What’s this education lark all about?

I had my first teacher training interview last Friday. I’m not sure how I came across or whether I shall be invited back for the next stage in the recruitment process. One thing I was asked to do was to give a 5 minute presentation on a topic of my choice and after some deliberation, I decided to talk about my vision for education. I figured it was important to explain why I wanted to be a teacher and what kind of teacher I wanted to be. If my vision didn’t square with theirs, then we would not be a good fit either way.

I’m sharing here some of what I said. Maybe you can have a better inkling than me whether it went down well or not. In any case, I found it a useful exercise to put into words what I believe education is about and what it should look like. It went a little like this…

Let me start by saying that education is very precious to me. It allowed me to be more thoughtful, analytical and philosophical. It opened many doors for me and I want to be able to pass that gift on to my students and help open doors for them too. I’ve seen the various educational debates that are raging at the moment between the “traditionalists” who emphasize a knowledge-led curriculum versus the “progressives” who want to focus more on creative thinking and problem solving skills. And I have to confess to being baffled by this dichotomy on offer. Why do we have to choose between one or the other?

I’ve always thought it was a given that a teacher’s job was to impart knowledge and that this knowledge would underpin creativity and problem solving. Let me give you an analogy which demonstrates my point, albeit not in an educational setting. My mother taught me how to make perfect, fluffy white rice. Over the years, I have taken her recipe and added a few tweaks of my own. My expertise in cooking rice gave me the confidence to play around with the recipe, to be creative with it. I hope to teach my son, when he is a bit older, how to cook rice both the way my mum made it and with my innovations. In due course, I expect he will go forth into the world with this knowledge and try out his own permutations of it. In this way knowledge gets passed on and improved upon from generation to generation.

I guess this means that I fall more into the “knowledge-led” camp. To be honest though, I think this is all a bit of a no brainer and that we need to look beyond this debate. What do we understand by a good education? Now it is beyond the scope of my 5 minutes to answer this question in any depth but let me give you, very briefly, my perspective on what encapsulates a good education, based on what I have read and observed in schools so far.

I’ve talked already about the importance of imparting knowledge and so I won’t go much more into that. Secondly, I believe in pitching things up and setting high expectations rather than pitching things down as is so often the case. For example, I am not in favour of giving students lots of handouts rather than expecting them to write their own notes and I’m not in favour of spoon feeding them with writing frames rather than encouraging them to formulate their own sentences. I have seen Year 10 history students carelessly copy down the writing frames on the white board and then cobble them together with what is written on their handouts, resulting in often incoherent sentences that make no grammatical sense. I think all this spoon feeding derives from a sense, not overtly articulated, that the students are just not able to work at that high a level and so we have to pitch things down for them. But then this becomes a self fulfilling prophecy. If you want to raise standards you have to have high expectations. You can’t do it by just making things easier. Of course that’s much harder to do and much more challenging, but nothing worthwhile is ever achieved by taking the easy road.

When I think of a good education I also think of language skills and communication. If you can’t read, write or speak properly, you haven’t been well educated, full stop. I am able to sit here before you and speak articulately about this topic precisely because of my education.

And finally we come to what is, to my mind, one of the biggest issues of the day: behaviour management. If you are constantly having to manage even low level disruption, constantly having to stop what you’re saying because someone is talking over you, then you are not going to be able to teach very well. I see behaviour and discipline rather like the first building blocks in Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. In order to learn, I believe you need to be in classrooms where there is good behaviour. You can have a well behaved classroom where learning doesn’t happen, but not the other way around.

Those then are my five pillars of a good education: knowledge, pitching things up, language, communication and discipline. That’s what I think teaching is about and I hope most of what I have said chimes with your outlook on education.

[At this point, I was told I had about 30 seconds left, so I decided to squeeze in one last bit of the presentation I had prepared.]

Let me finish with this little vignette.

Many teachers will have had a light bulb moment when they realise teaching is the profession for them. Although I probably had been thinking about it sub-consciously for a while, I had such a moment when I received this note from my son’s teacher.

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When I tell you this note was written by no less than the deputy head of an Ofsted Outstanding school, you may get an idea of my level of frustration, disillusionment and ultimately my conviction that someone needs to step in and raise standards. I do believe that teachers have to be well educated themselves, to be masters of their subject, in order to pass that on to their students. When I saw this note I realised that here was an opportunity for me to do something of value. Or more simply, it made me feel needed. And so here I am, raring to go. Thank you for listening.

When did we lose our authority over our kids?

At the tail end of Friday I heard some of my colleagues discuss meeting up in the pub for a few drinks after work. My plans were rather different: pick up the kid from after school club, then home. I managed to get through dinner, homework and bedtime before collapsing into bed myself and sleeping for an unheard of 13 hours.

So what made my week so exhausting? I work as a learning support assistant though I do also teach EAL English to a few students who are refugees from Syria. This involves developing the curriculum, lesson planning and preparing an end of term 1 assessment for them, so one could say there is something of the teacher’s workload in my busy week. Still, I haven’t had to mark mountains of homework so that alone doesn’t go far enough towards explaining my fatigue.

Maybe it’s because we are approaching half term but I do get the sense that behaviour has got a lot worse over the last week. I had to break up two fights in the corridor in the space of two days and on the last period on Friday, at the start of my enrichment club, a girl came into my classroom, said a few angry words to a boy there, punched him in the stomach and then strutted out before I had a chance to stop her getting away. I later had to try to sift through class photos on the SIMS system before I identified her and gave her a “red card” for “reckless behaviour” which will add 10 behaviour points to the 60 or so she had already, no big deal for her.

All week long, navigating a path to classrooms between each lesson has proved to be something of an obstacle course. Hordes of children moving about in a chaotic manner, sometimes just stopping in the middle of the staircase for a chat, sometimes having raging arguments, laughing or being rowdy – this is no orderly procession from class to class. Fighting my way through these hordes to get to my classroom has become something of a daily struggle. Yesterday after period 3, I finally reached the top floor, turned right towards my classroom only to hear a girl shouting out to another “I’m going to punch you for this”. I remonstrated with “this is not appropriate language to use at school” but the girl simply ignored me and walked off.

I also noticed something else which gave me pause for thought. Twice this week, I have been accused by students of being rude to them, both times in nearly identical circumstances. This is what happened. I was trying to make my way up the back staircase to go to my next lesson but got held up by a group of girls having a heated conversation on the half landing. I said to them in a stern voice “go to your classrooms now please”, when this had no effect I then raised my voice and said “get moving to your class now” and when that still had no effect I literally had to shout at them to “go on, get moving now”. What did I then get for my troubles? A pained, injured expression on their faces and the accusation that I had been rude to them.

When did it become ok for students to talk back at teachers and accuse them of being rude? When did we lose our authority over our children? Looking back at my years at school, I don’t think I could ever have spoken to my teachers the way these kids were talking to me. If a teacher had told me to go to my classroom, I would have obeyed. I don’t think I ever witnessed chairs being upended or threats of physical violence, something of a daily occurrence in my school. Let’s not forget, this is a school rated as “good” by Ofsted. I dread to think what goes on in the ones that require improvement.

I am not so old that I ever experienced corporal punishment in school but there was always an element of respectful fear of teachers, particularly senior staff. Both of my headmistresses, Mlle Dutouquet in primary and Miss Rudland in secondary were what one would call battleaxes. Rather strict and stern individuals you didn’t ever want to get on the wrong side of. If you happened to pass them in the corridor, you would unconsciously make yourself as inconspicuous as possible. You did not want that eagle eye to fall on you.

Now I don’t want to come across as a traditionalist who views the past through gilded lenses. The kind of schools where teachers could behave like tyrants, ordering children about and imposing harsh punishments for misdemeanours obviously have no place in our modern world. Yet I do wonder if our efforts to empower children and to give them a voice have taken matters to the other extreme. Their empowerment has come at the expense of our authority. There is a happy medium somewhere but I have not seen it in any of the schools I have worked in, except perhaps the independent prep school I was with last year.

It is in this context that I am intrigued by the reports I read about Michaela free school in Wembley, the marmite school that has sharply divided opinion. Its head is Katharine Birbalsingh, the darling of the Tories and a champion of Michael Gove’s educational reforms. This on its own is enough to raise the hackles of the left leaning educational establishment. As I don’t belong to any of the two main political tribes of this country, I am not particularly bothered by the political hue of this school’s leadership. What interests me is what they seem to be achieving in terms of behaviour and educational attainment. I am told that students at Michaela walk the corridors in silence between lessons and that they are able to pack up their belongings, get to the next lesson and be ready to learn all in the space of 2 minutes. I hear that teachers are free to teach without having to constantly keep on top of behaviour management. I hear that they teach the children about gratitude and kindness. I’m intrigued.

On an impulse last week, I sent an email to the vice principal of my school who is also my line manager. I attached a link to Tom Benett’s blog about his visit to Michaela and asked whether anyone from our school had been to visit. If there were any plans to do so in the pipeline, please could I hitch a ride? When I next met up with her, she asked me about Michaela in a way that indicated she had never heard of this school before. I was surprised. I forgot that not everyone is in my twitter bubble. The long and short of it is that she would be happy for me to visit Michaela as part of my CPD though I did suggest that she accompany me there, as I feel it is important for a member of the leadership to see if there are any lessons we can learn from Michaela.

So, Michaela school, I hope you are still welcoming visitors because I want to come and see for myself how you do the things you do. If you’ve managed to crack the behaviour thing, then I want to learn how you do it. Make no mistake. Behaviour is the single most important issue in education today. We need to sort it out for the children’s sake but also for our own sanity. Maybe then I won’t have to come home at the end of the week feeling as low as I did last Friday.