Coromandel’s Collaborative Magazine

Category: Whitianga

The changing art of education – Part 3

It never ceases to amaze me how young minds soak up knowledge naturally through play and interaction. A child can learn several languages at the same time and not confuse them when speaking. But suddenly, at age five or six, they are required to slot into an education system and change the way they learn, often being forced into learning styles that don’t suit their abilities. Of course, with classes of 25 or more, teachers are restricted in how they teach.

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The changing art of education – Part 2

Despite having a myriad mixed feelings about education, I eventually became a high school teacher of accounting, economics, and any other subject they didn’t have a teacher for. I remember spending nights at my maths teacher colleague Bill’s house learning the year 11 maths for the next day’s lesson and going to class hoping like hell the bright students wouldn’t ask me questions I couldn’t answer. Parent teacher nights were interesting, with some parents blaming me for their little Johnny’s bad exam results. In very polite language I would tell them that their little darling was in fact a lazy little sod, or words to that effect. One frustrated father, who was a friend of the principal, threatened to try to get me fired over his son’s poor exam results.

Read More »

The changing art of education – Part 3

It never ceases to amaze me how young minds soak up knowledge naturally through play and interaction. A child can learn several languages at the same time and not confuse them when speaking. But suddenly, at age five or six, they are required to slot into an education system and change the way they learn, often being forced into learning styles that don’t suit their abilities. Of course, with classes of 25 or more, teachers are restricted in how they teach.

Read More »

The changing art of education – Part 2

Despite having a myriad mixed feelings about education, I eventually became a high school teacher of accounting, economics, and any other subject they didn’t have a teacher for. I remember spending nights at my maths teacher colleague Bill’s house learning the year 11 maths for the next day’s lesson and going to class hoping like hell the bright students wouldn’t ask me questions I couldn’t answer. Parent teacher nights were interesting, with some parents blaming me for their little Johnny’s bad exam results. In very polite language I would tell them that their little darling was in fact a lazy little sod, or words to that effect. One frustrated father, who was a friend of the principal, threatened to try to get me fired over his son’s poor exam results.

Read More »

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