MONDAY I arrive at work early to find my interactive whiteboard has been covered in tinsel. It hasn’t really worked since installation in September, so this is probably the most useful thing it has done all term. The children often look at it longingly, as if they have a feeling it should be able to do something impressive, but they are not sure what that is.
TUESDAY We decide to email Santa our requests this year. No such luck as the IT suite is being fixed all day. Oh well, back to the tinsel board, pen and paper.” Never mind Miss, he would probably drop his laptop if he had it on his sleigh anyway.” I’m reassured.
WEDNESDAY Tonight is the school carol concert. Several stars of the show are in our class and they’ve been singing the same line of music non-stop all morning. What I wouldn’t do for a pair of headphones and a computer that works.
THURSDAY An impressive technological event happens today. Putting all my faith in the tinsel-clad board, I plunge into the murky waters of a maths lesson through a PowerPoint presentation. The children are spellbound; we watch it several times in total awe of the board. I walk into the class at break to find one of the class solemnly removing the festive tack. It has obviously been elevated to new heights of tinsel-free seriousness.
FRIDAY The end of term is a tantalising week away. A whirlwind of parties, carol concerts and discos is all that is left of what feels like a term of marathon proportions. And a school that was gleaming in September is in need of a well-earned holiday. As I walk back into my classroom to pack up the holiday work, I can almost see my hi-tech equipment winking at me: “If you think I am going to work perfectly for you in 2004, think again!”
Leo Bown
Leo Bown teaches at Osborne special school in Winchester, Hampshire
