allsorts

In music, very often, the acquisition of familiarity through study and practice breeds respect and increased satisfaction.

So it was with one of the works we performed at our NEO concert yesterday. Barber’s cello concerto (Listen to excerpts here) is not easily accessible for amateur players, (especially not the first violins it seems.) The technical demands are many, not in terms of getting the notes, which although high at times are not as stratospheric as some composers seem to like, but in terms of rhythm and counting. For the violins there were sometimes long stretches of rests within which the time signature changed frequently making it obligatory to watch the conductor at all times, even when for example, preparing an entry on a high Bb. Often it is possible to learn during rehearsal what other instruments are doing and become familiar with an entry by reference to that. The complicated rhythms made it essential to apply very concentrated effort to this at rehearsals. Even then it was never entirely clear on which occasions, and why, we had got it right, or more often wrong. And using the metronome a lot when practising at home was only sometimes helpful for the same reason.

So despite my best efforts, and intensive preparation, it was with great trepidation that I opened the music last night to play in front of an audience, hoping that I would not let my co-first-violins, and the orchestra down by my mistakes. Perhaps it was a function of my increased concentration or the fruition of many hours of practice, or the skill and talent of the soloist, or the unifying commitment of the conductor, or all of these. Anyhow, it turned out to be not just intellectually satisfying (as is sometimes the case for modern pieces successfully performed – a mere triumph of mind over matter) but spiritually and emotionally fulfilling too. The lyrical slow movement in particular was totally absorbing. The soloist played with a commitment and passion that encompassed all of us players and the audience. At the conclusion of the slow movement the hall was completely still as the resonances rippled out to fill every space within the listeners and performers. A truly satisfying experience.

But I was sad too because my much-missed former desk partner Alan who died last year, and who was a cellist as well as a fine violinist, would have loved this performance, and loved to be part of it. Perhaps he was in a way.

I think it’s important to record my observations about this, however as with the Glow pilot, there is a need to be positive, and criticisms can seem to undermine this. Still, Don has recently blogged about the importance of honesty, and Ewan has commented, so that’s what’s underpinning my comments here.

For a start, I noticed a change in my note-taking habits. Firstly, I was itching to have my laptop to use. Secondly, instead of writing down what the speakers were saying, I found I was noting my own questions, comments and observations on what I was hearing. Hmmm, reflection on the hoof as it were.

Things I enjoyed, and my observations

· the bus journey into Edinburgh, chatting with Annie: we are whole people with lives, challenges and sources of satisfaction beyond our jobs

· catching up with other ChTs: one of the riches of ChTs as a group is the diversity of our interests and backgrounds

· Walter Humes’ witty and entertaining introduction: it’s very important to set a positive and relaxed atmosphere for something like this, but it can be hard for a speaker following an outstanding sparkler like Walter.

· hearing Matt MacIver’s voice, partly because of his accent, but partly because of the heartfelt passion he brings to what he is saying: we have at last progressed as a culture enough for a man to be able to express intensity of emotion in a large, very academically powerful environment.

· Peter Gronn’s final 10 minutes where he became more political and produced food for thought: like Tristan and Isolde – the final 30 minutes are mind-blowing, but the previous 4 and a half hours are torture!

· the afternoon workshop I went to where Fiona MacLennan talked with enthusiasm and commitment about her Action Research on Enterprising Teachers which she’s carried out for the final part of her ChT journey with Stirling: there is a big difference between ChTs who’ve gone by the APEL route and those who’ve done the university modular one

· that at this session questions and discussion were welcomed: interaction is important to what I get out of a session like this; but did I speak too much?

· the opportunity to meet up with friends and acquaintances and engage in professional discourse: there are not enough opportunities for this within a school setting- sometimes it seems to set those of us who like to do this apart from the rest

· talking to someone who has reservations about Feuerstein: it’s not “safe” to criticise this in SBC at the moment so it was good to discover a ChT who had undergone some Feuerstein training and had concerns

Things I was less positive about:

· Peter Gronn’s requirement of his audience that they do the work of maintaining attention to what he was saying: I am like the children – I need a bit of light relief at some points during an hour’s listening

· the location of the first workshop, the Great Hall – theatrical and impressive architecture but acoustically a disaster: it’s very important to be able to hear speakers easily

· the over-confidence and self-importance of the presenters of the first workshop: it pains me to say it, but they did display this, and without good cause. We Scots are only just becoming comfortable with hearing people expressing pride in their achievements, and are maybe still finding ways of expressing our pride that don’t sound like pure self-congratulation.

· the acoustic arrangements at the final session - there were microphones in all the aisles and at the sides – why weren’t they used? Why didn’t Jenny Reeves use one of the plentiful supply at the front?: it’s really frustrating not to be able to hear exchanges at the other side of the hall.

· the mis-match between what I assumed were the aims of the final session and the potential for achieving them in that context – a lecture hall set-up is hardly the place from which to elicit real interactive discussion about anything far less such basic subjects as “where are we going with this now?”: this reminded me how much I hate superficiality, and this seemed like paying lip-service to consultation. We weren’t told what would happen to the findings from our evaluation forms.

And

· Why aren’t LTS involved in ChT stuff at all?

· I would have liked a list of people attending, their ChT status and where they were from. For example, I saw a journalist there. I think we should have been told this.

· I would have liked the descriptions of the workshops sessions to have included a note of whether they had primary/secondary/other focus.

· Peter Gronn referred to 3 bits of recent research on ChTs. I think these should aleady have been pointed out to us as ChTs, maybe through Blackboard, maybe through the post, maybe through the SEJ, maybe through the Chartered Teacher magazine that seems to have fallen by the wayside.

· I would have liked a dynamic and inspiring keynote speaker, who was aware of the level at which the majority of his audience approached the subject.

· I would have liked far more opportunity for exchange and discussion. Maybe have presentations in the morning but in the afternoon, set up 40- minute sessions with a focus, add an interested chairperson and no more than 12 people, invite a couple of people to give a 5-minute personal perspective and then throw it open. Less stressful for presenters and far more collaborative and interactive.

Hierarchies are everywhere. From Maslow to Bloom, Freud to Piaget, everything can be subjected to a system of ranking and organisation where each element of the system (except for the top element) is subordinate to a single other element. Higher levels (control, regulate, interpret, harness) lower levels, whose behaviors are made possible by properties generated at still lower levels. (Google, wikipedia)

So it is in school staffing . Class teachers are generally at the bottom of the pyramid with PTs and DHTs and HTs above them, and the janny being the top element. Where do Chartered Teachers fit into this? On which level do they comfortably sit? Or do they end up like those annoying children in your class who, instead sitting at their designated table getting on with their spelling, wander about endlessly, having a chat or a poke at someone here, and pinching someone’s pencil/answer/idea there?

At the Chartered Teacher Conference today, Matt MacIver (could listen to his voice all day) was clear that this apparently inconvenient lack of a pigeon hole for us is a good thing. He was “comfortable with the discomfort” that many ChTs feel as their role is undefined and has no “job description”.

Indeed some people claimed that they were now able to write their own job description and saw this as evidence of their increased autonomy due to ChT. Not me. My job keeps changing as I do, and reflect, and change, and do more. I keep seeing other things I want to try. Better (maybe) ways of doing things. Exciting opportunities for showing children how to learn. Combining successful past strategies in new ways and with new emphases.

No I don’t want a job description at all. Or I want one that says “under development”. I want to continue to collaborate and and invent and improvise under my own steam. I love the opportunities that this gives me.

And I want the hierarchy to give way to something more like Multiple Intelligences or ACE thinking. There are lots of elements, and they all combine, overlap and interact each with their own unique character. Maybe one has more emphasis at this particular time, but that will all balance out in the end and none is more important than another, or all are equally important. So PTs, DHTs, HTs, the janny are not higher or lower than ChTs; we’re all making a unique and valuable contribution. The fact that some get paid more than others is a fact of life, not a reflection of their value.

So no hierarchies. Except maybe this one.