One A Day, Day 12: It's pronounced B-O-LL-O-CK-S.

Good evening! Since my wife's viewing of televisual car crash Popstar to Opera Star precludes my playing of Mass Effect and its sequel on the TV, and Star Trek Online has decided to update itself with a patch that will take 5 hours to download on Steam (despite the fact I was playing it earlier with no problems), now's as good a time as any to get today's entry done.

Today I would like to rant about phonics, since I had a long, boring, pointless and patronising training day on this very subject today.

For the uninitiated, phonics is the theory which suggests that children should learn reading by sounding out individual phonemes in words, then learn how to "blend" them together where appropriate. It also suggests that it's sensible to teach six-year olds the words "morpheme", "phoneme", "grapheme", "digraph" and "trigraph" – words which I didn't come across until I studied English Language at A-level (age 16-18) and again at university.

The flaw, in case you haven't spotted it, is that English isn't a phonetic language. We have so many different ways of pronouncing each letter in our alphabet that using phonics to teach reading quickly becomes useless – and in the meantime, it fucks up spelling ability.

As if to emphasise this point, the official materials for teaching phonics from the government include an appendix of the most "high-frequency" words in the English language. Out of the thirty most-used words in the English language, fourteen of them are designated "tricky" words, which means that the phonics rules don't apply to them. Well, if the phonics rules don't apply to almost half of the most common words in the language, exactly what use is it to anyone?

The funny thing is, I can't remember how I learned to read. I imagine that's not an uncommon thought – childhood memories fade over time, after all – but I'm pretty sure it didn't involve phonics at any point. I can tell this because I can spell, and don't think that because "rough" is pronounced "r-u-ff" that it should be spelled that way too, which is what I see kids doing on a daily basis.

It's difficult to know what to suggest, though. Phonics is fashionable. Someone somewhere said it was "good" and it stuck. As with most fashions, this is nothing to do with how good it is. It is simply the "in" thing at the time.

It doesn't help, of course, that the leader of today's training day was a patronising, aggressive middle-aged harpy who clearly had a chip on her shoulder about something. Her holier-than-thou attitude towards phonics and teaching reading and her steadfast refusal to consider any alternatives (even doing an arrogant "shaking head" movement whenever anyone raised a point she didn't agree with) made everyone resent the process even more than its inherent stupidity already did.

This video pretty much sums up the problem:

(Thanks to Jeff Parsons for bringing this to my attention.)

Here's a poem, too. Don't say I'm not good to you.

I take it you already know
Of tough and bough and cough and dough?
Others may stumble, but not you,
On hiccough, thorough, lough and through?
Well done! And now you wish, perhaps,
To learn of less familiar traps?
Beware of heard, a dreadful word
That looks like beard and sounds like bird,
And dead: it’s said like bed, not bead –
For goodness sake don’t call it deed!
Watch out for meat and great and threat
(They rhyme with suite and straight and debt).
A moth is not a moth in mother,
Nor both in bother, broth in brother,
And here is not a match for there
Nor dear and fear for bear and pear,
And then there’s dose and rose and lose –
Just look them up – and goose and choose,
And cork and work and card and ward,
And font and front and word and sword,
And do and go and thwart and cart –
Come, come, I’ve hardly made a start!
A dreadful language? Man alive!
I’d mastered it when I was five!

Quoted by Vivian Cook and Melvin Bragg 2004,
by Richard Krogh, in D Bolinger & D A Sears, Aspects of Language, 1981,
and in Spelling Progress Bulletin March 1961, Brush up on your English.

One A Day, Day 3: Why Teaching Sucks

Those of you who follow me on Twitter or know me in general will be aware that my loathing for the teaching profession is well-documented. That, of course, didn't stop me making an ill-advised move back into it after successfully escaping for two years. But I wonder how many of you know why?

Let me tell you.

Teaching sucks. There are many reasons for this – the chief among which is that in many, many schools the possibility of actually undertaking the activity for which the profession is named – you know, "teaching" – is rendered impossible. This happens in lots of ways.

First of all, there is the declining standard of behaviour in the classroom. I have a Year 4 class – 8 and 9 year olds. These kids are already well-versed in backchat to teachers, violence towards each other, swearing, refusing to do work and taking advantage of supposed "special needs" to their own advantage. (This isn't, of course, to put down those kids that do have genuine difficulties learning things, but rather to put down those kids who use their supposed "condition" as an excuse to behave like a twat.)

When asking for support with children like this from senior staff, the inevitable response to the poor teacher is "you need to develop some strategies". Well, fine. Give me some. Some that work. Oh, wait, none actually do work? Right. Let's do some nonsense with traffic lights that they'll ignore then.

"Keep at it. Be consistent," they'll say. And fine, fair enough, you should be consistent in your rewards and punishments. But I am distinctly old-fashioned in the opinion that I feel children should know their place. It is not their place to question their teacher. It is not their place to refuse to do work. It is not their place to get up out of their seat and wander around the classroom. I remember the "naughty children" in my class at primary school well (largely because they were also the ones who would bully the meeker kids such as myself), and while they were silly and could be outright nasty at playtime, in the classroom there was never any wandering around or backchat. Now, it's not an exaggeration to say it's a daily occurrence.

Second among the reasons that teaching is impossible is everyone's favourite friend, bureaucracy. By the end of a single day, my desk will be covered with useless pieces of paper – notes, memos, charts, tables, percentages, requests for information. All of it is meaningless, and I don't know where it all comes from. Why do we need to know so much information? Why is the school I'm teaching at considered a "failing" school because of some of these figures? Yes, many pupils are making slow progress but that's because, frankly, many of them came in pretty low, don't get much support at home and don't have the slightest clue how to behave in the classroom, even when this is pointed out by their teacher. The fact that these children are learning anything at all should be considered a success.

Another stupid thing: the excessively celebratory nature of most schools these days. It reaches a level where it is utterly meaningless. Celebration of achievement is an important part of motivation, but when children are getting certificates in assembly for "sitting quietly all day" or "always being cheerful", I think we may be taking things a little far. (That travesty of an "awards" ceremony happens on a weekly basis, by the way.)

The theory runs that children respond better to praise and encouragement than punishments. Well, I am yet to see any evidence of that in the three schools I have taught in, amongst children aged anywhere between 8 and 16. Children respond to things that are "unpleasant" for them. They don't want to miss out on fun things, and they definitely don't want to look stupid in front of their friends. So why don't we have a weekly "anti-celebration assembly" where the naughtiest children of the week are brought up to the front of the school and admonished by the headmaster? Parents could be invited. It'd be fun.

The answer to that is, of course, that it's not politically correct to be negative. There's even a "golden ratio". There should be three times as much praise as there should be punishment. I don't know who came up with that statistic, but they probably had a clipboard.

Then there's the Tories' bright idea to bring in "superteachers". This is never going to work, because the profession has such a high turnover anyway – mostly for the reasons outlined above along with the stress and the health problems that causes – that limiting access to it smacks of stupidity. In fact, this article from the Daily Mash sums it up beautifully.

Those who find success and fulfilment in the teaching profession are either very brave, very resilient or very stupid. Whatever it is, they have my eternal respect, because I'm not one of them. At the first opportunity to arise, I will be out of that door, never to return.

And this time I mean it!