English
Years 7-9
The English department follows its own curriculum in Years 7-9, which is structured around some of the principles of the National Curriculum to create readers and writers who are critical, creative, competent and cultural and allows us the freedom to benefit from teachers' specialisms and individual enthusiasms.
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Every year, girls will study drama, poetry and prose text, pre-twentieth century prose and poetry; a Shakespeare text; a non-fiction/media unit and at least one independently created and motivated project. All study incorporates speaking and listening activities, analytical and creative written responses, responses that require IT skills and a mixture of individual, whole class and small group learning
Years 10-11
All students in Channing follow courses in English and English Literature and, provided the course requirements are met, are entered for both subjects at GCSE (Higher Tier).
Students are taught in form groups, which are also mixed ability sets.
The syllabus followed is OCR. Their English and English Literature courses are designed to be complementary and we can therefore integrate them and teach them simultaneously. The students read a wide range of literary, non-literary and media texts, including Shakespeare and other pre-twentieth century material. Literary texts are chosen for their merit and cover all genres.
The final assessment is made through a combination of formal terminal examinations and oral and written coursework completed throughout the two-year course.
The GCSE builds on the basic skills acquired in the first three years. Our objective is good examination results; our aim to produce women strong in oral and written expression who are also enthusiastic, confident and independent rears.
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A Level
English Literature is a very popular choice at at A Level in Channing, and we have a remarkable success rate. The course followed is that offered by Edexcel with its combination of coursework and formal examinations. The students are taught in seminar groups, and are encouraged to participate in textual analysis and discussion. Most students opt to proceed to A2 after completing the AS section of the course.
Outside the Classroom
Literary Society at Channing
The English department plays a defining role in the cultural and literary life of the school. We have a thriving and well-attended Literary Society with an agenda set by the girls and weekly meetings run by students who give presentations on texts, writers and topics. We host writers' visits two or three times a term and English A level students have lunch with visiting writers before listening to their reading of their work.
Sixth Form girls meet once a week to discuss writers, genres and texts of their choice. They set the agenda for the term and will host lunch and visits of famous writers two or three times a term. It is designed to extend the literary enthusiasm of those studying English A level and considering reading English at university and to allow those who are not studying English at A level to maintain their interest in literature. While it is predominantly a Sixth Form society, the whole school is invited to the talks and readings given by visiting writers.
Girls Fascination in the Restless Heroine of Boyd’s latest Work!
Ending the Literary Society term on a fine note, William Boyd read to a packed Lecture Theatre, full of girls keen to hear this first-rate writer. He read a short story, which is in the process of being televised: ‘The Dreams of Bethany Delamothe’ and asked girls for advice on the casting of the 22 year old eponymous heroine. Having listened, entranced, to the musings of his drifiting, suggestible, artistic heroine, Channing girls were full of ideas of who should play this part. This winsome story of a 20-something struggling to find her identity and keen to free herself from parental influence, while still financially dependent on them, struck a chord with the audience.
William Boyd also proved a most generous Lit. Soc lunch guest: regaling us with candid stories of his own life, the motivations behind his own work (all his writing circles around the protagonist’s search for identity) and that of others (his friends Kazuo Ishiguro and Ian McEwan among others: handy for our English A2 students who are studying these writers!). He was most stimulating company.This is his third trip to Channing and we very much hope he will continue to be a regular visitor.
“Having a sense of wonder”
This is what poetry is all about in the view of Fleur Adcock, one of Britain’s finest poets, who visited Channing School on 9 November for a Literary Society lunch and reading to all year groups in the lecture theatre. She read work from her collected poems and introduced us to poems from her first new collection in many years - Dragon-talk - to be published next May.
The poet laureate, Carol Ann Duffy, has claimed that readers experience Fleur Adcock’s talent "like a razor blade through a peach” and certainly, sharp observation and profundity were smuggled into her simple, witty, direct poems. Her introductions to each poem were generous and illuminating. She was asked about where she found inspiration and explained that walking around her local area East Finchley and Muswell Hill, was an important part of the process for her, but she bemoaned the intrusion of a street lamp on her view from her upstairs window, which “blocks out the moon”. On the evidence of this reading, though, her view is as powerful and enlightening as ever.
Literary Society
There will be no resting on laurels for Channing School’s Literary Society, following its highly successful first year. This term the new year 12s will be making their mark on Lit Soc meetings and the whole school looks forward to more visits from excellent writers.
This term we welcome, Peter Porter, Fleur Adcock, William Boyd and the playwright Sharman Macdonald and next term Lawrence Sail and Helen Simpson will be visiting.
Watch this space too for news of the performance poet, Kat Francois, who has agreed to ‘mix [Lit soc] up a little’ with her visit.
Book Kookies; Year 6 – 7 Book Group
The Book Kookies ended their year truly in touch with their dark side. Having begun the year by dismissing The Witch Child as not exciting enough, the Book Kookies were out for blood. While they enjoyed Chandra and relished the magic of Helen Dunmore’s Ingo creation, they were desperate to get their teeth into the vampiric world of Twilight and – at the very end of term – Mrs Brown and Miss Wharmby finally succumbed and hosted a chocolate-filled exploration of the Twilight sensation.
Yes, sampling a feast of different types of chocolate goodies, the girls attempted to explain to Mrs Brown and Mrs Elliott, who had come along to see what the fuss was about, where the appeal of Twilight lies. Most girls felt the books were better than the film, though they also agreed that it was not so much fine writing, as fast-paced and gripping plot that kept them hooked!
We left full of reading ideas for the holiday and ready –perhaps – to move into sunnier realms for next year’s Book Kookie reads.
Spring Term
During the Spring term, Amy Behrmann and Grace Massey discussed the representation of mothers in literature; there was an exploration of Seamus Heaney’s verse and of the portrayal of Valentine’s Day in literature.
Literary Society visitors included the poet Clare Pollard, whose work is part of the Wjec A level syllabus; Lee Hall discussed his award-winning play The Pitmen Painters and the acclaimed poet Hugo Williams read and discussed his poetry with the girls in March.
Theatre Club
We run a Theatre Club for Year 11 and Sixth Form students, which introduces girls to a wide range of different genres and theatrical experiences. By capitalising on our proximity to the West End and group rates, we can offer girls the chance to see the best and most popular plays and shows. This year Theatre Club has seen Ibsen’s Mrs Affleck; the Evening Standard Award winning The Pitmen Painters at the National Theatre and Billy Elliot. Lee Hall, who wrote both The Pitmen Painters and Billy Elliot visited the school twice to discuss his work.
Trips
We also run theatre trips for younger girls: Year 7s watched Amazonia and Year 8 girls saw War Horse.
Other trips to enrich the study of a text also take place. The Year 8 English students, for example, visited the Foundling Museum, as part of their study of Coram Boy this year.
Public Speaking
The English department runs debating and girls keenly contest a house debating competition, with the final presented to the whole school on the last day of term and next term we will compete in external competitions, such as the Observer Mace. The annual Spoken Poetry competition in the Spring term is entertaining and an important element of the Middle School’s response to verse.
Creative Writing
Congratulations to the following girls, whose entries to the Young Writers I have a dream competition has been awarded publication in the Young Writer's 2009 anthology:
Isabel Finn
Alexandra Trench
Calypso Keane
Beth Raphael
Olivia Jordan
Ruby Visnick
Lucia Cartiglia
Katie Mills
Saskia Moss
Antonia Kempinski
Amanda Cullen
Lauren Duffus
Elayna Mina
Eve Kotsis
Daniella Simpson
Mathilda-Rose Bell
Teia Maury
Eva Vanhaesebroeck
Katie Doe
Stella Pearce
Natasha Steeds
Blaze Kidron-Style
Congratulations to Olivia Roxborough Year 9, whose entry to the prestigious John Betjeman Poetry Competition was rated as being amongst the top 40, out of a field of thousands. Olivia has been invited to the prizegiving ceremony on 22nd October. Read Olivia's poem below.
Holkham
I see my younger self
a small determined figure
in new canvas shoes with
shiny buckles.
Making her way along the board-walk
under the weight of an oversized beach bag.
She fixes her steady gaze at a point right out on the horizon
where the sky meets the sea.
Wondering at the endless expanse
below her.
She pauses for a moment,
then drops bag and shoes
her bare feet break the sand’s crisp crust,
throwing up a cloud of icing sugar.
As she runs into the wind
filling her lungs with freedom.
Chasing something, catching something
that isn’t there
towards the sky of
lapis lazuli.
In the drowsy afternoon
there is no sound but the beating of a
butterfly’s diaphanous wings
and the rhythmic swishing of
a far off sea.
A sylph-like figure
lost in concentration
gathering pocketfuls of
tiny, tightly-coiled
perfect, pale pink shells.
And now in my mind
I inhabit
that mesmerising view
unchanging, timeless.
[Olivia Roxborough; Runner-up: John Betjeman Poetry Competiton, 2009]
The Job of a Book, inspired by Ronna Bloom
This is a collaborative poem by the members of the Middle School Creative Writing Club, run by Dr Martha Bremser:
The job of a book is to be read and recommended.
The job of a book is to be handed down, generation to generation;
to be written and explored and shared and enjoyed.
The job of a book is to teach;
to annoy, to anger,
to fascinate, to depress,
to entertain, to distress,
to frighten, to excite.
The job of a book is to create an image. It is to make people feel happy, sad or angy.
The job of a book is to be liked or to be hated; to be published, to be sold, to teach
and to explain.
The job of a book is to be packed in crates and shipped for many days,
and to be unpacked
on to shelves.
The job of a book is to be dog-eared and crumpled,
Torn and maybe stamped on.
The job of a book is to be dropped in the bath,
Over and over again.
The job of a book is to inform and to lead; the job of a book is
To put you in a different world.
The job of a book is to guide,
To be the second star to the right.
It is to be eternal and to last.
It is to be forgotten behind the sofa.
And found.
Inspired by William Carlos Williams
Created by members of the Middle School Creative Writing Club
This is Just to Say
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold.
William Carlos Williams
This is Just to Say
I have taken
the £50 note
that you were saving.
I wish
I could make it
reappear
but I can’t.
I bought something special
for you.
I hope
that
makes up for it.
Holly Kershaw
(Year 9)
Just to say…
I may
have broken
the green vase
in the hall.
The one Auntie May
left us
when she died.
Though it’s probably
no help,
that vase
was very ugly.
Hester Styles Vickery
(Year 9)
By the way…
I played with (and broke)
the toys in the ‘DON’T TOUCH’ box:
the Lego, the car and the robot dog.
You know, the ones you were
saving
to play with at the
party tomorrow.
It’s not my fault,
Mum wouldn’t buy them
for me too
and I really wanted them.
Antonia Kempinski
(Year 7)
Girls are encouraged to write creatively outside the classroom as much as possible and girls' work is entered for poetry and creative writing competitions and ‘published’ in the school magazine or on the website. Recent Winners include Holly Kershaw’s winning poem London (below) which won the Your Local London poetry competition.
Advance Notice: Writer in Residence: 2010
We are delighted that the acclaimed playwright Diane Samuels will be taking up a term's residency in Autumn 2010. She will offer creative writing workshops to all year groups, develop the AS Creative writing coursework with the Year 12 students and in conjunction with the Drama department will develop girls' directing and management of scripts.
London
It was late
But a few people were still out
I was one of them.
Music blared into my ears
A woman peered over her spectacles as I walked past,
A light flickered and went out,
I focused on reaching my destination.
‘A strange man walks in the Ally-ally-way.
Oh the ally-ally-way, the ally-ally way
Oh a strange man wonders through the ally-ally way
Make sure you always stay away.’
Some teens stood on a street corner,
They looked down a me like I was something on their shoe,
A piece of chewing gum, or maybe an old, smoked cigarette,
Perhaps once held in the hand of someone they knew
Dropped and stepped on, used and forgotten.
Simply there to cure a need,
A guilty pleasure,
Like me.
I concentrated on not being their night’s entertainment
But they were moving towards me,
Slowly
Intimidating me
Looking me up and down
I tried not to meet their eyes,
Hoping that if I couldn’t see them,
They couldn’t see me.
They saw something that distracted their attention away from me,
And I took the opportunity to hurry away.
I focused on reaching my destination.
‘There was a rubbish bin man
And he drove a rubbish van a mile,
He found a rubbish bag on a rubbish pile
And caught a rubbish pigeon,
Who caught a rubbish worm,
And they all lived rubbishly in the estate on top of the hill.’
I skimmed my fingers lightly against the gates of the battered estate,
Musing over my day.
Turning a sharp corner
I saw a couple, with a little girl, in a heated argument;
The mother couldn’t be older than 17,
I wondered if the man was the father.
He glared at me daring me to look again.
I didn’t.
Rain fell steadily on me,
I listened to the ‘pat pat pat’ of it against my bag.
A man with a dog lay on the side of the street,
I clumsily dodged his reaching wandering hand,
He’d written on a piece of cardboard that he was blind,
But yet his eyes met mine.
I heard a baby cry from inside one of the houses,
Heavy footsteps came close behind me
‘Police go up and police go down,
To catch the thieves of Camden Town,
You can run and you can hide,
But you can’t escape our wondering eyes.’
I crossed a road
And thought of the words my mother would repeat to me,
“Look both ways
Use all your senses,
And don’t be careless.”
Words people had disregarded and forgotten,
Leading to the sound of sirens
A sound that one becomes used to,
A sound that I had heard so often,
That I no longer noticed it.
A stray black cat jumped out of a rubbish bin,
Crossing my path,
A drunk man swaggered in front of me,
But I swerved around him,
I focused on reaching my destination,
‘Stacie had an ugly pug it’s fur as brown as mud;
And everywhere that Stacie went, the pug was sure to go.
It followed her to work one day, which was against the law;
It made the customers run and hide, to see a pug at McDonalds.
And so the manager kicked it out, but still it lingered near,
And waited patiently about till Stacie did appear.
“Why does the pug love Stacie so?” the frustrated customers cried;
‘Why, Stacie hates the pug you know” the waiters did reply.’
I reached a bus stop
And realised I had no money.
I walked.
Head down,
Shoulders square,
There was nothing I could do,
Because that’s London for you.
By Holly Kershaw
Christopher Tower Poetry Competition
Below is one of the Head Girl's entry to this prestigious poetry competition:
Outside Insomnia
Far from the East here the starless-still air
Fills the light-wintered blackness in absence of moon.
IN your window-lit bedroom your mind is ajar.
Yearning to resist Night’s reality of visions
Of voices of sea-silenced fast-flighted creatures
Of fury-fierce faces of fire-eyes burning
Bright are the streetlights that frighten away
Your darkness, your dreams, your haven, your host
Of angels who cannot support this sight.
Lot is your rest in the radiant beams
Imprinting your image in white-yellow streams which
Smother the smited filth-footstepped frost.
Learning to wield the weight of your skin
From your eyes as the raucous-deaf rhythm-veiled hymn
Grace the God-Head’s violent neglectful turning
Right from the East and away from your mind
Where it lies to plight your mumbled quiet
Throughout this cold and perennial night.
By Eleanor Hardy
Year 7 Descriptive Pieces
My Garden
The trees sway back and forth in the breeze, their gnarled branches trembling as if with anger. As the dark clouds creep across the sky, covering the land like a velvet quilt, the trees’ shadows grow menacingly longer, getting nearer and nearer. Suddenly, the wind whistles louder, pounding at the windows as he desperately searches for the sanctuary of home, slamming the garden gate on his way out. The trees perform their final shudder, releasing an eruption of leaves slowly dancing to the ground to settle as a golden carpet. The sun graciously glides from behind her fluffy hiding place and beams down on the Earth, every flower bursting open to stare at her in awe, the miniature army of insects stopping to gaze up. The floral smell is now so strong you can almost taste it. But that’s only my garden.
Martha Morgan.
My Garden
As I step into my garden, the soggy wet leaves on the ground squelch as I walk over them. The garden is a prime example of the harsh effects of winter. The trees, once heavily laden with fruit are now skeletal. My boots leave an impression o marking my presence in the somewhat deserted garden. The flowers once blooming and cheerful like a thousand smiling suns, now just crumbly earth. I watch carefully as under a rotted piece of wood I see a troupe of minute, microscopic millipedes hardly bigger than my fingernail, and army of them in their dolls’ house town. As I walk on through the garden a frog jumps out suddenly in front of me, its scaly skin reminiscent of ancient creatures from days gone by and its eyes sorrowful and scared.
Alicia Parkes
My Garden
As soon as I stepped out of the door, the cold, crisp contrast with the warm house I had just left hit me, shocking me so much I nearly stepped back in. Whilst winter still enveloped the garden, spring was starting to poke its bright face through the icy chill. A host of daffodil shoots, like the spears of a miniature army lurking just beneath the soil, poked up courageously into the harsh light. A robin hopped impatiently near as a worm appeared on its daily rounds and extended its wings to swoop down onto the wriggling worm like a bargain-hunter on a brittle brown branch, heavy with tiny green buds clinging bravely to the lifeless branch like barnacles to a boat. Below was a compost heap, in which a small tunnel was carved an entrance into the home of a hedge-hog, fast asleep beneath the warmth of its compost blanket, soon to emerge into the warm spring sunlight.
Chloe Johnson
Year 9 Poems
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