First of all, thanks to the people who have commented positively on the Holidays post. It's nice to know I'm not alone in feeling that strong.
Today was the first 'proper' day of the Easter break. Due to some clever wangling, which may or may not be down to the Head having an extended trip to a distant country, we have 3 weeks off- plenty of time to recharge the batteries. I took the chance to visit some family- none of them teachers, alas, but there are plenty of relatives who are a bit more realistic about what a teacher's life involves. During one conversation I explained my approach to the school holidays- particularly the 'in-year' ones, such as Easter and Christmas and the half terms.
My outlook was this; that for me the holiday is not about not doing work, but rather doing it at a more relaxed pace. I may still do some lesson planning or marking but I can decide to stop now and again, for hours at a time if I wish, to have a snack, watch a DVD or whatever. And don't get me wrong, I do occasionally drop all work for a few days while I gallavant off somewhere for a change of scene.
But even allowing for that inbuilt necessity a lot of us to feel to do some sort of work in the holiday, why are we quite so ready to do it? The answer was, in part, clear today, as I sat editing a video to use in class that is not really necessary but will definitely engage the kids and get them keen on the lessons upon their return.
As I finished the video, I wanted to include some photos from a Science lesson we'd done. As I added them in, I was struck by the expressions on their faces- particularly those in the backgrounds, who were no longer posing cheesily but getting on with trying to construct circuits. Now, my memory of that leson was one of a raucous din in which I wasn't fully sure the class were really on form. We've all had those days, of course, so I didn't worry about it at the time, but on closer inspection of the evidence, it was clear to me that the noise was excited talk about Science and electricty. The eyes sparkled; the 'impressed look' was there.
It strikes me as a little sad that I couldn't see that the lesson was going so well at the time. Perhaps I've become too used to thinking that calm, orderly classrooms are the only kind to have- but then again I've never believed that to necessarily be the case. Has the current box-ticking, scrutinising culture got the better of me? Maybe, maybe not. The point is, the children were looking at those batteries, wires and bulbs with the same enthusiasm I've seen them apply to books, DVDs and computer games. Children never stop learning, and for the most part never lose the ability to be enthused. As teachers, we know this inherently, and as they are always ready to learn, we are always ready to help them do so. Teaching is not just a job, it's a vocation, after all.
Yes, it's seriously hard work and we don't always get the credit from on high or other adults. But it is there to see in the faces of the kids we teach if we just remember to put down that Assessment Grid for a moment and look for it. I'll happily spend time planning some creative and fun lessons this holiday- it's money in the bank, after all, for a busy Summer term, and the space to think is woefully lacking in term time. But I have, at least, learned not to feel guilty for the inevitable day or two where I will slump on the sofa watching terrible TV while the books I meant to mark gather dust on the armchair opposite!
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