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Michaela’s Blog

Posted on March 14, 2015 by Barry Smith

And if I told you I don’t believe in lesson plans?

Lesson plans – they’re a bit of a nonsense. Don’t you think? In fact, I’ll go further. Lesson plans hold kids back and encourage teachers to focus on all the wrong things.

So does that mean I just roll up and freewheel my way through lessons? Not really. But it does mean I work according to a set of principles that allow me to teach, largely, on autopilot. Teach on autopilot? That sounds strangely complacent! Not really. I keep to my key principles. My lessons are uncluttered. I have the flexibility to tweak lessons on the hoof.

I’m largely on autopilot because I don’t have a lot to think about. Teaching really does not have to be complicated. When something goes ‘wrong’ I can react quickly. Though things rarely go ‘wrong’ because I preempt problems mostly. I know what kids get wrong in the main and I teach to preemt.

Kids come in. I’m immediately firing questions or we’re all chanting the alphabet in French. They’re not idly chatting. There’s no room for that. The questions I fire out are usually grammar based. I focus on the stuff I want them to retain and reuse across topics.

Comment dit-on…

I’ve done? Having done? Whilst doing? After having done? I am going to do? I would like to do?

I am? I am not? I went? I didn’t go? It was? It wasn’t? I played? I didnt play? I would like to play?

Structures. I just fire simple mark winning structures at the kids as they get their stuff out and they stand behind their chairs. They know these structures. I’m just keeping them fresh. At the front of the mind. I want these structures to be instant. I might give clues:

It was; C apostrophe. Il y a in accent.

I would like: JV. Deux lettres espace huit lettres.

They are is ‘ils sont’ . Comment dit-on ‘They went’ Trois mots. le troisième mot contient cinq lettres.

Comment dit-on:

I must go? I F Q J apostrophe.

I most do? I F Q J F

Although I am? Ce n’est pas ‘ je sUIs’. Il faut le subjonctif!

These questions can last as long, or as short, a time as I want. I can ping what I what at whom I want. None of this is written down. No random name generator. No lolly sticks. The kids are just getting their stuff out.

Si vous voulez vous pouvez enlever…

vos chaussures?  Non!

vos chaussettes? Non!

vos chemises? Non!

vos cravates? Non!

vos vestes? Oui!!!

Asseyez-vous!

This is all super quick and all on autopilot. Them and me. We’re all on auto-pilot. It’s a bit of a laugh. They’ve joined in. We’ve recycled stuff they know. They’re already feeling accomplished. Nothing’s written down.

No silly learning objectives. No wasteful patronising starters. We just get on with ‘it’, But what’s the ‘it’? My lesson planning, my core questions, are these. They’re always the same. They’re never typed on a pro forma.

What are kids likely to find hard in this topic?

Why?

How can I prempt the high frequency errors that typically eat into lesson time?

How can I incorporate PROFS – past reasons opinions future subjunctive – into this topic?

How can I ensure they will retain this stuff?

How could a lazy kid hide or sabotage this lesson?

I don’t use a text book. Be great if I could. But until I write one I stick with the resources I create and I recycle. I do teach ‘topics’ – but kind of loosely. There’ll never be a PowerPoint with pictures and one word at a time. There’ll be lengthy passages that include phrases such as:

Il est rare que je fasse mes devoirs dans ma chambre

parce que je préfère faire mes devoirs dans le salon

en regardant la télé ou en écoutant de la musique

mais malheureusement

ma mère veut que je fasse mes devoirs dans la salle à manger

Hier, ayant fait mes devoirs dans la chambre de mon frère

mais avant d’écouter de la musique dans la cuisine

j’ai regardé la télé dans la salle de bains.

I’m teaching ‘rooms in the house’. No PowerPoint. No pictures. Kids are reading a text stuffed with grammar. We’re recycling language they know. I want them to recycle so they really NOT nearly know it. The text in front of them is flat. The sentences are short. Or rather, I present long sentences in short chunks. Every line is numbered. Kids follow the text with a ruler. We read aloud.  We link the written word to the spoken word. I never let sloppy pronunciation go unchallenged. The kids are developing very nice accents as a consequence. They listen very carefully as their peers read out loud. They readily correct one another’s pronunciation. But in a very supportive way.

The next step is often: find the French equivalent for these 40 English phrases from the passage:

i want,

in fact,

it’s the least that one can say,

in general,

frankly,

the room of bathing,

having watched.

Why 40 questions? The number isn’t set in stone. The point is, I want kids to work through the passage line by line in silence for 10 to 15 minutes. The most willing kids need to be occupied for that time. I go for volume of questions combined with richness of language. There’s good range and it’s recyclable language. The less willing kids have no hiding place. They are forced to accomplish lots as they work through the passage. And of course, because they do succeed, they genuinely feel accomplished and clever and next lesson they come in feeling able. The willing kids, in fact all of the kids, are getting quicker and quicker at this kind of exercise. Their pronunciation, their retention, their range – it’s really coming on.

There’s loads more I do. I can’t fit it all in one blog. Suffice to say. No formalised written lesson plan, no attempt to be whizzy and ‘engaging’, no powerpoints. I build from my key questions. The language is rich. I ignore nonsense nc levels. I ensure lazy kids can’t hide. Everyone works hard and feels accomplished. And we have  a laugh!

In languages, grammar is the glue that holds everything together, so I’m constantly recycling the mark winning grammar. But beyond MFL, just the bread and butter job of teaching, I’d always say, if you can, have a laugh with the kids. And then…make them work their socks off!

Anyway, that’s some of the stuff I do. My kids are doing really well. This stuff works. It’s simple, uncluttered, invariably didactic and very often a good giggle.

Posted on  March 13, 2015 by Barry Smith

Why Reading Out Loud in MFL Works Amazingly Well.

Got to be honest. I’m not a fan of choral repetition with pictures. You know, the silly voices, one word at a time. I find it all a bit patronising. The efficacy of the choral repetition approach soon wears off too, I find, as kids get older and they tire of barking at pretty pictures on the screen. So no, choral repetition, in the main, it’s not for me.

But I do love to get kids reading aloud. I love to get kids analysing the written word and linking it to the spoken word. I do a lot of dual text work, that is, side by side English and French texts where every single word is translated. the English translations are often a bit ‘dodgy’ to reflect French syntax. So, for example: j’ai joué au foot, is translated as, I’ve played at foot. J’ai les yeux bleus becomes I’ve the eyes blue. My Y7 readily say, ‘Franchment mon prof de français me tape sur les nerfs et c’est le moins qu’on puisse dire’ which translates as ‘ My teacher of French me taps on the nerves, it’s the least that one can say.’ The English and French syntax are completely transparent. There’s no guess work. Kids know the English is ‘dodgy’. I equate it to Google translate. You kind of get it but it sounds a bit weird.

What’s lovely is, is that kids ask loads of real linguist questions. So Sir, if I took off X and added Y would that mean Z? They understand every word so they can deconstruct & reconstruct the language.

Also, since they’re reading the written word lots, their pronunciation is really, really good. I’m very explicit about pronunciation. I’m very explicit about the repetitive nature of language, about the very limited number of letter combinations that are recycled again & again. I’ve very tight when it comes to silent letters and liaisons.

The kids now roll a pretty mean ‘r’, silent letters at the end of words don’t phase them, their liaisons are pretty impressive too, pretty natural in fact. They are very good with silent ‘ll’ and the silent ‘h’. “C’est évident ” they tell me with confidence and excellent prononciation.  They also tell me,  ” les lettres ‘nt’ à la fin sont muettes”. They’re great at that, using French to comment upon the language itself.

They’re good at all this, in part, because we read extended texts lots, I read out loud lots, they read out loud lots, we use dual texts lots. There are lots of reasons they’re doing so well. But lots of access to the written word and transparent silly, memorable literal syntax is central.

You may disagree but, as my Y7 say, in beautifully pronounced French, “My teacher of French me takes the head. Frankly he himself takes for the belly button of the world. It’s the least that one can say.”

Posted on March 7, 2015 

Fancy a job in a place like this?

People come to interview at my school and I think they’re a bit taken aback. The corridors are silent at lesson changeovers; kids line up, eyes front, to enter the building; kids sit with their arms folded in lessons; they say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ a lot; if a kid’s collar is a bit skew-whiff one of his peers will silently sort it out for him; if a kid drops something, his peers instantly help him; at lunch kids each have a role, they serve each other, they chat enthusiastically, politely, taking turns. All that stuff, courtesy, mutual respect, it’s a bit weird at first. Well, for some anyway.

But actually, the people that come into my French classroom, rarely mention the impeccable manners, the superb behaviour, the wrapt attention. What really blows visitors away is the enthusiasm, the sea of hands, the excellent pronunciation, the extended responses habitually featuring past, reasons, opinions, future and subjunctive. And the atmosphere is playful! I laugh, the kids laugh. We have a giggle whilst at the same time these kids really know how to analyse language, how to memorise, to recycle across context, to really deconstruct and reconstruct.

It’s a joy to spend time with these kids, to listen to them correct the French on the board, ” Mais c’est evident Monsieur. Il faut ajouter un e à la fin parce que le mot ‘chambre’ est féminin.’ It’s a delight to be with these kids at break time as they crowd around you to share what they’ve learnt that morning or they ask to be challenged to spell, in French, the incredibly long words they’ve learnt in science.

Why do I love my job so much? And let’s not forget that it’s just a job. It’s just a part of my life. I hate all that ‘teacher as martyr’ stuff.

I love my job because I teach. Very simply, I teach. I laugh. The kids laugh. They call me: vieux, chauve and zinzin. I reply: dingue, cinglé and n’importe quoi! It’s fun. Not in the, games, distractions, fads and gimmicks, sense of the word. But in the, I’m going to teach you all the intricacies of this subject, I’m going to pitch high, I’m going to make the content memorable, I’m going to preempt the stumbling blocks and you’re going to leave this lesson feeling energised, accomplished and confident, sense of the word.

I work in a school where every child, every lesson, expects to be taught. To be talked at, to receive precise explanations, to be didactically, authoritatively, memorably, passionately taught by a real subject expert. So the kids go from lesson to lesson, in silence, keeping to the left, knowing that the next lesson, like the lesson before, will be 100% focused on effective learning. Lessons aren’t planned to placate the lazy, or entertain the indolent, lessons aren’t structured to fit a despotic pro forma in the hope of appeasing a fad-chasing SLT. Lessons are simply structured. What do kids find hard? Why? How can I teach this better so the content is memorable, transparent and challenging?

Anyway, if you fancy working in a school where the kids are diamonds, silence is golden and charismatic delivery, combined with subject passion, is welcomed with open arms, get in touch!

Published on October 13, 2014

What Really Matters

My blogs prior to September 2014 were written when I earned my living giving inset. I suspect I am part of a very small band of people who once earned their living from giving inset but who then have returned to full time teaching. I may be wrong.

These older blogs were written at a time when I used to regularly meet teachers who were often angry, sad and confused. They often felt confined, forced to teach in a way that was, in fact, an anathema to them. They would shake their heads at the fads that would come and go. They would beat their chests at the gimmicks that would wax and wane. They would bend over backwards to please the powers that be.

I met happy teachers too! Of course! The teachers who were told by their SLT that they were “outstanding”, they were happy. They felt a lot of pressure to find the next “game changer du jour” but they were happy-ish.

Of course there were lots of teachers who were told they were “good” and they came to me looking for a new game or an acronym or magic formula that would win over their SLT in their next observation so they too could be – “Outstanding”!!!

Anyway, here’s a blog, maybe a bit anachronistic now, have a read, see what you think. As ever, it could be just some bloke ranting into the ether or, maybe, just maybe, there might be some food for thought buried in my not so elegant prose.

Cheers Barry

Someone suggested I write a blog on “objectives” and I thought, “Hey, why not?” So here, goes…

This blog is, on some levels, meant as a bit of advice to new teachers. On other levels it’s a commentary on the nod-a-long conformity that is so often encouraged in teaching. It’s an attempt to question “good practice”. Cos, you know, very often, “good practice” really isn’t that good.

So much in education, that is, so many of the fads and fashions that come and go, they never arrive empty-handed. They arrive, not only with the fanfare that says, “This is the panacea you’ve all been waiting for!”, but they arrive with the expectation that we adopt the latest “magic formula” without ever actually questioning its value, its roots or its learning impact.

So many of the “must-do” miracles of modern pedagogic orthodoxy don’t leave a lot of room for discussion or independent thought – it seems to me.

“Shut up and do as you’re told!” prevails in many schools, I’d suggest. That’s not teachers talking to kids. No! Perish the thought that adults should tell kids what to do.

“Do as you’re told, fit in, never stand out if you want to be outstanding.” That’s more the mantra that teachers are encouraged to adopt to ensure conformity.

Of course, if you “do as your told”, if you “tow the line”, if you never “rock the boot”, if you dutifully recycle the nod-a-long “thinking-lite” soundbites that permeate education orthodoxy, you’ll soon be recognised as “outstanding”.

In an avalanche of green, amber and red, in a tsunami of lolly sticks, in a blizzard of independent brain-based multi-sensorial interactive 21st C personalised deep learning – you’ll be praised to the hilt.

Which is a shame. Because praise is addictive. And, even if you’re being praised for teaching by star sign, delivery through mime or, better still, facilitating through stealth – praise brings with it a buzz and we like that buzz of acceptance.

It’s very easy to get sucked into the concept of “if others like it, it must be good stuff”. See, you’re probably working on the premise that those observing you have given this stuff some serious thought. And maybe they have! In some schools you’ll be observed by some great teachers who are critical, challenging, supportive, sharp and insightful. They’ll tell you some stuff that’ll maybe smart a little and they’ll tell you some stuff that’ll make you really question every hackneyed essential “good practice” Pavlovian learned response embedded via not good enough ITT and CPD.

That’s brill! If you’re working with teachers that think – you’re in a great place. Teachers should never be afraid to question “good practice”. Teachers should be constantly analysing and dissecting “good practice” based upon the evidence they see before them daily. Teachers should be constantly asking…

What do my kids find hard? Why?

How can I teach differently so the hard bits become accessible?

How can I do that without dumbing down?

How can kids hide in my lessons?

How can I pre-empt the most common errors through precise and concise teaching?

How can I convince them that success in this subject is just a set of habits that need lots of practice?

How can I make those success habits explicit and ensure they weave through every lesson?

They’re the sort of questions teachers should be asking themselves – I’d suggest. But instead a lot of teachers are encouraged to focus upon…

How can I demonstrate “engagement”?

How can I get some group work in here?

How could I include mini-whiteboards?

How can I incorporate technology?

How do I make the lesson objectives fit the SLT prescribed format?

None of those questions really get to the heart of teaching, I’d suggest. None of those questions help teachers better understand themselves, their strengths, weaknesses, areas for development. None of those questions focus the teacher on the kids in front of them – not really.

Those questions are about embodying, demonstrating, replicating, parroting “good practice”. Those questions don’t encourage teachers to reflect on the kids in front of them or on their own potential. I think that’s a shame.

If change is going to start anywhere, it’s going to have to be with the adult in the room, the teacher, who gets to understand himself and his vision and the little and big habit changes he needs to make to really impact upon learning.

So learning objectives typed onto a powerpoint, following the prescribed format, maybe with some snazzy font and zingy effects – that might be “good practice” but it’s not great teaching or learning – I’d suggest.

If you like, or rather, if your SLT like, give your objectives in the “All, Most, Some” format. If SLT like WILF and WALT, if they salivate over EBI,  if they want objectives in the form of questions, if they love SOLO – go on then, feed them the thing that they crave. That’s the game.

But I worry about this imperative to please observers at all costs. There’s a real danger that “the observer is king” mantra encourages crowd-pleasing conformist, mechanistic, lobotomised teaching, robotic unthinking teaching, the kind of teaching by numbers that corresponds perfectly to an SLT designed tick list but doesn’t necessarily let the teacher grow and develop their potential.

I guess my point is: lesson objectives – they don’t need to be written to be at the heart of everything you do. Just because they’re written, copied down and referred to, as per prescribed procedure, at designated lesson intervals, that doesn’t mean the teacher has really asked the important questions about what holds kids back or pushes kids forward.

So, new teachers, nod your head, do as your told, tick the boxes, it’s the game and, besides, nobody likes a smartarse. But when you’re praised for your capacity to follow the party line, to swallow the sound bite, to nod-a-long, just remember that, one day you’ll move to another school and the definitive unequivocal “truth” that seemed set in stone in your first school, well in your next school they’ll laugh at it, as they’ve moved on to “the next big thing”.

Take the panaceas with a pinch of salt, take a moment to think about what you really believe in. What’s your vision of a brilliant lesson? What would you want a fly on the wall to see? Try working towards that – that’s my suggestion.

Posted on February 27, 2015 by Bodil Isaksen

Maths everywhere

Here’s how we squeeze in maths outside of maths lessons, without compromising subject content in other lessons.
  1. Rolling numbers

Rolling numbers is a great first step for embedding times tables. Ultimately, we want our children to know each times table out of order and without counting on their fingers. But rolling helps the children get a feeling for the patterns. Incorrect answers start sounding out of place. But the main reason I do it really is that the children simply love it.

You can break out a quick roll anytime and anywhere. Outside in the playground when lining up to come in. Between main course and dessert at family lunch. At the end of form time when you got them stood behind their chairs a little too early.

It’s nice to drop in some other rolls once they’re confident with the basics. Can they roll their 18s? Their 25s? Their 3.5s? Their 0.303s? You can then follow up with a conversation about how they figured each number out. Decimal rolls in particular are great for reinforcing place value.

  1. Quick-fire everywhere

I’m lucky enough to work in a school where all teachers recognise the central importance of number facts. All staff help pupils by firing questions like times tables or square roots to individual pupils in spare moments. I’ve seen this work particularly well in the queue for the toilet at break time.

As we’ve gone through the year, staff have become good at working out who needs what, adjusting the level of challenge for the pupil as appropriate. One pupil might be asked 7 + 8, and the next to find the difference between the square root of 169 and 25.

I love this for so many reasons. It has zero resource cost. If a pupil is struggling, the teacher can go straight into a one-on-one pep talk about the importance of automaticity. It really makes the pupils feel like every staff member cares about them automating their number facts – not just the maths teachers.

  1. Maths Mugshots

In order to super-size the effect of quick fire, I produce one pagers with photos of the pupils who need particular attention. I print A3 posters showing the slowest pupils’ names and photos. These are stuck up in the office, staff room, by the photocopier and even in the staff loos.

Teachers can hone in on those pupils and fire a quick question at them every time they see them. They can also use it to generally encourage and check in on the pupil. It’s not watertight: I don’t expect teachers to recall perfectly who is on the posters. But if it means even one kid gets one bit more practice in the thing they need, then I think it’s worth it.

  1. Number chains

Start with a number. Multiply it by something. What do you get? Take off something. What have you got now? Then square the answer. Then halve that… You get the picture. I run number chains like a fast paced game of Pepper with enough wait time to keep everyone on board. I tend to do a mix of hands up and cold call.

Number chains are fantastically adaptable. You can make them as difficult or as easy as you like. You can easily link them to current learning. You can play with any size group. You can have a number chain that lasts a few seconds or many minutes.

They are perfect for when you’re waiting for any reason. We play if we have to wait to leave the classroom while another class is filing past in the corridor. We play with the first pupils to arrive in the lunch hall whilst waiting for the other classes to come down. We play before PE when some pupils are changed into their kit before others.

  1. Times table rockstars

The best £50 your department can spend. TTRockstars takes on a life of its own. I do next to no promotion of TTRockstars, but our pupils answer tens of thousands of times table questions a day. Hype up the launch week, buy some inflatable instruments and whacky glasses, then sit back and watch.

  1. Scores on the door

We have an IXL subscription which gives pupils endless high quality practice. Every day, I publish the whole year rankings, right from top place to bottom place, for time spent on IXL the night before. It is purely an effort measure: it ranks based on time spent, not difficulty of topic or percentage success. Pupils who really struggle are on a level playing field with those who don’t.

We have numerous pupils choosing to do over 2 hours of IXL a night. These aren’t all existing high attainers: they span right across the spectrum. They are speeding ahead of their peers. Those spending the least time deserve to know what the standard is. I don’t want them to wallow in denial about how hard everyone else is working. I want pupils to know where they stand. They want to know where they stand too. They love crowding round to see what position they came in.

The sign it’s working? The median time spent is usually around 45 minutes a night. Different names come in the top 10 each day. And I just got an email from IXL saying my pupils had answered over 600,000 problems since September. Can’t say fairer than that.

Posted on February 28, 2015

Which knowledge?

I often ask pupils at family lunch at Michaela what their favourite subject is. Many of them reply, ‘I love every subject, sir!’ What we choose to teach plays a big part in how much our pupils love learning. 

At Michaela, we decide which knowledge to teach based on three principles: schemata,challenge, and coherence.

Schemata

Our aim is to help pupils remember everything they are learning, and master the most important content. To this end, subject content knowledge is best organised intothe most memorable schemataSo we organise history and English literature chronologically. We start in Year 7 with classical antiquity: in History we study Mesopotamia, Egypt, Greece, Rome and Roman Britain; in Religion, we study polytheism, The Old and New Testament, Judaism and Christianity; in English, we study Greek mythology, The Odyssey, Roman Rhetoric, epic poetry and Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar; in Art, we study Egyptian, Greek and Roman art, sculpture and architecture. Chronological, cumulative schemata help pupils remember subject knowledge in the long-term: not for ten weeks or ten months, but for ten years and beyond.

 

Challenge

The subject knowledge we choose to teach our pupils to master is the most vital and the most challenging content. The pupils we teach often arrive at school far behind, unable to read fluently or multiply. Many have a vocabulary of under 6,000 words, while wealthier pupils often have over 12,000. So the opportunity cost of anything other than the most challenging subject content is high. Only the most challenging topics with the most stretching vocabulary, combined with high support so all pupils understand and use it accurately, will allow them to compete academically with the 96% of private school pupils who reach University. We dedicate extended teaching time for mastery of grammar, spelling and vocabulary, the hidden bodies of knowledge that make for accurate writing. Our pupils will have vivid memories of reading some of the most complex and beautiful texts ever written: Shakespeare’s Othello, Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels, Shelley’sFrankenstein, Orwell’s 1984, Malcolm X’s autobiography, Duffy’s The Worlds’ Wife, and Mandela’s A Long Walk to Freedom.

Coherence

Subject knowledge we select dovetails cohesively across and between subjectsAt Michaela, our pupils will remember Year 7 as the year they learnt about classical civilisation. Across subjects, they are making exciting connections. Sacrifice, for instance, recurs in the stories of Abraham and Isaac in religion, with Agamemnon and Iphigenia or Minos and Theseus in Greek mythology. Across English and Science, the planet Mercury is named after the swift Greco-Roman messenger god as it is the fastest-moving planet, taking 88 days to orbit the sun. A dovetailed knowledge curriculum allows pupils to make these fascinating connections for themselves, and understand the ideas of democracy, dictatorship, hubris, nemesis, tragedy and monotheism from their early origins.

In short, we select challenging, sequenced, coherent schemata within and across subjects, so that our pupils remember what they’ve learned for years to come.

Posted on January 17, 2015 by Katie Ashford

 How do we get them reading?

This post is intended to help teachers who are at a complete loss as to why their pupils can’t read. I’m not saying I have all the answers- what I am proposing is not a definitive solution to the problem of reading, but it outlines some of the things I wish someone had told me when I started teaching. There is a range of things you could do, of course. These are just some of the things I have learnt over the past few years that I have seen work well.

Countless secondary schools across the country are faced with this problem. It is an absolute travesty that many children start secondary school unable to read. It means they will struggle to access a KS3 curriculum, and because many secondary schools lack the time, funding and frankly, the expertise to teach children how to read, they can often slip through the net and make very limited progress in reading over 5 years. I felt compelled to write this post because I have had to spend hours and hours researching, reading and trying to understand what on earth we can do to solve this problem. It is my hope that a few secondary teachers will read this and feel empowered to do something about a problem that likely does exist in their schools.

Step 1: Assessment.

You cannot begin to teach children to read if you don’t know where they are to begin with. Lots of schools use the Accelerated Reader reading test. This is okay, but it won’t give you much of a breakdown of their ability. So you won’t know whether their strengths lie in vocabulary or comprehension, which can make it more difficult to determine what support they need. I would recommend the New Group Reading Test by GL assessment. They do an online version and it generates very easy to understand reports.

Once you have your reading age results, get all the pupils with a reading age below their chronological age to do a decoding test. I would recommend the WRAT test. It takes about 3 minutes per child (done individually) and anyone can administer it. All they have to do is read a list of words until they can’t read anymore. It’s simple.

Step 2: Placement.

 The WRAT test contains instructions for converting their score into a Standardised Age Score (SAS). If they have an SAS below 80, they need to do a phonics programme. If they are between 81 and 100, they need some fluency work, and usually some support with spelling (but this may vary, depending on the child).

Step 3: Phonics.

Badger your SLT and make them invest in a good phonics programme. I would highly recommend Ruth Miskin’s Fresh Start for any pupils in year 7 with a low decode score. It could be taught to kids in higher years, but some of the resources are a bit young. I haven’t found a better programme that is more age appropriate, however, so I’d still recommend this one. They’ll need 3 sessions of 45 minutes a week. It will take about 6 – 8 months, depending on how weak they are when they start. Find the money and the time in the timetable. It’s worth it. If you or members of your school’s SLT have ideological reservations surrounding phonics, get over it. A phonics programme WILL work if it is delivered properly, and not doing it because you don’t believe in it is borderline immoral. #justsayin.

Step 4: Fluency

Lots of pupils can decode, but still read in a very stilted, awkward way, without expression or much of an understanding of emphasis, tone or intonation in reading. It is important that all children can read fluently, as it frees up space in working memory to focus on comprehension. If all you are thinking about is how to pronounce the words, you aren’t concentrating on the content.

There are lots of ways to solve this. Firstly, they need to be reading aloud often- at least once a day, if possible. A simple way to do this is to read aloud in class. At Michaela, our pupils read aloud in all subjects. I’m very lucky to work with excellent humanities, maths, science, art and French teachers who recognise the importance of reading, and will happily ask pupils to read aloud in their lessons. You could also get them into the habit of reading aloud when they read at home, but this is obviously harder to monitor.

Secondly, if you have the time, you could try to do some timed repeated reading practice with the pupils concerned. Here is a good video outlining what this looks like.

Step 5: Comprehension

There isn’t a magic bullet for this one, unfortunately. It takes a very long time to build, and the poorer kids’ comprehension is to start with, the slower it improves. But there are important points to note here. Firstly, comprehension is heavily underpinned by knowledge. A 1988 study by Rechts and Leslie tested the comprehension of weak and strong readers with the same text. They found that poor readers with a good knowledge of the content (baseball) outperformed the strong readers with poor knowledge of baseball. Read more about this here, or there’s a nice video you can watch here. So the first step is to cram them with as much knowledge as possible.

Another option is to use these resources by McGraw Hill. They are expensive, but are completely scripted and extremely well sequenced. A teaching assistant can deliver these sessions, and each one takes about 20-25 minutes. Again, time would need to be built into the day for this, as you wouldn’t want to take them out of mainstream lessons and therefore give them less access to the knowledge they need to get better at reading.

A few more points

Finally, if you have exceptionally weak readers, I would recommend getting in touch with Dianne Murphy (@thinkreadtweet), whose reading programme has enormous impact on weak readers. Definitely worth a look.

Of course, to make any of this work, reading must be a central part of the school culture. Pupils must have access to a range of texts, and must learn to love reading. Next week, I will blog about building a culture of reading in a school, and motivating pupils to read. I think these two aspects of reading are so vital that they merit their own post. The five steps above are intended to help literacy leads or English teachers who don’t know where to begin with reading, as I didn’t a few years ago. Of course, I am still no expert- far from it! I’m just passing on some of the wisdom I have been fortunate enough to stumble upon over the last few years.

Happy reading!