An Account of the Transfer of Misinformation to Britain's Youth

I'm supply (substitute) teaching while here in the UK. It's just easier than trying to find a full-time teaching job. And it's generally a lot less stressful. My Monday-Friday work-time hours consist of bouncing from school to school teaching kids of all ages the wonderfully varied British curriculum. The benefit of this is I get to meet a lot of cute kiddos and see lots of different schools, teaching styles, and management systems. Funnily enough, this also means I get to witness a somewhat sad amount of misinformation transfer. This post is dedicated to listing these sad, but strangely comical instances.

• Let me preface this by saying that I used to consider this at the top of my mental list of misinformed teachers transferring incorrect information. But, recently it's difficult to say exactly which instance is the most deserving of the top spot, so I'm putting it in bullet points rather than a numerical list. Anyway, back in February I was at an ARK Academy in North West London for several weeks teaching a lovely group of Year 4s. (It should be noted that ARK is a company that takes over failing schools in disadvantaged areas of London.) Every Friday at this school (of which I was present for 3) one class would present an assembly of "What We've Been Learning." On the last Friday Year 6 students told the entire student body, faculty, and parents all they knew about the USofA, which included a comprehensive listing of all 52 states. That's right, I said 52 states. I've come to realise that this is a common European misconception. Still, I thought this was mostly the thoughts of some confused adults who were trying to sound intelligent. I swear I've had conversations with Europeans about the US and somehow gotten to number of them. Maybe it went something like this: Me, "Oh yeah. America is great. All 50 states." Snobby European, "Don't you mean 52 states?" (condescending emphasis on the 52) Me, "Um...no." So anyway, after a terribly inaccurate presentation about "Native Americans" (chalk full of stereo types, as illustrated by the wearing of feathery headdresses by all Year 6 students), the kiddos sang a song about the states and their capitols. This song was projected on a large screen behind the Year 6ers, but strangely only mentioned 50 States and 50 state capitals. After the song ended, we all applauded and the HEADTEACHER (aka the Principal) remarked that the song must be slightly outdated, as it failed to mention the 51st and 52nd states. The teacher smoothly replied that they were unable to find a song that included all 52 states. The icing on the top of the cake: the Headteacher picked a student from the Year 6 class to tell us their "favourite" state, to which the girl smiled and said, "Mexico!" *Insert face-palm here* It seems fair to mention that now projected on the screen behind the Year 6ers is a large map of the continental US, appropriately absent of Mexico. Rather than steering the conversation away from this poor girl who (hopefully) had been asleep during her History lessons that week, the Headteacher said, "Oh yes, that's a lovely state. What's the weather like there?" And the girl confidently said, "It's mostly cold and sometimes snowy. You know, like Canada." Perhaps Mexico and Canada are the infamous 51st and 52nd states? Here's that outdated song.

• Now for some science misinformation. Today I went to North East London to teach a really nice bunch of Year 3s. Midway through the morning, the two Year 3 classes combined to review for tomorrow's science test with a pre-test in the form of a PowerPoint. The lesson was conducted in a think-pair-share kind of way, and all was going smoothly until the question about astronomy came up. "How long does it take the earth to make one revolution around the sun? A. 24 hours B. 28 days C. 12 months." So the other Year 3 teacher, who was running the lesson, read the question through once more, emphasising the "around the sun ONE TIME" part, and then asked the kiddos to discuss with their partners, then vote for their answer by raising hands. I didn't count, but I'd confidently say that about 85% of the kids raised their hand to vote for A. 24 hours. No one voted for B, and only about 8 kids voted for C. 12 months. The teacher seemed disappointed, and I have to admit that I was too. She read the question again. Then she told them to think about how the sun rises in the morning and sets at night before rising again the next day. Now alarm bells started going off in my head. Red flags were shooting up. Basically, I was failing to see the connection she was trying to make between the sun rising and setting and Earth revolving around the sun. In the back of my mind, I was preparing for an epic *face-palm*. She read the question aloud for the fourth time and after a drum roll, confidently proclaimed that the answer was indeed A. 24 hours! The kids cheered. Well, most of the kids cheered. Those who had voted for 12 months looked at one another and seemed confused, but didn't say anything. The last time I corrected a teacher in front of her students I got my ass chewed, so I hesitated and felt very uncomfortable. I looked anxiously to the TWO other teaching assistants in the room, thinking surely they would highlight the teacher's error, but no. A group of kids sitting near one of the assistants must have said something like "really?" because I overheard the assistant reassuring them that their teacher was indeed correct. *Heavy sigh*

• Later in the aforementioned science test review PowerPoint, the question of irreversible changes of state came up. "Which of these is an irreversible change of state? A. melting a candle, B. burning a candle, C. melting ice cream." If you're clever you might see what's coming up. Before letting the kids discuss, she defined "irreversible change of state" by saying it's NOT like making water into ice, then melting the ice back into water. It was definitely the opposite of that. Ok, we were off to a good start. While the kids were think-pair-sharing, the teacher looked to me and mouthed "what is it?" and I replied by dramatically mouthing "B." Her brow furrowed. "Not ice cream?" she mouthed. I shook my head. At this point, it took a lot of strength to keep my palm off of my forehead. Kids voted, results were mixed and confidence was low. Teacher this time admitted to not being sure, but she said she was pretty sure it was "the ice cream one" and said that they'd save this question for after next week's lesson when they learned about it. Kids cheered. I sat silently shaking my head at the back of the room. Then, I remembered that we did indeed harvest ice cream from the arctic poles, and therefore she was probably right. Lord knows we've all experienced the disappointment of irreversibly melted ice cream.