|"Abazungu": Arriving under the watchful eye of a quartet of children.|
Thursday 9th April 2015 - 9.30pm
Today was the day for me take the lead in a teaching and learning project.
During Monday’s meeting, I had planned to try and work with Jonan, the head teacher at New Foundation Primary School on the Katuna Road in Kabale. The focus was to be on the coaching model that I had been using since moving to Fulham Cross, all with the aim of trying to improve the quality of teaching.
I had also arranged for Suweyda to run an Art session with a different class whilst I was with Jonan.
Along with Huda, Molly and Sina, we headed over in a special hire to be greeted by a tidal wave of children chanting “abazungu” rhythmically at us through the gaps in the wooden fence.
New Foundation has a sprawling site set back from the recently re-laid road to the border with Rwanda. At regular intervals, large trucks, flanked by boda-bodas, would cough and splutter their way along, mingling their urban fumes with the early morning whisps of soft eucalyptus wood smoke from small fires that usually lend the area a more rural feel.
After some preliminary discussions, and the obligatory signing of the visitors’ book, I headed off to class P5 with Jonan and sat at the back of teacher James’ English class.
Sat with a good vantage over the whole classroom, it was clear that there was a large discrepancy between the ages of the students enrolled in P5. Some students were the expected age, but there were also a group of boys clearly in their mid-teens.
Often, if there are problems for a family in raising funds for scholastic equipment and uniform, there can be a delay in students starting their education despite the fact that Universal Primary Education means that all students, theoretically, have a place at any state primary school. Furthermore, pressures within a family may mean that a child is expected to work or support their family somehow. There are no attendance officers calling home to investigate.
Either way, this reality, where free education still isn’t necessarily free, can result in gaps in a child’s education meaning it isn’t that unusual for a 14-year-old to end up at the back of a primary school class.
As the school has been working with members of All Our Children over the years, namely Grigorios, the lesson that James had prepared was in fact quite inventive and involved group work techniques and role-play, both often absent in such large classes. It meant that, in my seventh visit, I was in many ways seeing the strongest student engagement in the learning environment to date.
After twenty minutes, keen not to cause James to panic about being too closely scrutinised, I suggested to Jonan that we left the room, thanking the teacher on the way out.
Whilst James continued his lesson, I talked Jonan through the basics of the GROW coaching model. It was safe to say that his natural enthusiasm for developing his small school meant that he was receptive to everything we discussed. Most importantly to me, he seemed to really enjoy the fact that coaching is best used as a constructive, rather than critical, approach to staff development – not a tool for monitoring or performance management.
Working with a consultant at Fulham Cross, I have worked on developing how I use my questioning to help coachees to deconstruct their own teaching, rather than me trying to impart my eight years of ‘wisdom’. With this is mind, I ran through a few scenarios with Jonan modelling the digging deeper approach of gently probing questions. We set a date for the feedback with James to take place shortly after morning break the following day.
Conscious that I had left Suweyda in charge of an art project with a large group of children usually run by teacher with nearly 20 years’ experience, I went over to investigate what was happening on the playing field.
Expecting to see paint and paper strewn everywhere and the four WMSF students cowering in the corner, I was pleasantly surprised to find a hive of purposeful industry with only a few paint marks visible on hijabs and abayahs.
Across the width of the field a line was hung up and all the various prints that the students had been working on for the last hour or so were pegged on it to dry. Every imaginable shape and design was attempted: Africa, Uganda, cars, Ankore cattle, houses and accidental back-to-front writing.
With the sun beginning to break out from behind the thick Kabale mist, and lunchtime beckoning, we said our goodbyes and headed back to the road to where our taxi driver had recently returned.
Late that afternoon we got involved in what is fast becoming an annual custom: throwing the WMSF girls into mixed basketball teams with the well-drilled and well-trained girls of Kigezi High School. This year, the match was a closely run thing between the two teams and the reluctant west London ladies soon let the adrenaline take over and put up a good showing despite their fatigue from a busy morning. The coach even offered to sign a few of them, but couldn’t guarantee meeting their wage demands.
The night was a quiet one, spent at the hotel, with a few rounds of Waragi and tonic shared along with some improvised music courtesy of Tamera.