The Classroom Through My Deaf Ears: By Eleanor

So, I've been pondering on my next blog post, knowing that it is now 2014 and 26 days have already passed me by.
 I've been reading 'The Happiness Project' book (fab book) by Gretchen Rubin and its about a woman who isn't unhappy, but knows she could be happier. She sets about ways of doing this over a year by making simple resolutions each month to follow.
 It begins with simple things like de-cluttering, which I have happily set about doing already, there is nothing more liberating than emptying half your wardrobe, finally letting go of those tops that you 'might wear one day' but know you never will. It's not so liberating that because you've now emptied half your wardrobe you feel that it's now OK to buy more clothes (luckily I haven't... much).
 Perhaps I'm slightly cheating by taking the bits that I want to do, rather than all the bits I need to do, but another resolution that interested me was that she started a blog and was posting nearly everyday.
 Now, I'm definitely in no position to make some silly promise that I will post everyday but I will try to post once a month.
 Anyway, it really is a great book so have a search and have a read (you can borrow my copy Imz don't worry!).


 OK so, I want to try and invite you into my everyday world, obviously some bits will be rather vague as I can't really name places or people but hopefully you will get the general gist.


 I arrive at school around 8.15am to prepare myself for the day ahead. The odd teacher comes by to say good morning and my communicator arrives not long after me. The children arrive for lesson, mostly quietly hanging their coats up, putting things in their trays and sit, legs crossed, arms folded on the carpet.
 The teacher wears the microphone and I hear her voice clearly straight into my hearing aids and into my ears. The children are responding though I never know which or when.
 Time to teach my lesson and it's numeracy today. I've started introducing some behaviour tactics to help the behaviour management, they like to push their boundaries, see how much they can get away with. I know when there is chatting, I don't know who from exactly but I have my suspicions. I praise the good ones, knowing the cheeky ones will want a bit of that praise too.
 I ask questions, they put their hands up, I don't always hear their response but my communicator is safely behind them with her hands/fingers becoming their voice. It's clear now.
 Time to set the group work, I know which children aren't listening and I know I'll be asked 'What are we doing?' by at least 3 (the same 3) children every-time. I make sure the room is quiet and try to ensure all eyes are on me. I try to explain as clearly as I can what we are doing.


 I sit at one of the tables to do a task, the groups are so big and the noise from the room is overwhelming. I talk, I feel my voice vibrating, I hope I'm loud enough. I can't hear their responses, I can't keep them all engaged at the same time because they can't hear either. I stop the class with the tambourine, and I ask for quiet work.
 The communicator stands behind the children, listening in, her hands becoming their voice, its clearer now, I feel more in control, I am in control. I keep an eye on the time, ensuring I leave enough time for the plenary before break.
 I finish the group task and call everyone back to the carpet. Behaviours start to pick up again but I'm hot on the trail. Praise the ones that do, the others follow suit. Are they shining? You can have a house-point, you can have a colourful dot. The naughty ones end up staying, missing a minute of their break-time, but this number has dwindled through time.


 Its break-time, and I smile at the thought of the children respecting me and me respecting them, I smile at the thought of them knowing that I will teach them if they let me in. I smile at the thought of them learning and answering questions correctly that are designed to test them. I smile when I do the marking and am able to tick their learning objectives off.
 I set the room up for the next lesson, its literacy. The children come in, hang their coats up, put things in their trays and sit on the carpet with their legs folded and arms crossed.
 I wait for silence and I start again.