This is the first of my postings on teaching special needs students in a north London college. None of the blogs are fiction: everything as written happened. All I've done is change the names of certain people. The action takes place over the course of a year teaching students with behavioural difficulties. Anyone with an interest in education will enjoy this diary as it unfolds: tragedy, rape, progress, expulsions, flying by the seat of one's pants, shedding tears, laughing, innocence and guilt.
Introduction: Week One
Bat Gnawed
In the beginning was Hendon Aerodrome, blue skies, wide expansive fields, a few huts and a long stretch of grassed over tarmac where once catapulted bi-planes of canvas and wood imagined themselves steel and soared. Years later, blood gore romantics with bat gnawed memories held aloft by shared glories and hot air, talked comradeship. On this hallowed military ground barbed wire bird called Phoenix created the Royal Air Force Museum to cage metallic birds from many nations. In contrast, grey and tacky, with sticky out funny bits and walkways to the sky putting the fear of God into its residents, was a large social housing estate - though nothing sociable could be said about it - with its dirty knobbly concrete protrusions and dumped razed motor scooters. On the edge of all this, sheltered from the modern carbuncle by a perimeter road and railway, is the college of further education where this tale unhinges.
My students will prove to be a marvellous cross section of personalities, unlike last year when lethargy and lack of interest dominated. Well, other than when threats were gutturally issued as regularly as first class post and fists and feet karatied soft flesh scrunching bone. Calculations on the liberal audit index indicated they’d had a raw deal in our renowned college. Staff changes, illnesses, continuous breakdowns and unexplained dislocations in course subjects didn’t present a great and committed picture to the educational rejected: our institutional speciality. Pressure to maximise numbers for financial expediencies blinded us to the consequences of mixing too many volatile characters into a cocktail of madness. Whatever operational considerations there might have been they did not extend to setting high standards for students. For instance, there’d been no pre-entry reading or writing assessments. Class room education had become mired into lower class aspirations re-cycling deprivation, no hope and incurable low self esteem.
In front of me are the bodies I’ll be working with for the second year of my teaching qualification. Max and Dean are left over from last year’s group because they failed to complete their course work. The former, hospitalised for several months after a kick in the groin laid him low, could appeal to this as an excuse. Unlike Dean who, despite regular growth hormone treatment, remained the runt of the group, literally and metaphorically. Both were placed on ‘behavioural contracts’, a formal, but effective means to maintain seriousness, commitment and attendance. It stopped Dean’s racism and a weekly letter sent to his parents updated them on their son’s progress. For a while it also curtailed Max’s violence. Counter balancing these two a new student will be a revelation. Lee should have had a part in a Peckinpah western, tall, skinny, blond hair tumble weed messy, sticking vertically from his scalp. Club feet and subsequent numerous operations from birth, gives him a gait bum sore from long in the saddle. Always willing to be involved in physical activity, a devil in the swimming pool and expending frenetic energy in the gym. “Look at me!” exuberance.
Turn the students sideways, yellow, white, brown, male and female, two in a wheelchair. One we already know, Chung, a Chinese Malaysian, recruited through our Southmead special school link was placed on a contract after beating up a fellow student. An explosive personality lacking confidence, at once both forward and shy. Writes his name on the whiteboard ever so small during induction day, yet talks about his feelings and memories maturely and generously. There are other students from Southmead too, some from the special careers officer, mainstream students with exasperated parents wanting to place their offspring someplace for an education they’d not received from ten years of compulsory schooling.
Students had been interviewed by Carol, my senior lecturer, and myself, with their parents or guardians and copies of reports from previous institutions to refer to. No current member of the teaching staff had been involved in such procedures last year and we’d been concerned by its omission. A bad mix of personalities and lack of background material, reflected poorly on our professionalism. Our confidence, as a small, almost forgotten section of college, was severely dented as we struggled to contain rejected unruly youths who, somehow, we’d to educate. Worse awaited us. Despite students having completed full time compulsory education we were shocked by their lack of literacy, and confidence, even amongst the most able. A greater shock was their poor levels of emotional literacy which I’m convinced prevented them from learning.
Student’s were asked to fill in enrolment forms without assistance. We’d unilaterally decided, in our small special needs department, a basic level of literacy was essential to complete the course. We’d also drawn up a list of health questions. Several students we suspected required medication, others had mental health issues, and in the case of Tricia and Paul, we needed to investigate their levels of mobility. We’d not had wheelchair bound students before and probed how they’d cope. Fortunately, both appeared able with personalities to match. Paul has spina bifida, a slight speech impediment and needs toileting every few hours. He’s eager to learn and, during interview, revealed he enjoys working on his own, whilst Tricia clearly makes it known she wants to work with children. In contrast to the new induction, barring Sunil, who’s school reports warned of potential difficulties, Max and Dean are extremely problematical and will require careful, sensitive and firm guidance. I, and other staff educating them will need unconditional management support. I suspect Max will cause as many problems as last year because doesn’t perceive himself as having ‘special needs’ despite an educational statement detailing his learning and emotional problems. He’s physically big and able to pass off as a mainstream student. Since returning after his hernia operation he’d done nothing but disrupt and frequently verbally threatening staff. Last year he took a swing at me forcing me to physically throw him out the class, all paper tiger punch and no achievements. He resisted work like contagion and when asked to read from one of his martial arts magazines he carries everywhere, he stubbornly refused. Becoming angry he began shouting, “I can read and write, ask my mum.” As an early marker for future patterns Max and Dean are soon joined by Sunil, himself badly beaten at secondary school, taking it upon themselves to team up to verbally abuse and punch other students. Following an incident in which Lee was knocked to the floor and kicked in the head, all three were suspended for a week.
Much of the course, like my teaching, tends to fly by the seat of its pants. Hopefully, however, I’ll create projects for my students to think about life on structured themes. All too often staff become entombed by the immediate needs of students, losing sight of the purpose of education: to stimulate inquiry, transporting students where they’d not been before. Most of my working material have poor self images, so last year’s students, for instance, ran with great haste from a camcorder. The first project they’ll complete is entitled, ‘Myself’.
.
The aims of the course and my philosophical approaches are simple. Background information culled from files, insights from discussions, observing juvenile arguments and how they’re resolved, will be used to challenge, confront and educate. Professionally, rationally, even icily, I’ll assist them in whatever course of action will benefit them intellectually and socially. For their emotional intelligence I’ll devise practical strategies and approaches encouraging them to become active members of civil society. I’ve built in a tutorial system to enable students to bid for topics of research as well as monitoring weekly progress. This I do on the premise each individual has to learn to self direct their own learning on whatever issues may face them as adults.
Everything written in this study is a true record of one year’s teaching which I trust the reader will find enjoyable. All I’ve done is change the names of some staff, students and locations.
