This is a reflection, a first draft, of a very joyful memory of teaching. I am sure it will go through a number of versions as I continue to work on it over the next few months, or when the mood takes me. But I hope you enjoy this first version.

THE JOY OF TEACHING: ‘SPY SCHOOL

Following the #WritingRocks chat this week, I started thinking about the joy of teaching, and a particular memory came to mind, which makes me smile even after all these years. I decided that I would share this with you, and hopefully it will make you smile as well.

Sitting on a train, returning from a course on teaching lower ability maths pupils, jotting down some reminders for when I had to relate the contents of the course to the other staff, I suddenly flicked over the page and started scribbling frantically: the heading – ‘Spy School.’
I rushed home, analysed my data on times tables for each pupil, marking off those which had presented a problem, and wrote them as a secret code on individual pieces of paper.

Returning to school the next day, I was buzzing with excitement. Never once had I thought that anyone would object to my insane plan, which would require each member of staff to play along. And I was right. The culture of the school encouraged taking risks with your teaching: looking outside the box to find creative ways of reaching every pupil.

I remember clearly the initial eye rolling when I announced at the morning staff meeting that I had a plan. ‘What is she up to now?’ was whispered among a few members of staff. When I outlined my idea, the atmosphere changed to one of excitement and laughter, with most contributing additional ideas to expand the theme.

When the headmaster strolled in, he looked around the table. His glance settled on me, and peering over the tip of his glasses, with a deep sigh, he asked, ‘What are you up to?’ Within a few minutes, he was volunteering a set of walkie talkies and agreeing to be the spy master.
Everyone had a role to play, including the Headmaster. Some of the teachers had a list of my secret codes and agreed to call each child by their code name, which could have been 7, 49, 7 or 56, 8, 7.

One staff member was absent at the time. The game suddenly expanded to assigning him the role of the villain trying to acquire the secret codes, which would mean continuing to keep him in the dark about ‘Spy School.’

Drama has always played a major part in my teaching, so I relished the role of a trainee spy, even managing to convince my son, who was one of the pupils, that I had been on a course the day before to train as a spy. MI5 were concerned that one of the teachers was a foreign agent, but they needed to be sure. Our task was to unmask the spy. Each pupil was given a secret code that they were asked to memorise and then dispose of by the end of the day. The buzz of excitement amongst the pupils was tremendous. I can still see them trying to conceal their slips of paper under the desk, their lips moving silently as they tried to memorise their code.

One of the teachers on break duty that morning reported that news had spread amongst the other classes, and many of the games during break had involved spies.

Over the next week, ‘Spy School’ grew legs and arms. Even the pupils in the senior section of the school, who I knew from coaching them hockey, started to ask questions about the foreign spy. During every break time, a quick glance around the playground would reveal large groups who had developed their own version of ‘Spy School.’

The end of the week times tables test revealed that the experiment had worked. Every pupil had improved their score dramatically. ‘Spy School’ was such a hit it seemed a shame to bring it to an end.

Walkie talkies were handed out amongst some of the staff; codes were changed, and the headmaster was primed to interrupt my lesson with a code red alert. In my wildest dreams, I couldn’t have anticipated the pupils’ reaction. I confess to a rather disrupted lesson, with children running to the windows, opening the door to check the corridor and, the more timid pupils diving under the desks. New codes were handed out. Time to take the game to another level and direct suspicion towards the geography teacher.

Fate was looking down on me, smiling that day, I am certain. They left my class to go to a geography lesson. Tick. When they walked into the classroom, they immediately spotted codes scattered all over the board; the geography teacher had been teaching about coordinates. Tick.
The first I knew about it was when the geography teacher stormed into the staff room to demand an explanation for the disruption to his lesson. He explained that the class had completely ignored him but had spent the first part of the lesson scribbling down the coordinates from the board. When he declared that they had looked at him like some sort of criminal, the staff room erupted into uncontrollable laughter. Thankfully, he was a really good sport, and soon joined in the fun and games, even going as far as to scribble a load of codes into a small notebook and carrying it around with him.

Spy School continued for the rest of the half term, with the times tables results improving dramatically, but, more importantly, the understanding of the relationship between multiplication and division becoming clearer.

Even more important was the consensus amongst the staff that the enthusiasm for ‘Spy School’ should be taken a step further. Many of the pupils had taken to carrying notebooks around with them, scribbling their ideas down at every opportunity, acting out their scenes during every break. We all agreed to use the excitement, change the literacy plans for a few weeks to incorporate ‘Spy School.’ Some of the teachers used scripts, others – diaries, reports, newspaper articles and story writing.

In a time when data-driven assessment did not exist, this one ‘golden nugget’, the flexibility and engagement of the staff, and the willingness of the headmaster to take risks, had improved the knowledge, understanding and application in maths, provided a stimulus and excitement about writing (at home and school), and revealed a dramatic improvement in the quality of the written work. More importantly, both pupils and staff (including the headmaster) had thoroughly enjoyed the experience.