My work details, 1963 - 1994

Just came across this CV, written in 1994  when I was thinking of coming to the U.S.

I'm posting it as I have been asked many times about my teaching experience.  

Here it is. In its original format..........

Thumbnail sketch of my career    1963 - 1994

1963 – 1965

My first teaching post was in the small town of Stafford, at Trinity Fields Secondary School, for 11 to 15 year olds. As the newest and youngest member of the science department, I taught – and taught badly - Physics, Chemistry, Biology and Human Biology, to 11, 12, and 13 year old pupils, including many recently arrived from the Asian continent, unable to speak or understand English.

During my two years at Trinity Fields, helped by an incredible 'awareness-raising' learning experience with a boy called Tiger Reynolds, his disinterest in school and his fascination with a spider, I developed an engaging strategy for introducing pupils to the world of science, viz. ‘Hands 0n’ pocket museum activity. (See the story of Tiger at the end of this post.)

Tiger helped lay the foundation for my enduring passion and interest in classroom science, especially in the ways material drawn from the ‘wild’ environment motivates and engages children. Bringing the outdoors indoors, I learned, intrigued my pupils, especially those experiencing schooling difficulties.

Thank you, Tiger.

1965 – 1967

Hearing and reading about the exciting science and mathematics curriculum work going on in Leicestershire Primary Schools when Stewart Mason, the Director of Education, abolished the 11  +, I moved from the secondary sector in 1965, joining the staff of a large primary school, Blaby Stokes. In January, 1965, I assumed  the teaching responsibility for a large class of 10/11 year old boys and girls.

Supported by an understanding and supportive progressive Headmaster, Mr. Ted Ward, I developed a strong 'hands-on' science and mathematics bias to my teaching, using rocks, fossils, insects and plants as engaging and motivating resources for encouraging reading, writing, painting, mathematics and science. It appeared to work well, enthusing me as well as my children, many of whom, I later learned, went on to enthusiastically study science throughout their secondary and higher education.

Whilst at Blaby Stokes, I had opportunity to develop other school teaching skills away from the classroom. I reorganized and managed the school library, led staff debate and discussion on the content of an appropriate mathematics and science curriculum, ran the school football team, and organized residential trips for the pupils to North Wales and the Isle of Wight.

My classroom became a visiting spot for teachers from America [1]. They came to see how I integrated science and mathematics in my primary classroom.

Len Sealey, the Primary Schools Advisor to the Leicestershire LEA, spent several days in and around my classroom, making a film he used in his In-service work for teacher education, and at conferences and workshops in Africa and America.

Later, Bill Browse, Sealey’s successor, invited me to join the Advisory Center as a science and environmental education specialist with the remit to ‘introduce and develop science’ in Leicestershire Primary School classrooms [2].

I had been at Blaby less than two years.

Although the Education Authority was keen to raise the level of science curriculum interest in its schools, few resources were available – which, in hindsight, was perhaps a blessing. Bill Browse gave me a few tins, a map of the county, and, with a smile, said, “Hey, that’s it. See what you can do.”

With a wide open brief (and a petrol allowance) I enthusiastically set out to discover parts of the Leicestershire countryside that could be explored by young children for investigative activity That done, my next task was identifying classrooms and teachers with whom I could work – and, consequently, learn more about how children learn.

Using my limited resources and my unlimited energy and enthusiasm, and pocketfuls (and tins) of nature’s delights, my next six years work included:

• ·      Working with Headteachers who were keen to introduce science in their schools;
• ·      Routinely visiting and working in a variety of town and village classrooms with pupils aged 5 to 11;
• ·      Identifying those teachers who knew their teaching would benefit from attending a meeting or ‘hands-on’ science workshop with like-minded teachers;
• ·      Supporting teachers in their classrooms as they attempted to introduce science activities in their classrooms;
• ·      Providing an ear and an eye for LEA officers and administrators who were anxious to hear of school and classroom changes;
• ·      Leading outdoor and indoor workshops with teachers, using the ‘wild’ environment as a resource. 
• 
  
•       This work, incidentally, was often observed by visiting advisory/inspectorial staff who were involved in the current Nuffield Science and Mathematics in other school districts, and educators from America who were using ideas developed by Dr. David Hawkins and his staff at the Federally funded Elementary Science Study, based in Boston, Mass, USA.;
• ·      Taking teachers on residential visits to the LEA’s Outdoor Pursuits Center in Aberglaslyn, North Wales, helping them plan their trips with young children;
• ·      Working with parents of very young children in evening workshop sessions led by Marjorie Kay, the Infant School advisor, focusing on ways in which adults and children learn together;
• ·      Presenting evening talks to parents about school science;
• ·      Working with the Secondary Schools Advisor to create an effective school curriculum for disaffected High School pupils;
• ·      Developing links between schools and the city museum (a project funded by the Carnegie Foundation) which led to the appointment of an Education Officer – which, in turn, led to a school loans program that brought fossils, rocks and minerals, and historical artifacts in to schools);
• ·      Setting up the first day visit Field Study Center for Leicestershire primary schools. I took over a disused village primary school in the village of Foxton, on the banks of the Grand Union canal. This was an ideal site as a resource center for outdoor work with young children, still in use to the present day [3];
• ·      A year or so after the opening of Foxton (where I ran 92 consecutive day workshops for teachers) Leicestershire LEA opened two other centers, one at Hoby, and the other in Thurmaston;
• ·      Frequent late hour education-focused discussions with colleagues Bill Browse, Tony Kallet, and numerous visiting American educators, including David and Frances Hawkins, Bill Hull, John Holt, Philip Morrison, Tom Justice, and many others;
• ·      Leading science and environmental education workshops at the LEA’s Easter Residential Course for Primary School Teachers, held at Loughborough University. This was a particularly successful annual in-service education program, led by Bill and Tony, which attracted over 100 teachers over the Easter week;
• ·      I was a pioneer in developing strong links between schools and the newly established local radio; [4]
• ·      I was a guest speaker at several science conferences held in different cities across Great Britain.

1967 – 1970

The science going on in Leicestershire Primary Schools attracted many educators in the late 60s – all wanting to see ways in which environmental science resources were used to motivate and engage young children. Several American colleagues, including Tom Justice, Charles Rathbone, John Holt and Roland Barth, shadowed my advisory work, especially at the Foxton Field Study Center.

During the summers of 1967, 1968, and 1969, I wrote several articles on Environmental Education, and ran many science-based workshops. During this period, I was invited to work with teachers (and, incidentally, Professor David Hawkins) at summer workshops in Montpelier and Boston, using science ideas and resources I had developed running workshops in Great Britain.

1970 – 1971

David and Frances Hawkins invited me to join them as a full time staff member at the opening of the Mountain View Center, in Boulder, Colorado, an education project funded by the Ford Foundation, and managed by the University of Colorado, Boulder.  My work at Mountain View in its first year included working closely with David [5], Frances, Elwyn Richardson [6], Jane Richtmyer, and Tony Kallet. The ensuing year was spent:

• ·      Learning more and more about the education process,
• .   Acquiring more strategies for engaging teachers in a workshop environment,
• ·      Working in classrooms with children who had significant social, cultural and learning issues,
• ·      Learning more about the delights of physics, chemistry, biology and mathematics when working alongside eminent scientists and mathematicians who had been with David at Los Alamos during the second world war,
• ·      Developing strong links with many teachers who were keen to discuss, debate and exchange educational experiences, especially on ways to engage and motivate all kinds of learners,
• ·      Setting up and running science workshops at Mountain View, in schools, and in other centers of learning – including Tampas, Boston, Denver, St. Louis, and Colorado Springs,
• ·      Talking with teachers in alternative schools about early childhood education,
• ·      Working with staff of Head Start and Follow-Through projects across America,
• ·      Running workshop sessions at weekends on the Pine Ridge Wounded Knee Reservation with adult Oglala Sioux who were involved with a classroom teacher aid program sponsored by the University of Colorado, Boulder,
• ·      Visiting consultant at EDC, Boston, where I led a series of workshops for EDC staff that focused on their work with teachers who were shifting from formal to informal teaching,
• ·      Visiting consultant for a weeklong program at the University of Florida,
• ·      Visiting speaker/workshop leader in Philadelphia,
• .    Co-authored Yesterday I Found, published by the University of Colorado, 1971

1971 – 1973

On my return to Great Britain, I resumed my duties at the Leicestershire Advisory Center.

Science, now I learned, had certainly taken root in Leicestershire classrooms and I was fortunate in reaping the harvest of my previous work. I linked up again with Leicester Museum and became heavily involved in the Carnegie Project, aimed at developing educational links between schools and the museum. This work brought me in contact with The Nature Conservancy who invited me to talk at two conferences on the theme of children embracing the concept and practice of conservation. 

In the autumn of 1971, I spoke at the International Union for the Conservation of Nature’s world conference in Rotterdam. I described the exciting science and mathematical work going on in Leicestershire classrooms. 

The following weekend, I was invited to lead a team of environmental ‘experts’ on a field trip in a woodland close to the conference center.

1973 – 1976

As my work began to take me away from the classrooms and more into the secondary sector [7]as it contemplated how to support teachers when the school leaving age was increased (from 15 to 16), I decided it was time for me to hang up my travel boots and return full time to the classroom. 

Consequently, I was appointed a teacher of a class of ten and eleven year olds and deputy Headteacher of a newish open plan primary school.

During my time at Warren Hills CP School, my classroom was featured in an educational film, ‘What did you learn in school today?’, and I was featured as a visiting science advisor in another film, Look in on Learning,  made in Mary Brown’s school in Melton Mowbray.

1977 – 1985

I was appointed Headmaster of Robert Bakewell School in 1977, a large open plan school on the outskirts of Loughborough. Set in a newish and growing estate, Robert Bakewell School was then confidentially described to me as a school ‘in crisis.’ Its community, for a variety of reasons, was unhappy with the school’s lack of vision and many families were threatening to take their children to a nearby school.

Demoralised, Robert Bakewell did not enjoy overt positive LEA support.

My work there as Headmaster included,

·      

•      Raising staff morale and staff esteem through negotiating and agreeing clear curriculum policies and classroom practice,
• ·      Developing an effective partnership relationship with parents and governors that brought them into school and into its classrooms,
• ·      Creating a positive image through developing evening classes for the community, and promoting public events that included sport, social events, school science projects, music, drama, through a NEWSLETTER  that was written by me, teachers, children and parents and distributed weekly,
• ·      Raising £57,000 for an extension to house adult community classes. As the school offered child care, parents began to use the building more and more during school time,
• ·      Attracting school TV broadcasting to make several science and mathematics [8] programs in Robert Bakewell’s classrooms [9],
•     I wrote for Schools TV for two years (Science: Start Here!, and All Around You) - many of the programs were made in my school.
• ·      Improving the quality of teaching and learning through staff debate and discussion, workshops, In -Service courses, and a focus on developing each teacher’s particular strengths.

Robert Bakewell’s reputation improved to such an extent that it was described by Stewart Mason, Director of Education, as a ‘good stable’ – Mason speak for a school that developed good teachers worthy of promotion to positions of responsibility in other establishments - and a school that did its utmost to provide a rich, quality learning environment for its pupils.

During my short time at Bakewell, 9 of its teachers became Heads of other schools.

The LEA continued to use me as a consultant/advisor, and, at the Authority’s behest, I set up a primary Teachers in-service Program at the LEAs conference center – and developed some of its outer buildings as a Field Study center for inner city children.

Following the 1981 Education Act which focused on creating a new policy for children with learning difficulties, I formed a working group that led to the LEA adopting an appropriate program for supporting children with learning issues in mainstream schools.

I was seconded for a term, working at Sheffield University as the LEA’s representative, discussing the aims of the new government’s educational ambitions which would, eventually, bring about significant changes in education, including the tightening of teacher contracts.

During my time at Robert Bakewell I had 15 books published, many for Ladybird Press, including:

• Nature Takes Shape
• The story of the spider
• The story of the ant
• Batteries and Bulbs
• Simple Chemistry
• Physics
• Biology
• Air
• Light

1985

In 1985, I was appointed Headmaster of Ibstock Junior School, an establishment built in 1906, and now with 265 junior pupils on roll.

An interesting feature of this school for me was its UNIT for children with moderate to severe learning difficulties.

Other interesting (and challenging) features included its low self-esteem, its run-down curriculum, [10] its disinterested staff, its uninvolved parents [11]and governors.

Through staff, parents and governor debate and negotiation, significant changes in school were introduced to meet the challenges of impending educational policy changes.

I was helped by the 1988 Education Act [12] which,  among other things, described an entitlement curriculum for all pupils in all schools, and urged schools to manage their own financial affairs.

·      School now has a well-deserved positive reputation,

• ·      It is popular with parents and the LEA,
• ·      Its standards are high,
• ·      It is ambitious for its pupils and its teachers,
• ·      It has clear, understandable policies and plans
• ·      Its governors and parents are well informed and are keen to support school, its teachers and its pupils
• .   Its teachers are enthusiastic and well prepared, its pupils work on interesting, age-appropriate learning activities,
• ·      ALL members of staff (teaching and non-teaching) are bright-minded and energetic, and have ownership of and participation in all school policies and management decisions.

A recent inspection by local education officers and advisors highlighted the good practice in place, particularly praising the science teaching and learning, and the school’s program for children experiencing learning challenges. As a result of this report, the Chairman of the school governors and I were asked to address County Councillors about the school’s science teaching – giving us the opportunity to celebrate school’s achievements. 

These achievements, I feel, include:

• ·      A strong, appropriate, changing curriculum for all pupils,
• ·      A highly regarded Annual Review process of school’s (many) statemented children,
• ·      A National Award for Schools’ Annual Governors Report to Parents,
• ·      My membership of the UK Government's Core Curriculum Interim Committee, National Curriculum Council,
• ·      Winning a number of computers for the school library,
• ·      Gaining funding from Toyota for a school yard project,
• .    Creating a staff development and routine staff meeting agenda that meets teacher needs and expectations.

School is now in a strong position to meet the educational and social challenges presented by all its pupils and parents, confident it can deliver an effective and well-resourced curriculum.

In September 1994, I visited a school in New Canaan, Connecticut, USA, for six weeks, to work alongside Dr. Russell Firlik, giving me chance to observe at first hand some of the teaching and learning (and management) processes in place in Dr. Firlik’s school. This project was financed by the Fulbright Teacher Program and I was the first Head Teacher in the UK to receive such an award.
Dr. Firlik came to Ibstock and spent six weeks shadowing me.

John Paull          December 1994

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[1] Leicestershire LEA, one of three areas in England much visited by American educators eager to see at first hand  progressive schools – Oxfordshire and the West Riding of Yorkshire being the other two.

[2] There were 365 Primary Schools in Leicestershire

[3] Following Foxton’s success, two others were opened a couple of years later.

[4] Radio Leicester was the first local radio station set up by the BBC – a station that led the way in developing links for teachers.

[5] Emeritus Professor of Philosophy, first Director of ESS, consultant to the Nuffield Science Project.

[6] New Zealander, author of ‘In the Early World’

[7] As it contemplated how to support teachers when the school leaving age was increased from 15 to 16.

[8] Science: Start Here, and All Around You – both written by me

[9] It was this that particularly impressed the school parents.

[10] A bland diet of textbook and blackboard mathematics and English, with the occasional bit of history and geography, and no science whatsoever.

[11] Parents were not welcome in the building and consequently had little confidence in what went on in the classrooms.

[12] I was invited to work with Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher’s Consultative Committee,  and made regular visits to London


The story of Tiger, the lad who helped me become a teacher..

13- year-old Tiger always sat alone at the back of the science lab. Sometimes he smiled benignly at the thirty-two other boys and girls, six of whom had recently emigrated from India and could speak but two words of English (‘lav, sir?’). Tiger always looking for trouble.

My science lessons on Mosquitos and other insects didn’t interest Tiger. He did not sit politely through each lesson. Sometimes, to prevent himself from falling asleep, he’d run his fingers through his greasy hair, scratch his head, and interfere with anyone sitting close to him working diligently through the science textbook.

Occasionally, Tiger shouted that he was fed up with school and very fed up with boring science.

School didn’t interest him and science didn’t engage him. His Dad told him that he’d have a job with him as a bricklayer on the building sites when he was fifteen, so why should he ‘do his best’ in school? What was the point of it all? Nothing I did in my science lessons made any connection to Tiger’s life experience or appealed to his sense of curiosity. The science I read from the textbook was irrelevant to his world – especially the way I presented it

My science lessons didn’t involve my non-English speaking Indian pupils either. They did, though, sit politely through each lesson. They spent their time scribbling and drawing in their science writing books, often whispering to each other. They always looked poorly dressed, out-of-sorts, tired and hungry.  I wondered what was going through their heads.

In the first week of October, my luck changed. The miracle of miracles happened - a big change for the better came over my teaching. Tiger, of all people, and a small garden spider, were my divine inspirations.

Walking back from shopping for the weekend food, I spotted the most beautiful orb-web spider sitting in her intricate silky web in the black currant bush outside the steps leading to my flat. Surprised to see one so late in the year, I fetched a jar, popped her inside, and took her upstairs.

She reminded me of when my dad and I had found some garden spiders in the back of our house on Gwavas Estate. I kept them safe in a jar tucked under the bed – quickly learning that you don’t keep spiders together as they eat each other. Looking after the survivor was really fascinating. Keeping her safe and well fed with flies and moths made me feel good, especially when she deposited an egg sac on her silky web.

I took the spider to school the following Monday, put her in a large bell jar with a little soil, greenery and a branch, and set the new home on a small table at the back of the science laboratory.

I never showed the spider to any of my science classes. After all, why should I? We were studying the quirks of the 6-legged mosquito from the textbook, not an 8-legged garden spider. Well, to be precise, we were reading about the mosquito that spread malaria in some far-off country, and, then perfecting our handwriting and spelling skills.

The following day, I noticed a silk egg sac was dangling from near the center of the spider’s orb web. Sensing the spider was hungry, I found a small silverfish darting around the base of my desk, unscrewed the top of the spider home, and put the small creature on the web. Immediately, the spider came running towards her prey. I sat and watched, fascinated by the process, until Tiger’s class came through the door, breaking the atmosphere by noisily throwing their satchels under their stools.

They were ready for yet another particularly dull science lesson (all chalk and talk, then reading and writing, and no ‘hands-on’ science investigation). They looked bored before I even started. I got up quickly, pushing the spider home to one side.

Then Tiger came through the door, late. He looked upset. When I asked him where he’d been, he stared at the floor and mumbled he’d been sent to Mr. Thomas’ office because:

“I was caught looking through a dirty book, sir. ‘fore school started.”

“Who caught you?’ I asked. I wanted to know more about what had happened. His tone changed, and he looked across the room at me, and shouted loudly:

“Mr. Jelbert, you know, Mr. Paull, he looks at us lads through his telescope from the class upstairs. He saw me. Looking at pictures. You know. Dirty pictures. Weren’t my book, though, Mr. Paull. It’s Fatty White’s. Now Mr. Thomas has it. Fatty’ll murder me. I’ve got to go back to the boss’s office after school. And I’ll get caned. I’ll get six, I know I will.”

I calmed him down as best I could. Tiger turned and went to his usual spot at the back of the classroom. He looked sulky and angry.

As I was writing on the blackboard, asking the children to open up their journals and copy my notes, there was a loud shout of “CHRIST!” from the back of the room. Startled, I looked up. Everyone in class turned their heads to see what was going on. Tiger was standing up and pointing his index finger and thumb at the bell jar. His eyes now were wide open.

‘F*#   ‘ell! Look!’ “Mr. Paull, Mr.Paull, there’s a spider ‘ere! It’s killing a creepy-crawly! It’s f*^** killing it! Look!!!”

 I raised my hand. ”Tiger, watch your language!”

” Mr. Paull, Mr. Paull, I can’t f*ing believe it. Look at THAT! The spider, f*+** great!!”

I told him to sit down, leave the spider alone, and get out his science journal. I turned to the class, some standing near their seats, wanting to know what was going on.

“Wassup wiv Tiger, Mr.Paull?” asked Michael. “’e sick or summat?”

 I tried to settle everyone down. “C’mon. Everybody! Never mind Tiger. He’s just having a moment.

 “Get on with your writing.

C’mon everybody, no big deal.”

The spider eating her lunch, of course, was, for Tiger, far more interesting than my science-reading lesson. Tiger swearing loudly was much more captivating than my science-reading lesson for the class. I gave in.

 “Go on, then, everyone, take a look. Go and see what’s in the jar – then get back to your seats.”

The class didn’t need telling twice. Everyone rushed to join Tiger at the back of the room, seeing and then chattering excitedly about the spider – excited chatter was something I had never heard in one of my science lessons.

“Ain’t never seen a spider like that! What is it? Wos it doin’?” asked one pupil.

One of the girls, Diane, said the spider was so beautiful.

“Can I look at it, sir? Please? Can I get a maggy glass from the drawer?” she asked.

I thought for a moment. Why not? Diane fetched a magnifying glass and peered through it.

“It’s great, Can I draw it, sir? Please?”

“Of course. Use your pencil, not your pen.

 Oh, don’t, though, draw it in your science book.

 That’s for science. Here, there’s a piece of scrap-paper on my desk you can use!”

Dianne looked at me, and asked, drily, “Aren’t spiders science, Mr. Paull?”

“’Course, Dianne. Sorry. Do it, drawing, oh, go on, put it in your science journal.”

The idea caught on and a few more girls also wanted to draw the spider, sitting in her web, clasping the poor silverfish.

Tiger did not draw the spider in his journal. He sat very still, ignoring me and everyone else, watching the jar, mesmerized.

Not all the pupils liked the spider. One or two said they killed spiders when they saw them at home, reminding me of the conflicting long-ago conversations about small creatures in Mr. Jones’s class. Children, I remembered, generally liked and protected what they liked and ignored or killed what they didn’t like.

We spent the rest of the lesson drawing and talking about spiders.

Tiger stayed behind after class, and, with a warm grin and an impish twinkle in his eye, asked me where I’d found the spider. When I told him, he said,

“The spider’s great, sir, ain’t it great? You like ‘em? Spiders? They’re brill!”

He looked up at me.

“Sorry I swore, sir, sorry. Won’t do it again. ‘Onest!

Can’t draw, you know. Scabby drawer.”

“Well,” I said, “I think you can draw, but your pictures are rude, you know.”

Tiger smiled and then said he was going to get some spiders of his own as soon as he got home.

“Good, but now get off to your next class. Don’t be late,” I said.

“Oh, and don’t forget to see Mr. Thomas………….and be sure to give the book back to your friend.”

The next day, there was Tiger waiting for me, before school started, with that impish smile on his face.

“Found ‘em, Mr. Paull, found ‘em.” Tiger had a jar in his satchel. “There were stacks of ‘em. Tiny ‘uns. Babs, I think, ain’t they? I got free or four. Can I keep them in the lab, Mr. Paull?

Go on! Can I? Next to yours?”

Then, he added: “Found out about ‘em, too, Mr. Paull. My dad knows what they are – they’re Garden Spiders, and they eat flies and stuff!”

“You know what? You’re ok, Mr. Paull! Sorry, sorry, I swore.”

 “Thank you, Tiger, thank you. I appreciate that.” I said. “I’m sorry you swore, too.”

I gave him four jars, telling him that spiders can’t live together without paralyzing and eating each other. “Make a home for each one, ok?” “Quick, school’s starting soon.” OH, and you can tell your class what you know about spiders, ok?”

When his class came for science, Tiger stood sheepishly at the front of the room, by the blackboard, and told a very respectful, quiet, surprised, and very attentive audience what he had learned about spiders. I was fascinated to see how Tiger caught everyone’s attention with his excited, twitchy, body movements. Tiger had at last discovered something in my science period that made him feel that wonderful, inside –your-head glow when the brain is alive and alert. His class mates felt it, too.

“Spiders, “ he said, “ are dead good. Look at this one. It’s a beaut.”

He held up one of the jars.

 “Guess what I found out………….spiders suck their food after they’ve crushed and made it watery…….ain’t only the gals that make silk……..the fella spiders make silk, too, but only when they’re young………..then they stop and go looking for a spider girl-friend. They mate on the web………….sometimes the gals kill and eat the fellas.

They don’t spin silk, you know……………….some spiders chase after stuff they want to eat.”

I was taken aback by how much he knew, thinking:

“Where did he learn that from, then? All from his dad?”

“ It weren’t from me in science lessons.”

He’d really done his homework. This was Tiger’s amber moment. As I listened and watched Tiger’s nervous twitches as he spoke to his class mates he reminded me of the sharing time on Wednesday afternoons with Mr. Jones. It also reminded me of Mr. Kitson’s advice at college, “When you’re teaching, always plan for the unexpected.”

Tiger told his audience that, if anyone wanted to watch, he was going to release the spiders and

their eggs in the school garden at lunchtime. “They’re goin’ to die soon, y’know, and the eggs will ‘atch, next year, spring, right, Mr. Paull?” "S'right, Tiger." I answered.

When he’d finished, everyone clapped. “Any questions for Tiger?” I asked. The hands went up, and Tiger was asked a million questions about spiders, some of which he could answer.

Almost everyone turned up at lunchtime to see Tiger release the spiders.

That night I checked my spider’s identity in a spider book, learning that it was Meta segmentata, a common garden species related to the garden spider. Its courtship routine was different, though. The male, I read, drives off other male suitors, but doesn’t advance towards the female until an insect is caught on the female’s web. Both spiders then move towards the struggling insect. The male’s front legs are larger than the female and he uses them to push the female away from the insect.

He then gift-wraps the prey. As the female tucks into her dinner, the male wraps silk around her legs and then mates with her.

The following day, I went to school early in the morning, an hour or so before the official start of the day, and went to the science storeroom. I gathered a box full of microscopes, racks of test tubes,  flasks, and other scientific equipment.  I set them out in the science lab. And rearranged the stools.

When Tiger’s class came through the door, the boys and girls noticed what I had done and looked at my displays of science equipment.

“Hey,” said one, “look….look at all this science stuff……..and hey, look, we ain’t sitting alone. He’s put us in groups. Mornin’, sir, this stuff looks great. Can we touch it?”

Tiger showed me a picture he’d drawn at home of the beautiful orb-web spider. “Hey, you did it. You drew your spider. You can draw, see?” I said. 

“Can I glue it on the cover of my science journal, Mr. Paull?”

 “OK,” I said, “ but first let me rip out those inappropriate doodles, ok?”

Seeing Tiger operating like a young scientist, was a first-time experience in my classroom. I had learned, by sheer luck, what motivated and engaged my most challenging pupil: observing and studying a small spider.

I started off by sharing the spider snippet with everyone. They were enthralled.

I was very struck with the ensuing class conversations and how the class listened when Tiger had something to say. When talking and learning about the spider, the pupils were very animated, commenting and asking good questions.

When I told the class it was time to open their books and begin the science lesson, the atmosphere changed. When I opened the science textbook and read aloud everything one needed to know about insects, they were quiet and withdrawn, and didn’t ask me a single question. There was a disconnect between the two. Without the class’s engagement, my science lesson went nowhere beyond formal handwriting exercises, similar to the ones I experienced as a pupil when in Mr. Miller’s and Mr. Hitchens’ classrooms. With the class’s engagement, I could, in part, reproduce something of what happened on those far-off Wednesdays in Mr. Jones’s classroom.

It was, in fact, an incredible teachable moment. It was THE first ‘Come on, John Paull, be a REAL teacher. Be professional. Earn your pension.’ wake-up call.

“Tomorrow, “ I said, at the end of the lesson,  “we’ll do that again, ok? See if you have anything that links to our lesson topic. You don’t have to stand at the front and share. You can share your artifacts with me privately, if that’s what you’d rather do.”

“Great,” said Diane, “Like bein’ a proper scientist. S’dead good!”

I wrote the word, artifacts, on the board, explaining what the word meant.

I wondered if I should show them my amber and a wishing rock, but, no, I couldn’t connect it to the lesson ahead.