If I were to add up the time I spent thinking about the phrasing of analytical essays, the time I spent on resources specifically about how to develop that phrasing, and then the time I spent refining and updating those resources...well, I shudder to think about how much of my life has been spent on it.
I’m constantly mulling over that tiresome problem: how to transfer the ideas in a student’s head on to the page in front of them.
“I know what to say, Miss, I just don’t know how to say it!” This complaint is trotted out by almost every student I’ve ever come across. Very few have a natural ability to express their ideas fluently, logically and concisely.
This problem is true for all essay-based subjects. We face the same issues in English as our colleagues over in history, down the corridor in art, and even as far away as the PE building.
As the time of last-minute practice exam answers approaches, teachers everywhere will be bemoaning the skills of young people trying to explain, comment, analyse and evaluate. I think we feel this most keenly in English - but then we all like to think that our subject suffers the most, or is the most difficult. And, as the wife of a PE teacher, I can appreciate that this problem does impact everyone.
Every now and then, when a child finally clicks and that slow, cautious pedalling transforms into confident independent performance, I’ll ask: “So what helped? How did you get there?”
Alternating teaching techniques
Their replies vary, but I’m always fascinated by how what works for one won’t work for another, and sometimes the things that I think are the most mundane and obvious teaching activities are actually the most useful.
One student, whose improvements felt like they were stagnating, surprised me recently by producing a piece of analysis that demonstrated a leap in his written expression. After the lesson, I eagerly asked him what it was that had helped? Was it the dozens of beautiful examples that we had crafted together? Was it the carefully selected vocabulary list? The double analytical word prompts? The previous work on using an image to analyse and infer? The ambient music I played on entry? The positioning of Saturn over Mercury?
Nope.
“I just didn’t want it to be as bad as that,” he said, pointing in disgust at an example I had given of common mistakes people made when analysing. “It made my eyes hurt,” he added. And he shuddered.
Sometimes, you just can’t predict what will work...or why.
Modelled examples, sentence stems, live modelling, dissected answers, modelled “bad” examples, vocabulary lists, acronyms, mini questions, structure strips, writing mats: as the date on my QTS certificate starts to look more like the date of birth for my students, I’m starting to realise that my chase for the holy grail of resources is futile.
Instead, great teaching is all about trial and error. It’s about alternating techniques, ensuring they are complementary, and relentlessly hammering high standards. And always ask: what worked for you?
Grainne Hallahan has been teaching English in Essex for 10 years. She is part of the #TeamEnglish Twitter group
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