Tagged: PGCE
2012 in review
The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
4,329 films were submitted to the 2012 Cannes Film Festival. This blog had 16,000 views in 2012. If each view were a film, this blog would power 4 Film Festivals
Writing and Silence
Reblogged from Anthony Wilson:
I love the silence that descends on a classroom full of people who are all engaged in the act of writing. There’s something thick about this silence, nothing but the muffled voices of people outside in the snow, the hum of the computer in the corner, the odd cough. Each of us is travelling, lost in our own world and yet contributing to each other’s writing by signing up to the power of the silence.
On Saying Goodbye to Primary PGCE Students
Reblogged from Anthony Wilson:
For the last nine years at the end of the first week in July I have been saying goodbye to Primary PGCE trainee teachers as they complete their initial teacher education.
It is a celebratory occasion, yet also poignant. We acknowledge and take delight in the resilience of these bright, energetic and creative people in achieving the status of Newly Qualified Teacher.
In Praise of PGCE Students
PGCE students are so dedicated. They burn with desire to be amazing. They hand in their work and have beautifully organised files. They collaborate with each other in study groups. They ask each other how they are. They have fabulous stationery.
They make lists, learn the guitar, sip coffee. All of them have scarves.
Some of them care so much it hurts. They want everything they do to be perfect. Sometimes, I tell them, good enough is good enough, that perfect first time is rare. They look at me aghast and go home to feed on soup and study materials.
Some of them live alone and some in community with others -they even have families. It is a miracle, all of this.
Each seems to carry within them a space of determination, iron and wilful, that no government can shake and no assignment feedback can quash. I watch them and believe all will be well.
I know this because I see it in the ache of their greetings, their morning eyes thick with sleep and shining.
Artwork by Kate Hingston


