Rotorua’s Fenton Air Base, WWII

Not an education related post, but a vehicle for me to share photographs to a forum which only allows pics from a URL.
Relates to a project I initiated to have airmen who trained at the above air base, then received awards for their work in WWII and were allotted a street name.

Airmen Chorus Boxes article 2015-09-12_1

Airmen Chorus Boxes article 2015-09-12_2.jpg

Airmen's Street Map.jpg


Make Mine a Time Machine!

 Oh, yessss…at last, knowing what I do now, I can get back to my   secondary school where two too many of the teaching nuns were — as we would have put it back then — totally bloody useless!
I’d not only take back with me knowledge enough to give the then younger me the confidence to take a complaint to Mother Superior, or to the parish council about the deficiencies of M’r C. and the younger M’r. C., but the basis for the charges — incompetency, memory deficiency, inability to present lessons to any plan, failing to cover the Biology curriculum, and mental instability.
If New Zealand’s Education Review Office would let a school review team travel back with me, they’d be able to find how sub-optimal was that college (Years 6 to 12, known as Secondary level in NZ) and give them one of the proverbial kicks up the back-side!

(You’ll learn more about the disastrous “education” {coughing fit} I experienced when my teaching & education book is released…)

Time And Relative Dimension In Space


 [Apologies–WordPress Post editor misbehaving for me today. Hence pic down here instead of at top of post.]

Response to Daily Prompt: Pick Your Gadget

Your local electronics store has just started selling time machines, anywhere doors, and invisibility helmets. You can only afford one. Which of these do you buy, and why?

Changes are afoot

This blog is soon to be refocused.

Along with my norm of posting trivia, opinion pieces, stories etc, I will be focussing on a particular topic, one I know best – education. More specifically, teaching: memoirs, methodologies, well-remembered pupils and peers in teaching.

I am preparing a book on Schooling in New Zealand between 1956 (when I began in Primer One) and 2007 (when I ceased tertiary lecturing).

The title is not set yet, but I will announce it later on. In the meantime, I have been seeking copies of old NZ teaching Syllabus documents and current ones, and the Education Review Office’s (ERO – an acronym which in its early days struck fear in many communities and schools) reports of the school at which I was Principal, and the last compulsory level school I taught at before moving into tertiary level lecturing.

The book will meld anecdotes with opinion pieces, and include excerpts from Syllabus/Curriculum documents in effect at the time of the anecdote.

I have tried novelling – via NaNoWriMo – but have never been confident or enthusiastic to bother completing any. So – “NaNoNo’Mo'” – I am following the old advice: “Write about what you know”. And boy, do I know teaching! It has been my most satisfying job through my working life, and I would return to lecturing in a shot if I could.

So please, wish me well in this new challenge.

If you are a student of education preparing for a career as teacher, this will interest you.

If you are a parent and wanting to help your own child/ren via home schooling (I’ve BTDT) or as they pass through their years at school, this will interest you.

Thank you



They Can Be taught – If… Part Two of a response to Daily Prompt

This post is a two-parter, sorry, as the daily prompt We Can Be Taught…
In part one I explained New Zealand’s education changes

They Can Be Taught – If … If What?

Since those changes I described happened, I have watched teaching decline in my posts at three of the last four schools at which I taught until I cried to my own needs “Enough with this s**t! Get out now before the stress kills you.”

I’d begun my teaching career in the days of the annual standardised Progressive Achievement Tests, held in the fifth week of every new school year in February (so, testing took place in about the first week of March most years. The four untested weeks were an opportunity for pupils to regather what they could retain from previous years after a six to eight week summer and Christmas break.

In Year Three/Standard Two pupils were tested in Listening Comprehension. This gave teachers an indication of what the child might be able to achieve (given good teaching). The next test the child would be introduced to was Reading Vocabulary, in the following year (Year Four/Standard Two).
A high listening comprehension score with a low vocabulary score told the teacher “this one can be taught to read, given work on building the number of words he/she can read (recognise – no “sounding out” or phonics here, thank you very much). A low listening score with a high reading vocab hinted to the teacher the child’s hearing might have needed testing.

The next English-based PATest was Reading Comprehension, in Year Five/Standard Three.

A teacher who was carrying out the PAT methodology correctly should have been using the provided rubrics to turn Class Percentiles and Age Percentiles to Levels. Sadly, many teachers only looked at the percentile scores, and thus were ever ignorant of exactly where their pupils were along the path of progress.  Level One was “matched” to Standard One, and as such up to Level Six matching Standard Six (Form Two/Year Eight). The PATests continued to Year Ten/Form Four. All PATests were multi-choice – one right answer, three misleaders, tick the box.

Mathematics PATests came at Year Six (Standard Four) and were not matched to a class level. But with a deal of time and effort, the teacher who cared would be able to analyse the child’s answers, and discover at what level of understanding the pupil was learning: in order – Recall, Application, Understanding, and Problem Solving.

In Year Seven /Form One pupils were introduced to the Social Studies PATest. Teachers who cared enough could analyse the child’s answers and discover which social science was the child’s forté or which was their downfall. However, none of the Secondary school teachers with whom I worked bothered looking at anything except the Age Percentile and the Class Percentiles. None of them even knew about the conversion to Levels of the English-based tests, and didn’t want to learn or know.

Throughout my career, at all levels, lazy or carefree or ignorant teachers ignored the English levels, the Mathematics skills, the Social Studies sciences skills. I would each year spend hours each evening analysing and converting percentiles to levels to discover what each pupil needed to be taught.

I began visiting the classes of my previous year’s pupils after marking was done, and check on their Levels, Skills and Soc Sci Skills. My major focus was on their Level in the English tests, and the understanding breakdown in Mathematics. All the teachers I would call on could show me only the English tests’ Levels (a compulsory value for records). None would have analysed the Math or Social Studies results.

Could those pupils be taught? Not if they were in those classes.

But I know for a fact that pupils taught in my classes would in a year advance more than the one expected level. Lagging readers would always advance to at least the level expected for the Year they were finishing. How did I do it?

By firstly learning for myself about the pupils’ abilities and needs, by ignoring the record cards passed up from their previous year’s teachers, and by focussing my lesson plans and activities to work with each pupils’ needs and interests, and sheer hard work and dedication.

Was it easy? Yes, at first. Then came the changes I described in Part One, and interference in my class programme.

I used to be able to, for example, in a class History unit covering How People Cope With Disaster by studying the Ballantyne’s Store Fire, allow a child to discover the same understanding by instead following his interest in ships by studying the wreck of the Wahine, and all on a decision made in the instant.

After the changes I had to create individual learning plans for each pupil, defining for each topic of study exactly how my programme would meet the individual learning goals of each pupil.

Now, if I wanted to modify the topic to suit the one kid who was fascinated only by, say, big earth-movers and savage wild cats, I would have to submit a request for permission to deviate from the class plan – three copies, in advance time enough for the Chairman of the BOT and my Senior Teacher and the Principal to consider, seek parental approval, and allow or not.

By the time this process was complete, our class programme would have in most cases moved on to the next pre-scheduled topic, and the individual pupil had given up and lost interest – again.

As a Principal Teacher of a small country school, in my first three months there it received its first ever review visit from the Education Review Office. The team overlooked my planning, my records, my management strategies and policies, and gave them all the big “thumbs up”, and the advice to not get caught in the trap of over-assessing pupils.

After an illness which caused the little red-neck community to be swayed by one parent that I was not fit to be in their classroom, they constructed a dismissal. I then moved on to teach as HOD of the Intermediate department of a private girls’ boarding school of christian character. That’s when the creeping ooze of unreal demands on my time began.

So stressful was that school, so poisonous was the staffroom (‘You’re only a Primary Teacher.”) that my body responded by drawing on body mass to keep me going. I would begin each  school year at 50 kg – but finish it at 40kg.  I was always tired, but I continued to ensure that each pupil I taught – even the senior students – got my very best in terms of meeting their needs and following their interests. I continued to recalculate Percentiles to Levels, to analyse test papers to learn each pupil’s skills (the only teacher doing it).

So – They Can Be Taught – If they have a teacher who treats each learner as a unique individual with specific levels of English ability, specific needs and abilities in Mathematics and core curriculum areas.  If they have a teacher who is observant – who can read a pupil’s expression, recognise bewilderment and instantly give a different style of explanation. If their teacher can socialise with the pupils in out-of-class time, chatting about the lessons. If the teacher can teach the pupil How To Learn for themselves, How To Study by themselves. If the teacher makes “homework” (not compulsory in New Zealand) relevant to the topic of study and not a meaningless work-sheet of meaningless busy work.

(And that’s a topic of itself, is study.)

They Can Be Taught … If – Part One of a response to daily prompt

This post is a two-parter, sorry, as the daily prompt We Can Be Taught…
fired up my boiler about the diminishing standards of teaching in New Zealand.

They Can be Taught! Part One –
– the Background of New Zealand “Education”

Bear in mind, this from my experiences teaching and lecturing in New Zealand, which has seen changes in the education system since I began school in 1956. Yes, I’m an “oldie”, but after thirty-odd years (also could be read as thirty odd years) of teaching, working with near-on fifteen hundred pupils and students and some remedial clients, on this topic – I’m an “oldie-but-a-goodie”.

Before I get started on children being taught, I’ll let you see the changes our wonderful government department has foisted on schools and teachers over the years – did you spot a sarcasm in there? Good, you’re intelligent too.

Government funded education is provided to learners from age five up to about age seventeen, when they finish the last year of secondary school. Compulsory education, however,  runs from age six to age fifteen. Most mothers push their babies off to school at five – as quick as they can – whether they’ve been prepared by a pre-school facility or not.

Children are in NZ enrolled on or soon after their fifth birthday, which means there is a constant arrival on a single New Entrant for the Junior teacher to initiate to the classroom running.
In some countries, children are enrolled in one or two specific “intakes”, giving the new entrant teacher a whole class of terrified babies to adjust to school protocols etc. I feel we have it right, here.

Principal teachers who turn away a five-year-old who is obviously unable to cope are rare – a near extinct species. In all the Primary schools I taught at, I only met one – the child in this case had not been toilet trained, had never before been separated from his mother, and knew only about eight words – his name, “I want” with pointing, “No”, “Cuddle?”,“Gimme!”, “Hate you!” with hitting. My Principal told Mum directly to withdraw her son until he was school-ready or aged six. Brave man, that.  Whether the mother or a preschool prepared him for school wasn’t the school’s say. At six, there’d be no turning a child away, no matter how poorly prepared for school life he/she may be.

In the ‘50s and up to the ‘80s, classes were as follows:

Junior Primary, comprising Primers One to Four, each of a half year, for children aged five and six. Sometimes Primer One would be extended for a pupil, to have Primer Four completed conveniently at the end of our school year, in December.
Middle Primary, comprising Standard One to Standars Six, for children aged about seven to twelve.
In about the late ‘60s or early ‘70s, Standards Five and Six were separated away into the new Intermediate level, and renamed as Form One and Form Two, for children aged eleven and twelve.

Secondary Schooling begins at Form Three (it’s puzzling how it was always Form Three even back in the day before Standards 5 & 6 were renamed Forms 1 & 2), at about age thirteen, and continues to the end of Form Five for Compulsory Education (at age fifteen) then onwards to Form Seven (about age seventeen).

In the mid-80s, classes were all renamed  as Years. Year One at age five, Year Thirteen at age seventeen. Most Years 7 & 8 pupils attended separate Intermediate schools, as before. Those of this stage who lived ‘way out in the country would have been the Senior Primary pupils at a country Full Primary school, or been bussed into town to either an Intermediate, or to be enrolled as Junior School pupils at a Secondary School. Which, by the way, and for the sake of readers in the US, we call Colleges.

At the same time, the department of Education became a Ministry of Education, which removed the schools’ teaching Syllabus – a prescriptive document for each subject, prescribing exactly what a pupil had to be able to accomplish if they were to be adjudged as having reached the Standard of their class.

The new, replacement,  teaching documents became descriptive Curriculum Statements. One for each subject, but now describing the sort/s of activities which a teacher could provide pupils with as learning experiences. Two class levels made up one Curriculum Level at Primary and Intermediate classes, and at no point was there any guide of what we as teachers were to set as the pupil’s achievement aims.

As an example:
In the now defunct Syllabus, the wording in the Standard Four Arithmetic syllabus (age ten) was something like…
“The child will have reached this Standard when he/she can perform a division of a six-digit number by a three-digit number, using this form and method:

 The Curriculum Statement for Mathematics puts it something like this…
“The pupil will have experienced practical activities relating to demonstrating the properties of division.”
And suggests such activities as…
“Given a set of small objects, the child will be asked to form them into groups, of the same count in each group, and tell how many groups of that count there are.”
And that is for Curriculum Level Three – Years 6 & 7 (ages ten and eleven)!

The new Ministry let go control of schools by creating each school as a self governing body, which would be Managed by the Principal teacher and Governed by an elected Board of Trustees. The B O T would comprise representatives of the local (parent) community, and one teacher representative and the Principal.

The Min of Ed also created an Educational Review Office to periodically inspect schools and ensure compliance with their rules and guidelines. Or to act in an advisory capacity to schools whose communities were beyond their depth in the role of school trustees, and to (sometimes) offer support to teaching staff whose communities tried to impose personal agenda on the running of a particular classroom (often that in which the trustee’s own child was enrolled).

And it All went Downhill from there…

The Evolution of Te Māori

The Maori language was always oral, and has a simpler alphabet than other languages. When explorers, missionaries and pioneer settlers wrote down Maori words, they had to invent the spelling, especially with vowels.

The  only consonants are: h, k, m, n, p, r, t, w, ng (pronounced as in ‘wrong, and wh (pronounced as in ‘where’ but for some iwi as ‘f’)

Vowels are as English, but different sounds; a (ah), e (air), i (ee), o (awe), and u (oo as in loop) and can be long or short.
Long vowels should have a macron above them, as: ā, ē,  ī,  ō, ū
[Confession – i’ve been lazy about inserting macrons following this point.]

The language was often regarded as being lyrical, poetic or metaphorical. But it was limited in vocabulary, having few words to describe abstract concepts; so Maori discussion of such phrases as were used in (e.g.) the Treaty of Waitangi would, when translated into Maori and then translated back from Maori to English, often change in emphasis. This is why Te Tiriti
(a transliteration from English) can give rise to misinterpretation about its intent.

Some words in te Reo have multiple meanings; for example “taua” can mean army, war-party, grandmother, old woman, or ‘that mentioned before’. In translating te Reo Māori into English one needs more than a single word Māori to English dictionary – one needs a grasp of the context and concepts being discussed.

I have not (yet) found the single Māori word for “colour” as an abstract concept. English has  names for so many colours, from basic hues through tints and shades. (e.g.) the word “yellow”- it’s a colour, we recognise it in all its shades and tints,  and we can understand that and modify it to specifically describe. In te Reo the word for yellow is “kowhai” – which is also a tree. So when something is described as kowhai, it is really saying that it is “the colour of the kowhai tree blossoms”. Blue is ‘the blue of the sky’ – “Kahurangi”. Green is “kakariki” – the colour of the parrot. Orange as a colour has a word in Te Reo – “karaka”, but as a fruit it is named ‘arani’ and orange juice is ‘waiarani’ –water/liquid from the ‘arani’

As their way of life – Tikanga – was relatively simple, based on only the natural resources of the islands, forests, their cultivation plots, and the rivers and oceans – the influences of new materials and equipment, and abstract concepts brought to NZ by settlers created the need for specific words for the objects, and the solution was to transliterate, as with ‘arani’ above.

Some examples: motor car became motoka, treaty became tiriti, boot became putu, ice cream became ‘aihi kirimi’, football became ‘whutupaoro’ or’ hutuporo’ (even though there is the word “waewae” meaning foot).

In those early days of colonisation, those writing down Māori speech may not have been terribly literate themselves, or may not have really cared much about the accuracy of what they wrote.

It is only recently that Māori people were able to approach government to have the city Wanganui renamed (correctly) as “Whanganui”. Many people have grumped about the fuss, but local iwi have a point – “nui” means big, “whanga” means bay, but there is no Maori word wanga at all. Wanganui meant nothing. “Whanganui” means big bay or big harbour. I’m glad the city’s name has been allowed to revert to something meaningful!

More recently, transliterations have been wherever possible replaced by composite māori words which convey a real meaning in te Reo. So an aeroplane is a “wakarererangi “– ‘a canoe that flies in the sky’.

I wrote this from  a spark of an idea in a post by another multiply member, by multiply member “remixed phoenix”, Ever_Wondered_How_a_Language_Inherits_New_Words

 I’m not a scholar of te Reo, being fully “pakeha” (not Māori, or white insect), but am simply offering some ideas for those interested.

Greetings and Phrases  in te Reo…

Hello –    “Tena koe” (hello to you (one)

                “Tena korua” (hello, you two)

                “Tena koutou” (hullo, you all/three or more)

                “Kia ora” (casual, informal, friendly)

Thank you – “Kia ora”

Sit            –               “noho”

Sit down –              “E noho”

Sit down please  –  “E noho koa”

Come here , welcome – “Haere”, “Haere mai”

Go away –               “Haere atu”

Go there –              “Haere ra”

Listen, listen to me – “Whakarongo, Whakarongo mai”

Look, look at  me –               “Titiro”, Titiro mai”

Talk, talk to me-    “Korero”, “Korero mai”

Good bye –            “Haere atu” (to those leaving)

                                “E noho ra!” (to those you are leaving)