Inspector

When I was a secondary school inspector I became increasingly aware of the importance of the learning environment. It indicated status - of teacher and of subjects. (Maori was then noticeably often taught in prefabs out the back). Not always. Every now and then a teacher converted an old prefab into a colourful space excitingly alive with opportunities for learning. Sometimes classes had painted murals, both interior and exterior. The cheap Nelson blocks (so-called because the initial design came from the Nelson Education Board) built in the early years of the baby boom were beginning to show their age. The older schools with their high echoing corridors had been built to symbolise stability and order. The newer ones reflected haste and impermanence, their vacant walls tempting vandalism.

Furniture arrangements were also changing. The old schools tend to have big thick heavy desks but the newer ones had lighter furniture, which meant rooms could be quickly rearranged for different activities. A well-drilled class could do this very quickly. Indeed it was one of my yardsticks for measuring the teacher’s control. Increasingly, a U-shaped model was used, all desks facing the centre of the room. Some teachers had their desk behind the students, others at the front. Some taught standing behind their desk, others walked around the room. My admiration for Phys Ed, metalwork, woodwork, home economics and clothing teachers grew as I watched them cope with children in groups and often with different projects.

Part of the job was travelling education salesperson. "I saw this recently" and an idea, a lesson plan, a new method would be passed on or suggested. Some recipients nodded but were not listening, others took the suggestion holus bolus and as a result often it did not work while others internalised it and added it to their repertoire.

As a teacher I had accepted the division of time. Now I became more conscious how it dominated secondary education - terms, periods, subjects, bells. No matter how attention is engaged the lesson ends at the pre-arranged time. Practical classes have to start tidying up before the end of the period. It was and is very much a factory model. Much of it becomes ritualistic. Each teacher had his or her own tricks of starting a lesson, controlling its direction and wrapping it up. Ritual provided a secure place from which to present learning opportunities which was a risk-taking business. Not that inspectors saw many experimental lessons. Understandably teachers played it safe. But it became increasingly obvious to me how passive the process was for most students. I looked back over my own teaching with concern – had I done this to kids? Learning for many was something one had to do to get through the period, not an exciting skill to be mastered or an activity of intrinsic value. Though one beguiling lesson began: "today's lesson will not be as good as yesterday's. There is a visitor in the room." They sat up and paid attention while I wondered was he having me on. Yesterday's lesson must have been a humdinger - this one was admirable.

Analysing lesson after lesson proved fascinating for a while. Tension, excitement, frustration, curiosity, satisfaction, boredom, each combined in differing proportions. What was the reason why a successful lesson suddenly faltered? How come such a random presentation gained attention, indeed interest? Why did such well-resourced instruction fail? Relevance was usually all but sometimes the most irrelevant subject matter engaged attention and learning was alight and alive. Teachers who loved their subjects usually were respected; their enthusiasm was contagious. On the other hand one learnt to suspect expressed concern for their charges – often it masked a sense of condescension. Those who had deep concern revealed it in their actions.

Two successive science lessons are illustrative. In the first, the experiment did not go as planned. Dampened but determined the teacher led the classes back through each step to work out what had gone wrong. I was impressed. In the second, a different experiment also did not work. "Never mind," said the teacher. "This is what should have happened. Take down these notes from the board." When I complained to fellow inspector Joe Neale he sensibly responded, "what else would the poor devil do with you in the room. That's a science teacher's nightmare."