This time next week, the current Year 11 Media cohort will be a thing of the past.
This time last week I was feeling the relief of handing in the coursework sample. Although, the week before last, sleep was a foreign concept.
With all the nagging and bugging I did, my boys still left everything until the last minute. Which meant that I spent the week JUST before deadline, marking coursework folders and holding a numerous amount of intervention sessions. I can safely say the week commencing 02/05/17 (not including the Bank Holiday Monday) was my toughest week thus far.
I already have an extremely heavy timetable for a Subject Leader…no sorry, Strand Leader. So with my heavy timetable and my loooooong drive and the added coursework marking, I was done!
There was a night where I stayed in school until 7:30pm having eaten nothing for lunch, as I worked through it. However, the silver lining was that there’d be no traffic because it was late. Untrue! Well, not really untrue. I got onto the A13, which was closed due to a collision. I was sat there for hours. I cried! I didn’t arrive home until 11:30pm. I woke up the following day at 5am for a two hour drive. I wondered if teaching was worth it. Why was I losing sleep for students who barely and rarely show gratitude? This leads me onto my next thought.
As a Media Studies teacher, we often talk about Audience, as it’s one of the key concepts. Whenever the students are analysing a product or planning to create a product, we need to devise an audience profile. While doing this, we discuss the different groups and social class. Each time we do this, I consider the class in which I belong. According to the group, I’m middle class however, I was born working class.
One of the reasons I decided to teach was to show working class children that we can ‘make it’. However, although I was born middle class, my interests aren’t…anymore. If there is even such thing as working class interests.
Sometimes I feel like I’m being a hypocrite because as much as I say that I want to teach in an Inner City London school so that I could relate to the children. I doubt I’d ever want to live in the inner city, even though I grew up there. Have I turned my back in myself? Have I become a snob just because I have a few letters after my name and help students become closer to also having letters after their name?