English


Years 7-9

Year 7

Year 8

Year 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.  


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

Below is the winning poem in the 7-12 years category for the Borough of Barnet's Annual Poetry Competition, written by Tori M Kaye in Year 7:

No. 17 Garbage Bin

No cheese,
And what is the point of please?
No wasps,
And find a cure for coughs!
No dirty dishes,
Soppy hugs or kisses!
No more noisy traffic,
Or cobwebby atticks!
No distractions,
Or boring fractions!
No more rain,
Or ouchy pain!
No more swearing,
Or music blaring!
Nerds who cant work out four times four,
Or people who always ask for more!

Tori M Kaye


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.

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.

AS Level                                                 A2 Level

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.

 

Glad to wear glasses

John Hegley’s Literary Society visit gave rise to an unprecedented number of Lit Soc firsts. The first time that a speaker has asked for a translation from French of one of his pieces of work, the first time a writer has composed a poem on the spot about a late entrant’s squeaking door (‘speaking floor…’); the first time that all the audience have been asked to shout ‘amoeba’ as a refrain and absolutely the first time that our Deputy Head as been asked to jump up, wave her glasses in the air and yell at the end of a poem.
These firsts, though, do not just reflect the energy and consummate crowd pleasing of John Hegley’s reading, but speak too of the faintly dangerous undercurrents that lie beneath his verse and are part of what offer his work its edge and dynamism. In a passionate tirade on behalf of all spectacle wearers, John Hegley started with characteristic stridency with his iconic poem, Glad to wear glasses. All contact lens wearers looked down as he attacked lenses as ‘ a denial of the self/…a denial of the other’ but his new poems about animals – going through the alphabet (including the fuzzy orange parrot, who mistook himself for a carrot) proved equally popular with a  packed audience.
His ‘heavy light verse’ captivated us and, while he has been termed the ‘laureate of the lugubrious’, an excited audience left uplifted and delighted by humour used to hammer home powerful issues.

 

Book Kookies; Year 6 – 7 Book Group

Year 6-7 Book Group
This Fairseat-Channing combined book group has been enjoying an exciting year so far full of literary debate about some very contrasting novels, with some rather delicious cookies to help us munch our way through the sessions. Starting the year with a discussion about books that get our hearts racing or our backs up, we then plunged into the adventure of Dodie Smith’s beautiful coming-of-age tale I Capture the Castle. Interestingly, the group was divided between those who were captured by the novel’s magic and strong characterisation, and those who weren’t enticed beyond the drawbridge.

However, a much-anticipated meeting about our next read, FE Higgins’ The Black Book of Secrets had teachers and students relishing the chance to share their favourite episodes from this surprisingly dark tale. Topics for the session included revenge, deception, delightfully gory descriptions and just a little bit of grave digging.

As we move into the Summer term, the group is about to choose its next read. Suggestions for tales that involve moving out of castles and graveyards and into slightly sunnier climes are welcome...s ee Mrs Wharmby or Miss Stacey with your blossoming ideas!

Year 8-9
The older group has also been scaling the heights of love and friendship and plunging the depths of death and despair with this year’s read – delectable baked goods at the ready to help us through the darker moments! Abomination by Robert Swindells began the year with a gloomier tone, although the group agreed that it was ready for a more substantial subsequent read. With delight we moved on to The Book Thief by Marcus Zusak and the ‘gems’ of description to be found on nearly every page.

The highlight of this term has been an enchanting and stimulating visit by author Gaby Halberstam, whose novel The Red Dress provided much food for thought.  The Kookies were privileged to hear more about the inspirations and motivations behind the book from the author herself, who also offered wonderful writing tips, including reminders to keep writing every day and to enjoy the whole experience.

The group now needs to decide on a book for this last half term of the year. Recurring favourites keep surfacing, such as Abella by Berlie Docherty, Kiss the Dust by Elizabeth Laird and King of Shadows by Susan Cooper. Keep an eye out for Kookie posters around Channing to see what’s next on the menu.

 

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. We began the Theatre Club year in a fun mood with a trip to the charming, comic re-invention of The 39 Steps and followed it in the same term with an investigation into the lives of Auden and Britten in Alan Bennett’s new play, The Habit of Art. Comedy was still firmly on the agenda as we watched Kiera Knightley and Damien Lewis in The Misanthrope, then– on a slightly different scale - went to Ben Brown’s play about the foundations of Israel, The Promise, at The Orange Tree theatre: not West End perhaps, but had the benefit of the writer (Mrs Brown’s husband) being readily accessible and very happy to come in after the trip to discuss the play with theatre clubbers. The Theatre Club year closed – where it begun – on a comic note, but this time it was the searing wit of Tom Stoppard’s The Real Thing that charmed us.

Trips

We have run trips for the younger girls too this year. Year 7 went to see War Horse, Year 8 to Nation and Year 9 An Inspector Calls.

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

We are delighted to announce that we have secured places on the prestigious Arvon Foundation Residential Creative Writing course for February 2011. Girls are busily applying in large numbers: the closing date for the application is 7 June 2010. On the course girls will stay at the 14th Century manor house Totleigh Barton in Devon for five days and write, with the two professional writers giving tutorials and workshops.

Write Over London:

Channing’s English department is to be running a creative writing conference for students from Channing and the other East London Consortium Schools, on 17 June at Kenwood House, north London. We look forward to reading the wonderful work created on the day in the company of our wonderful work-shopping writers, Michael Laskey and the poet Clare Pollard.

Senior School Creative Writing

This new group for Years 10-13, which originally began during Tuesday lunchtime sessions just after the October half term, is now flourishing. Weekly meetings after school on Thursdays are exciting and stimulating - in just an hour, from 4-5pm, every member of the group (including teachers) engages in workshop tasks to inspire creativity and allow space for good practice. Recent tantalising tasks have included our own version of ‘The Furniture Game’, through which we eagerly described favourite literary characters with extended metaphors (Silas Marner as a desk, Much Ado’s Beatrice as a patchwork quilt or Alec D’Urberville as war, anyone?!) and taking inspiration from Carol Ann Duffy’s anthology Answering Back to make our own responses to favourite poems.

The outcomes from these relaxed, accessible sessions have been a delight to behold. Keep an eye out for the future editions of The Write Word, our Senior School Creative Writing magazine, to see some of the fruits of these labours, or log on to that laptop or iPhone to join in our interactive Facebook space for our up-to-the-minute scribblings. Or just have a read of some of these...


At Senior Creative Writing (group poem by Emma Fox, Ellie Myerson, Calyx Palmer, Flora Purbeck, Olivia Roxborough and Miss Stacey!)

At Senior Creative Writing

we want to
dance across a clean white canvas
look beyond the cumulonimbus clouds
and take down the guard dogs to our creativity

we are
a splash of vibrant paint on Tuesday’s timetable,
a flush of colour amidst the darkness
a swelling balloon drifting into soft, blue skies

we are
a stray bird waiting to be found
a breath of fresh air in a cave
deep underground

we are
an accumulation of worlds
heaven and hell
and all places in between

we are
an inquisitive stranger seeking help
a tip-toe across a tight-rope

we are
a group of explorers, architects, royalty and writers,
a friendship holder clutching hands
with all her might

we are
voice-crafters
essay-snatchers
a plum on a blooming tree

we are
a lark singing her morning tune

we are
east of the sun and west of the moon.



Apples and Pairs by Nicola Wolff, Year 11

Shines the green skin against faded denim,
He draws circles on the surface,
With waxy fingertips.
Threatens the shell of juice
With a blade.
Slices through the hissing flesh.
It rolls in half.
Splits in half again.
He slides a piece to her,
They bite.
Juices wash both mouths
And mix.
With lips, together.

Letting Go by Hester Styles-Vickery, Year 10

She looks out the window at the rain-spattered pavements below. A bitter wind had sprung up that morning, chasing out the last breaths of summer. Umbrellas pass beneath her, their occupants hurrying past. They do not look up, why would they? Slate skies gaze down at unforgiving cobbles. She reaches out the window, and opens her clenched fist. She watches, fascinated, as the paper flutters down to the street. It catches in the gutter, eddying off and on to its own adventure. All her words, all her feelings, bleeding blue ink into the rushing stream. Gone. The rain falls, but the silence remains.

 

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

 

 

 

When My Stomach Ached

BY HOLLY KERSHAW

CHAPTER 1


She was number one
On my speed dial
She was the reason
My fridge was empty
She was the reason
My room was a mess
She was there
Whether I wanted her to be
Or not.
She new everything about me
But she still liked me
She was my
Best friend

She pushed the branch
Out of the way,
With a simple
Flick of her wrist.
Her mouth moving
Like a string was tugging
At her lips.
She would be at it for hours,
My mother always said
‘She could talk for England.’
But I listened
To most of it.

We sat on the
Old tree house,
That our brothers
Had built.
And talked about
Anything
And everything.
We would laugh
So hard,
That our stomachs
Ached.
And talk about what
We wanted to do
With our lives.
It was only
When she reached the end
Of her story,
A smug smile
Spread out on her lips,
That I realised
I had drifted off.
I scrutinised her
Trying to catch
A clue
To what facial expression
She was after.
She caught me though.
She knew me too well.
Then in her true fashion
Throwing her head back
She laughed.
I laughed too.
And then together
In perfect harmony
We laughed.


White Beaches: By Libby Tsoi

Chapter One: Paradise.

I woke up
and put on my swimming costume.
The red one
with the red stripes
and the red straps
and the red lily
with it’s bright yellow spots.

I held my sister’s and cousin’s arms
and trod down the sandy stairs.
My Mother was reading a book
on the beach
with my Auntie.
My Auntie was reading a magazine
on the beach
with my Mother.

My cousin ran to join them
in ‘paradise.’
I stayed behind
with my sister
and hummed along to my ipod,
my favourite song on my ipod:
a short song :
‘Before The Worst.’

I carried my towel in my left hand,
Held my sister’s arm in my right hand.
Both hands full with handy things:
My sun tan lotion from L’Oreal, factor 25
My copy of Twilight, Stephenie Meyer
My navy towel from the hotel bathroom and
My favourite passion fruit lip balm from
my Mother’s make-up bag.
Things I would soon lose
and find
later.

I started to hear the faint thump of a new beat
and gave my sister the earphone.
I saw her smile to the thump of the new beat
and she bopped her head along to the music.
I removed the sounds from our ears as we tip-toed down the steps.
The excitement was overwhelming
even though it was just the beach.
I didn’t really know why I was so excited.

I knew why
later.

“Before the worst
before we knew
before the world
decides the water’s coming through.
“Before today
before too long
let’s try to get prepared
before it all goes wrong.”


6 Life - Ending Letters             

By Emma Fox
Chapter 1

Stroke.
S.T.R.O.K.E.
6 letters. 6 life – ending letters.

The phone call was the worst.
It wasn’t to me But it hurt.
The sound of my mother’s voice Higher and lower
A gasp, a shriek
NO!
Once I heard the Click of the phone
Hanging up
My mum startled me.
She was afraid.
“Emma, we need to talk.” 
The hospital room was dull.
White, grey, blue.
Why bother?
It might aswell be
Black.
People die here
Lots of people die here
Black. 
His eyes were shut.
His bread untouched.
His hands as still as night.
NO.
Watching waiting
Watching waiting
Watching Waiting. 
Comfortors come.
They touch, They reassure.
A stroke of my cheek
A brush on my back
A squeeze of my hand Do nothing. 
I remember once he said To me
“You’re exactly like your mother”
But I’m not. Am I?
Mum can do everything Can I?
Can I make you better?
I want him back
Come back I call
know he can hear me,
Come back.
I am pushed aside by doctors
He’s mine 
Not yours Mine.