IB English because that’s what all the students here will be doing. The reasoning is that because they can earn a certificate from it, they may be more motivated to put some effort in than previous classes have been. The other news is that from the start of June I won’t be having to deal with AS3 (or, rather, A2(3)) with whom Wing Commander F. will have to deal. However, because things aren’t going to change in one respect, it seems that I

The Who’s That of Listening Exams. Sailing photography: Best photos from Lauty Grace Answers from other students keep mentioning New York for some peculiar reason. I’m imagining that Lauty Grace is a photographer of some sort who gets into various scrapes each week by photographing something she shouldn’t or her camera photographs the future and she has to rescue someone from the fate she has recorded or < insert idea here >. I see that “CD action” is back as a fairly frequent answer and yet in spite of it being obviously nonsensical, it doesn’t appear to concern the little darlings unduly. I’ve now hit a batch of papers where it appears they were all busy sharing answers. As I said in the previous entry, these practice tests might be informal, but it’s a waste of their time if they’re just going to copy each other. I would post this if Freegate could get through to the server. The new version is having no more luck connecting than the old one had.

Windserfing [sic!] A not unexpected answer in today’s practice listening test. It was probably practised in the Middle Ages, but fell out of fashion with the arrival of the Renaissance. And I see that once again, Kit Evans is on top of Mars taking photographs. At the age of 16 she “discovered the school to develop film”. And did you know that forests “prevent dessert spread too far”? Or that one of the problems with wind turbines is their high pay? (The former is slightly embarrassing because the question includes the word “desert” and asks for two other things which a forest does.) There’s also some magical plum tree which yields 37km 2 of fruit. 10. (d) Why are companies interested in using wind turbines? Student’s answer: avoid fax. Possibly good advice, and obviously copied since the following paper had the same answer. Although these practice tests are informal, I’ve asked them not to do this sort of thing, but there’s that innate imperial inability not to chea

“I will, my darling, I will.” The Reading and Writing exam turned out to be fairly benign. Even the summary was kind and gentle. Ex. 6 offered massive scope for imagination although Ex. 7 was daring candidates to write in clichés, which is what my little darlings will’ve undoubtedly written. I’m guessing that the grade thresholds will probably be higher rather than lower this year if the Reading and Writing exam was so comparatively easy. Next up is Listening in a week’s time. As usual, the question is whether we have the kit to play the CDs because the number of students requires seven rooms. This means that the school is going to have to get us the equipment, which they will try to avoid doing, offering instead some dubious alternative because the money for buying sound equipment has long since been embezzled by the corrupt officials who run the school.

Hello, IB programme. We had some inkling of what was going to happen last week when one of the PAL students came to me and asked what level of English he should be doing next year. I was baffled because AS doesn’t have levels, and my learned colleague, Mr V, didn’t know, either. The student went away and came back with a form which had a list of options for next year, including IB standard or higher level English. First we’d heard of it and our initial assumption was that this was testing the waters. Since then, it’s been confirmed that the AS classes will be doing some sort of IB English. This has not been greeted enthusiastically by High Command even although I think it’s a good idea myself. Of course, I speak from the experience of ten years of fairly obnoxious Senior 2 classes. If students know they’re going to get something out of a class, they may be less indifferent to it. On the other hand, I’m not so addle-brained as to believe this is going to be a panacea. There

Activities are fun. The news is good. The assessment went well and I’m off the hook for the time being. There were groups, there were activities, there was fun. From a practical perspective, there needs to be a more pedagogical approach because exams are the cold hard reality when it’s every addle-brained student for themselves, and colours, cutting out, and glue aren’t part of the process. That’s when my sort of practical instruction should be valuable because there’s none of the frippery. “If you do X in the exam, you will get a better mark.” I’m not saying, “If you colour the paper in nicely, you’ll get a better mark.” One thing I’ve learnt from experience is that on those occasions when I know what I’m talking about, people ought to be listening and their prospects will improve. On the contrary, I hope at least that I have the wit to know when I should keep quiet and not presume to instruct others.

I’d rather you didn’t press it. 3. Samir is using the washing machine at the laundrette, Which two further steps must he take to make the machine work? Student’s answer: (ii) Press the green bottom Student’s answer (ii): Press the green battle Student’s answer (ii): Press green butter 6. Why must Assim’s surprise celebration take place in the afternoon? Student’s answer: There’s a cricky clock practice in school. Student’s answer: There’s a quick clock basic. Student’s answer: cricky cock practice, they need to go to school at 4pm. The actual answer is “cricket (club) practice”. In question 9, I’ve been informed several times that the astronaut was trying to repel the space shuttle. 10. a. What does Dale make? Student’s answer: She shit and bend. Overall, this has not been a good listening practice test. I think the top mark so far is 21.

The last of the speaking. It’s almost all over, or will be in about eight hours. Today I have to put up with the arrant nonsense the AS students are going to produce. I suspect that some of them will embarrass themselves and prove my suspicion that quite a number should’ve been in the PAL class this year. My next concern is the unwelcome arrival of that dratted woman on Friday. I have an idea which will involve a comic strip and some ideas pinched from the 3.5e Dungeon Master’s Guide. It’s meant to foster creativity, but could well throw into sharp relief the tendency of Chinese school children to make a minimal amount of effort. The real Internet was neutered at the weekend, but is up and running this morning. Can’t dawdle, though. There are speaking exams waiting. Yawn.

It returns. This isn’t really a convenient time of the year for unwelcome visitors. We’re approaching the final exams and have the speaking exam next week, which, as I think I’ve said, is going to be an enormous pain. That dratted woman was hoping to turn up next week, but is now coming back to irritate me the week after. As a consequence, I’m going to have to waste a class on some infantile frippery to keep this woman happy. That means thinking of something suitably bright and sparkly, and devoid of academic content. My problem now is trying to think of something which came from the mock exam, which can be turned into a kindergarten activity. For example, the writing was dull, clichéd stuff generally lacking in the slightest whiff of originality (though there’s nothing new under the sun) and imagination. How do I therefore incorporate originality and imagination in writing into a kindergarten lesson? How do I do such a thing with the sort of topics which tend to occur in t

You can never make anything too complicated. I see I had a spike in visitors because of my previous post, which must’ve disappointed a small number of right-wing Americans because it had nothing to do with the apparent topic. I finished marking the mocks yesterday and had assigned them grades according to the standard thresholds before waving some Tippex over them and using the less generous thresholds which we’d been given. In some cases, I thought the loss of a grade was a little unfair; in other cases, I wholly agreed. Overall, I’d rather use the neutral grade thresholds rather than those devised for a specific exam; but my one qualm was that no one got below a C, which is a little unusual. The less good news is that we’re only going to get help with the speaking exams for a couple of days. The prospect of dealing with 195 students with just three of us was bad enough, but the whole process is going to drag on. If only the boys had been much nicer when they did the accre

The city, that is. I’m going a little spare. After Senior 1.1 managed to write about weekend-breaks to a variety of cities, I was hoping that Senior 1.2 would follow suit. No, they’ve almost all decided to go to Paris and all its fucking clichés. But I’ve just been pushed over the edge by You may be curious about which city I was chosen. I can tell you, it’s Pairs. And this isn’t an isolated misspelling. It’s Pairs right throughout the entire cliché-strewn task response. It’s a bit early for me to start drinking, but I’m looking at my bottle of wine and thinking that inebriation might be the very thing. What makes this worse is that none of my little bleeders are getting less than than the equivalent of an A for the Reading and Writing. I should be pleased, shouldn’t I? Bugger off.

Dot you eyes, cross your teas, hook your effs. Imperial students can often be rubbish at distinguishing between t and f because they fail to make the hook at the top of the latter. If yes, give details of the injury: tell titty metres down I don’t know what titty metres are, but since I’m an old perv, I like the sound of this sort of measurement. The same student starts his letter Dear Lutty or Luffy or Lufty or Lutfy. I cannot say which. No real howlers in the exams I’ve been marking, but no real surprise given the singular lack of imagination among my little darlings. We lighten the camp fire… and [we chat and laugh] all over the night. Pet irritation of the writing, “I think friends can never be enough”. Second pet irritation: handwriting which is minuscule and nearly illegible. Students! This is not a strain you want to place on me – if you know what I mean. What? You have no idea what I mean. Sigh. I’ve been fairly strict about my marking this time. No

Another bullet dodged. We have the IB people here interrupting the mocks. Our beloved AQMs, both of them, were supposed to be along for the ride, but that woman was unable to make it, thus sparing me from another round of pretending that it’s important to know whether students are learning or enjoying themselves doing it. I’ve been thinking back to my own school days. I don’t recall teachers worrying about whether we were actually learning anything or whether they were sufficiently entertaining. I know my history teacher one year was dull and I used to struggle to remain awake in his late-afternoon classes, but I didn’t sit there wishing we could draw some pictures or that he’d bounce and caper in an amusing fashion. As for more practical contemporary matters, we’re in the middle of the mocks with the actual speaking exam not so far away, and the rest of the final exams not so long after that. Now is not the time to be doing edu­tainment, but it is, rather, to be doing cold,

I can’t hear anything above 13,000Hz. We conducted practice speaking tests last week in anticipation of the actual speaking some time around the middle of next month. There were four of us to do the examining, but we only tested the new Senior 2s in addition to the Senior 1 classes, which kept the whole thing to two days. Next time, though, there will only be three of us to do the examination because the boys failed the accreditation (including a qualified IELTS examiner), and there will be nearly two hundred students. Speaking is a draining exam because the examiner has to concentrate for long periods of time listening to some unutterable drivel. By the end of the day it’s hard for examiners to maintain any sort of focus. They might suddenly recall that they’re meant to be paying attention, or they might pay attention and assign a particular mark only to forget quite why. Students get themselves really wound up about the speaking. They haven’t done enough to improve their c

All excitement all the time!! (With added exclamation marks.) I’ve been doing some more wondering. This time it’s how to bring all that screaming excitement to class which the edutainment people want to see. Speaking We could have lively debates and discussions about matters of topical interest. Oh, hang on. Students know little or nothing about what’s going on in the big wide world (or even in the Empire; if I mentioned Bo Xilai there’s a good chance they’d think he was the President of Taiwan) and would soon wear out their English before the debate or discussion could even be described as lively. Listening I have every episode of A History of the World in 100 Objects from the BBC. It’s all fascinating stuff and not too long, but the content would probably fly over the heads of students without a great deal of preparation. The usual stuff they listen to is staged, slow, and practical. Reading There are all sorts of interesting things which students could read and wh

The uniformity of the human mind. It’s Saturday, wet, and I’m marking next lot of listening tests. If I don’t do this lot now, I’m going to have them and the writing I gave my classes as homework piling up on me. Don’t copy off each other , I tell them. The tests are informal, but I’d like them to do their own work. I’m not seeing that because Student B’s answers match Student A’s a little too closely. 23. What tends to affect everyone’s ability to think clearly? Students A and B: Gender. What are the odds? Actual answer: either Anxiety or Worry. And there we go again. Students C and D have both written “fishing” as the answer to the second question. (See also below for another answer to this question.) But then they diverge for a time before drifting back together. 15. What was her attitude if the seeds she planted failed to grow? Student’s answer: Vegetables. Mariella looked at the lifeless soil. “Vegetables!” she swore to herself.  21. What lifestyle factor

My charmed life. Actually, my life is not always charmed, but by and large I do seem to get out of tight spots by sheer good fortune. In this case, the Ra-Ra Squad got blown off course and I may not see them again any time soon. I did go ahead with Kindergarten Class, which kept the little darlings happy. Did they learn anything? Of course not, but there are some pictures and some English in the classroom. Meanwhile, a few howlers from the practice listening test: 9. The most challenging aspects of the job for Mike: (i) understanding how [ typical student answer ] bird might actually work. The correct answer is about how the bird’s mind works. So far no one’s answered this correctly. 16. What made the interviewer aware that Mariella had won a number of awards for gardening? Student’s answer : Saw a b[u]cket someone threw away.  18. Why is she taking her grandsons to Jamaica with her? Student’s answer : Want them to feel the freedom of the Ireland. Student’s answer

The weather remains refreshingly appalling. February dragged on and on and on. Term didn’t start marvellously well not only because I was so very ill (long before it became fashionable), but also because the inspectors called early on, and they called with an agenda. I may teach in a school, but I’m not a school teacher, trained or otherwise. I’ve always done things in my own way, taking cues from colleagues now and then. My method, which has no scientific rigour, cannot be complete rubbish because the exam results haven’t been so bad as to suggest that I was going about my business in the wrong way. I suppose the results can be attributed to the native wit of my pupils; I’ve never really supposed that I can claim any genuine responsibility for their success. The ones who are doomed to U’s will never strive to better themselves, and I’ve been teaching the brats of the Empire long enough to know that the old adage “You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink” is true.