Ah yes, the dreaded 'formal observation' - that sacred tradition whereby one is judged not by their knowledge, classroom presence, or capacity to inspire... but by whether they remembered to write the lesson objective on the whiteboard in a legible font.

Having endured more than my fair share of clipboard-wielding middle managers with iPads and anxiety disorders, I feel uniquely qualified to offer guidance on how to behave when stepping into my classroom - or anyone else’s - with the intention of “providing feedback”

The nosey note-taker

There’s nothing more off-putting than someone scribbling furiously every time you breathe. One begins to wonder if you’re being observed or sketched for a courtroom drama. Here's a tip - If your note-taking makes my Year 10s nervous, you’re doing it wrong. I once had an observer write “teacher used sarcasm again” in their notes. Yes, Janet. It’s called having a personality.

The creepy lurker

Please, for the love of Shakespeare, do not hover silently at the back like the ghost of Pedagogy Past. At least pretend to look interested. Smile. Nod. Don’t just stand there with your arms crossed like you’re evaluating a war crime tribunal. This is Macbeth, not The Hague. Bonus points if you manage to look like you understood the metaphor about blood and guilt.

Checking your phone mid-lesson

I once had a Head of Department take a call during my Year 11 poetry analysis. "Sorry, it's my gardener" was her excuse. I nearly hurled my reusable coffee flask at her, and I don't waste good oat milk lightly. Unless your child is performing surgery on a bear with a chainsaw, put the phone away. I’m the drama, sweetie. Watch me.

Bringing your own beverage

Listen carefully: I have nothing against hydration. But walking into my room with a triple mango protein smoothie while I’m quoting Yeats is deeply uncivilised. If you must sip, bring something dignified. A thermos of Earl Grey. A discreet flat white. Not something that glows in the dark and tastes like midlife crisis.

Giving feedback like you're running a boot camp

“I would’ve liked to see more differentiation” Really, Gavin? I would’ve liked to see more relevant comments. But here we are. Unless you've endured Year 10 thinking every historical female is a Marvel character, kindly keep your critique concise.

In summary, dear readers, if you're coming into my lesson, bring the right attitude:

Sit.

Sip quietly.

Scribble sparingly.

Smile occasionally.

Leave swiftly.

You’re not there to judge the soul of my teaching, just whether I remembered to write the date in the top right corner.