Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Option Three

You can't really argue with the Government's requirement that all FE teaching staff should be qualified and, if we're going to have a date for this to be effective then 2007 is as good as any. What I do argue with is what they regard as 'qualified'. At a medium sized FE College somewhere in England the CPD team got all the staff into the lecture theatre and listed the options available: all required at least 4 hours a week on what would be in most cases a two year course.

In the room were people who had been teaching for years, had consistently produced excellent success rates, could evidence good understanding of students' needs from SPOC forms and EV reports. Whilst one or two were types who wanted to spend best part of a day on the finer points of pedagogy, and even writing long essays on the topic in their spare time, the vast majority sat there wondering why there wasn't an Option Number 3. I decided to wonder out loud.

"Why isn't there an Option 3?" I asked. "Where it is abundantly clear that someone is first rate, or for that matter even reasonable rate, could there not be some kind of short assessment process, coupled with observations and something like a recommendation by a highly respected and qualified expert in the field, for them?"

Encouraged by what sounded like supportive but still anonymous, mumbles, I continued. "A bit like a driving test, really. You can spend weeks having lessons from an instructor but you may just naturally be good and/or have been running around without a licence and suddenly realised you need one. If you know your stuff then you just book a test and, all being well, pass and off you go again."

I realised that someone would spot the fact that that particular individual had been breaking the law by driving without a licence for years but couldn't quickly think up another suitable example. Someone did, which brought a bit of light relief to the session and also gave the presenter a few moments to figure out what to say.

Unfortunately, a few moments weren't long enough because after a few moments and a second or two, the supportive mumbles became more distinct. The presenter was a lovely person, very passionate about her subject and very knowledgeable too although she is pretty scared of new technology and was looking nervously at her laptop screen which was now displaying the Windows logo screensaver in its drunken lurch mode around the screen, also magnified and giving the audience who weren't too bothered about losing Monday afternoons and evenings something to watch while she thought. I noticed the union representative scribbling away and could easily make out the words Option Three, even in her appalling writing. She underscored the words twice, quite hard.

The presenter looked at me as if I'd just asked her to demonstrate how to download an mp3 file, extract a small section and add it as a sound track to her PowerPoint show. I mouthed "Sorry." I did like her, really.

"There isn't an Option 3," she said, in a way that should have had a full stop after it. "You have to do one of our courses, or pay for one of the other University ones."

The union rep added a big question mark, going round and round the dot with her pencil.

"Don't you think there should be?" someone else asked. "It could be a tough assessment process if you like but I'm sure we'd rather do that than waste, er, spend, all that time on studying something that we either know already or maybe don't know but don't need to know as much as some other skills that we do recognise as needing. IT for instance."

I could see where this might be going and was just getting all enthusastic about the chance both to sell my ILT sessions planned for the following week and make friends with the union representative who hadn't talked to me since she discovered I voted Conservative some years ago when I remembered that not only were Monday afternoons my ILT session days but also that practically all the people in the room were booked in to find out how to use Moodle, make their pcs do what they wanted, or try out useful new resources and applications.

Then the dunken lurch Windows logo disappeared and the screen went an unusually bright pink colour, with a small box with some strange message in the centre. "Oooh er," said the presenter, instinctively looking at me, as if I were the only person in the room who might be able to breathe life into the equipment.

While I was fiddling around with connections and various keys in a way that probably looked as if I knew what I was doing, the presenter whispered a genuine "Thank you." followed by a quiet "Must come and see you on Monday. You know what I'm like with all this technology."

"Not unless you can find an Option 3." I replied. "I'll be on this flaming course! But maybe we can fit some e-CPD training into it somehow. You know you've got to keep your portfolio up-to-date on using technology to enhance teaching and learning and all that now too."

"Oh no!" she exclaimed. "Do I have to?"
"Well, your minimum 30 hours a year professional development has to include some e-learning."
"How much?"
"That depends . . ."
"Depends on what?"
"Well, let me see. You want me to have 180 guided learning hours this year on something that isn't going to make much difference to anything other than my ability to get another job. I want you to spend a few hours that you know and I know could make a huge difference to the way you do your job, and will give you more confidence and no more SPOC comments about lesson materials not being on the intranet . . ."
"You want an Option 3 . . ."
"Uh huh. It's what a colleague of mine would call a 'no-brainer'"
"You'll have to change the Department's thinking on that. They specify approved qualifications and levels and all that. It's all in the White Paper."
"With really well-respected people like you backing the idea, it's worth a try."
The screen burst into life again and the audience applauded, a bit sarcastically, I thought, as I returned to my seat. The presenter looked out across the faces in the rows, scanning us all.
"Look, you should enrol on one of these courses," she started, "and I can't promise anything, but . . . "
That but nearly brought tears to my eyes. It was like one of those wonderful twists in a film when you think you've figured out a somewhat disappointing ending and discover that the next half-hour will keep you guessing after all.
" . . . if some of you could help me put a proposal together, we'll see if we can find some way to get another option. We'll also need someone with experience at negotiating with senior Civil Servants and some good contacts elsewhere in FE."
Quite why the union representative turned and smiled at me I have yet to find out. I suppose if she helps us win she'll expect me to reinstate the political levy on my subscription. A small price to pay, though.
I think that must be the first time so many people have enrolled on a course at the same time. I think that must also be the first time so many have also signed with their fingers crossed.

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