I've just finished my placement for my second year at uni. This consisted of six weeks, or what should have been six weeks, in a specific workplace of our choice. Or at least it was our choice if we wanted it to be our choice, we could put this time of our lives in the hands of the professionals if we so wished. This left me with a dilemma. Do I stay or do I go? Not knowing any schools in the Leeds area meant that I could either pay rent in Leeds but live in Thornaby (my hometown) or alternatively ask the office to assist me so I could find a school in Leeds that would take me for five weeks (because week six was half term). I opted for the latter. Bad. Move.
What eventually happened was that I had seven days to find a placement. After asking the office for help they spent three months chasing shadows. THREE MONTHS. It took me one week to do the same job, in fact one day, a tank of petrol and a panicked expression on my face, to be precise. You see, for me, if 75% of students that apply for a placement through your office actually get a placement, you shouldn't plug this as a good thing. This leaves an excess of
25% of students still seeking a placement after the deadline has passed. Not acceptable.
So the placement started. Good times! At my old school, wearing a shirt with elbow pads and a woollen tie, I looked like a throwback from 1960s geography. This, along with my height, did not go unnoticed. I challenge anyone to walk into a room full of 11-12 year olds wearing ANYTHING out of the ordinary, or being interested in anything out of the ordinary, or just looking out of the ordinary. Here stands a six foot seven man who loves R.E, like I said, out of the ordinary. They will pounce on it, you have to be witty. In a classroom you NEED to be witty. Those lacking wit will lose the respect of the students almost immediately. The second they feel they can walk all over you is the second they grasp the nettle and do so.
Three weeks passed in a heartbeat. Sixth form placement began. Teaching students little more than two years younger than oneself is an interesting turn of events. You realise how much you've learned since you were in their shoes. You learn how much you have grown up. Socially, academically, generally. A level students are like a lite version of university students. The problem is, like with any lite version, there is still a vast amount of the finished article hidden beneath. The challenge is to know everything they need to know. I had a weekend to learn this, and did. Well done Larry.
Anyway, back to normal life. Just spent the last fortnight drunk or hungover (alongside a 3000 word report for the contents of my placement). Wish me luck.
