learning – Jenn Leah Ko

My Past Paper Resource for the ever-dwindling Classicists

I’ve complained before—perhaps over a cup of tea in the staff room, or in the quiet echo chamber of my own thoughts—about the peculiar solitude of teaching CIE Classical Studies 9274. Where was the bustling agora for us? The CIE support hub could be quiet, the Facebook groups a ghost town, and Reddit… well, let’s just say the threads exemplify how few people are crazy enough to take this course. We were a scattered cohort of teachers and learners, navigating this magnificent, dense course largely on our own.

So, I did the only thing a frustrated classicist can do. I’ve created a resource for A-Level Classical Studies 9274, using the same obsessive-compulsive principle as my IGCSE History 0470 one. It’s all here: past papers dissected, topics mapped, and question trends laid bare in an attempt to create the shared foundation I felt was missing.

But let’s get to the fun part. The proof, as they say, is in the pudding.

Back in October 2025, as we were deep in the final revision push for the November series, I decided to test a theory. I fed years of meticulously organised data for Paper 4 (Homer’s Epics) into an AI and posed a simple, high-stakes question: Based on the patterns of the last several years, what are the highest probability topics for the upcoming exam?

The AI, coolly analytical, spat out its top candidates. And lo and behold, when my students opened their exam papers, there it was: a question focusing squarely on the theme of Xenia.

Screenshot from my October 2025 chat with Deepseek.

Cue my stunned silence, followed by a very undignified moment of triumph at my desk!!! The resource I built to create clarity had just proven its predictive power. A screenshot of that AI conversation is my new favourite piece of pedagogical evidence. Do you need any more convincing of how useful this is?

The point isn’t that we can now gamble on exams. The point is that by systematically understanding the past, we can better prepare for the future. This tool makes that possible.

So, consider this your invitation to the 9274 agora. This resource is here, free for any teacher or learner who needs it. May it save you time, spark your ideas, and maybe—just maybe—give you a glimpse into the mind of the examiner.

If you find it useful, or if you have ideas to make it better, let me know. Let’s stop teaching in isolation and start building this community ourselves. After all, that’s how the classics have survived this long—through shared scholarship, one scroll (or spreadsheet) at a time.

My Attempt to Tame the Past Paper Pile

Pedagogy

Let’s be honest, my Downloads folder was a mess. In the frantic rush of the school year, it had become a digital cupboard where every IGCSE History 0470 past paper went to get lost. I knew the valuable revision tools were in there, but finding a specific question on the Spanish Civil War or the Cuban Missile Crisis felt like an archaeological dig. I needed a system, for my own sanity as much as for my students.

I’m sure more polished versions of this exist somewhere in the ether. This is not a revolutionary product, but a teacher’s homemade solution—I’m basing my aggregation off of a long-ago Instagram post by venerable Miss Stout’s History Class over in Ireland. So, I built a thing. A resource born equally from a desire to streamline my own teaching and to give my students a clearer path through the thicket of exam preparation.

The goal was simple: to slice and dice the past papers into a searchable, sortable format. For me, it has been a quiet lifesaver. I can now, in the minutes before a class, instantly pull a ‘Describe’ question from 2018 on the Potsdam Conference for a quick do-now task. I can build a focused mock exam on the Cold War in Europe without an evening of cross-referencing. It gives me back the one thing teachers never have enough of: time.

Its real success, though, is measured in the classroom. There’s a palpable drop in anxiety when a student looks at a past paper and recognises the structure, when they can say, “I’ve practiced ten of these ‘Type b’ questions.” It breaks down the monstrous exam into manageable, familiar chunks.

I will admit, the process of creating it was its own education. The Paper 2 breakdown, in particular, was a meticulous labour that required more than one pot of matcha. It’s far from perfect. I’m already looking at my own topic categories for Paper 1 and seeing the seams. History, in its glorious complexity, doesn’t always fit into the neat boxes I designed, and I’m sure the next iteration will be better.

But a work-in-progress is better than no progress at all. So, I’m putting this one out into the world. If you are a fellow educator grappling with the same paper pile, or a learner looking for a structured way to revise, you are welcome to it.

I’ve uploaded it here for anyone to use, free of charge. It’s my small contribution to the teaching community that has given me so much. If you do get a chance to use it, please let me know. I’d love to hear how it works for you, and what I can do to make it better. After all, the best resources, like the best lessons, are always a collaborative work in progress.

Cold days and warm insights: Another term of teaching done

Education, History, Pedagogy

It’s 9°C in Hong Kong at the moment—veritably freezing for this little isle on the South China Sea—and the CNY holiday has gifted me with some respite to reflect on what might be my most satisfactory period of work to date.

Two years ago today, I was sitting in my considerably chillier Montréal apartment, working from home as a historical researcher, desperately trying to conquer the voices of the void. I loved the research, but I dearly missed teaching. There is something unquantifiably exciting about engaging with young students who are grappling with new ideas for the first time; collaborating with fellow educators who are passionate about the value they bring to a community; contributing to building a more positive microcosm of the school; and embracing the never-ending novelty of learning something every day.

January marks the end of the first term of my second year teaching at an international school in Hong Kong. Due to some career changes, a global pandemic, and some family matters, it’s actually the longest I’ve worked anywhere. This academic year is for other firsts as well: first time teaching humanities and first time serving as a Head of Year.

I had anticipated some challenges prior to taking on these new roles. Would I be able to keep up with all the new content knowledge required of my IGCSE and A-Level courses? (The answer was yes—I actually struggled more with economics within KS3 Social Studies.) Would I be able to prove that I deserved a leadership position in pastoral amongst the many more-experienced teachers at my school? (I hope so—this one I still struggle answering with critical self-empathy.) Could I do this on top of expanding the scope and success of the Yearbook Committee? (TBD—the full publication and distribution should be completed by June 2025.) Would I be able to juggle everything while also completing an assignment-heavy PGCE? (Yes—although I cannot say I did so happily.) Looking back, these challenges appear easily overcome.

Being able to combine my love of teaching with my love for history has been a large tenet of why this first term has been so successful. An astute IGCSE History student, H.N., has asked more than once “why does it seem like you don’t miss being an English teacher?” There’s nothing wrong with the subject of course—I love language and literature, and an aspect I miss more than others is how reading my students’ written work allowed me to know them a little more deeply. More than once, I responded to H.N.’s inquiry by making a joke about how I no longer know how to speak English.

But if I were to answer honestly, I would probably say… I have loved the study of the past since I took four separate history electives in my suburban Ontario high school. Or perhaps even earlier, when my dad brought me to Unionville Public Library during summer break, and I borrowed out my pre-teen weight’s worth of historical fiction. It could be further back still, when my wee brother and I sat with our feet dangling from the dining room table, listening to stories of our family’s diasporic paths. Being able to plan and deliver lessons for a subject I am so passionate about makes every workday a joyful one. Being able to geek out with fellow history enthusiasts brings out the child in me. Being able to inspire students who initially dislike the subject to change their minds is incredibly motivating!

This blog started as an exercise to prove to myself that I can still write without AI, but it seems that I have waffled for long enough. I’ve soliloquised for so long it is now 17°C and I can go enjoy the last of my break with a trip to the beach. Here’s hoping for another good term.