Posts Tagged ‘education’

School Report

Saturday, July 24th, 2010

For the last two weeks of the Summer term, which ended yesterday, I’ve been in the school where I will be a full-time teacher from September onwards. This has given me time to reflect on whether I made the right decision by accepting their offer of employment.

My interview was a half-day back towards the beginning of June, and as is customary for a teaching post, I was to find out about its outcome later that same day. With a mere few hours in the school, you can but make an educated guess as to whether or not it’s the school for you. I decided that I would accept the post if it were offered to me.

Back on that day, I thought it seemed about right. Certain things gave me the sense that I’d like to work at the school, but I remained wary that my judgement may have been askew. These two weeks would reveal if my educated guess was in fact the right answer, and I have been left in no doubt by my fortnight there: I was spot on.

You need a considerable amount of fortune to find yourself a teaching post in a place as wonderful as my school. It is a truly amazing place, and few who visit there would come to any other conclusion.

The school is incredibly friendly. Everyone is universally welcoming: the caretaker, the caterers, the office staff, the TAs, the teachers, the management team, and of course the children themselves. All of the staff set a wonderful example for how people should treat one another. There are few workplaces as caring as this one.

Everyone has a smashing sense of humour, and a genuine desire to contribute to those around them having a nice day. The school is supportive to everyone who is a part of the community, which is the most important thing a school can be.

I imagine that pupils and staff alike are proud to be part of the school. They certainly should be. I feel immensely proud that the team there thought I was worthy of working alongside them, and hope that I can prove their judgement right.

Meanwhile, I have a class to work with. I have met them, and they are an amazing bunch themselves. I’m looking forward to doing the best I can to give them a good education, and to help them to feel confident in their ability to succeed and treat others well.

Beginning my first teaching post is daunting, but I think I’ve found the perfect place to do it.

Michael Gove sets a good example. (Yes, you read right)

Friday, July 9th, 2010

Michael Gove has had a tough week. Amidst his ever-emerging plans to cut expenditure in state education, he made an error. If one were weighing up the scale of the error against the question “how sizeable was this error?”, the answer would at least be “moderately sizeable”.

When Labour were in power, they promised that schools would be able to rebuild and refurbish their premises to provide the high level of education expected of them. Under the coalition government, they have been told that it would probably be impossible for them to do so.

A document was produced listing the schools which would not be able to proceed with redevelopment, causing those happily omitted from it to celebrate. As it emerged, this document contained many errors, and the celebration from some schools would turn out to be misfounded.

This error, which Michael Gove had responsibility for, rather angered some people.

The anger is understandable. Many schools need the funds to rebuild or redevelop facilities which cannot cope with the demands placed on them. Alongside other cuts to essentials such as the provision of Teaching Assistants and the financial implications of NOT becoming an academy, this is disastrous news for many schools.

One MP in the House of Commons was particularly angry. Tom Watson, Labour MP for West Bromwich East, was particularly so. In a verbal onslaught in front of a packed House of Commons, he responded to Gove’s apology by labelling him a ‘miserable pipsqueak’ at the top of his voice. It’s worth a watch.

As regular readers of my Gove-related posts (and those unfortunate enough to hear me talk at them) will know, I’m not a fan of Michael Gove’s policies. I believe the academies plan would be harmful to state schooling. I believe that choosing not to extend provision of free school meals is a mistake. I believe that a return to ‘the basics’ is a near-jurassic way to view the priorities of primary education. On this occasion however, I will defend him.

Anyone in a position of authority should be responsible, and accept that they are a role model for others. Michael Gove, being in charge of education, must be particularly angelic in his conduct. In apologising for an error he made, with sincerity whilst others jeered at him, he did something which was difficult but correct.

Tom Watson acted in a way which set a poor example. He raised his voice in order to point and jeer his insult across the Commons, in a way that a playground bully might wish to humiliate their victim in front of their peers. This is a dreadful example, and teachers would expect pupils to behave in a more respectful way from the very start of their schooling.

The speaker duly asked him to retract his comment, which he did only out of ‘deference to the speaker’. Frankly, he should have done it out of respect to the insulted individual, who deserves to be able to work without being childishly mocked. I am astounded that a man of Watson’s expertise would consider this acceptable.

A pupil in school who attempted to resolve a dispute in this way would spend a considerable time afterwards comtemplating his actions, and living with the implications of acting in such a way. Maybe we need to send a letter home to Mr Watson’s parents, or consider that he should spend his next few breaktimes reflecting on his behaviour.

With honourable restraint, Gove said that he understood Watson’s passion.

By all means, if Michael Gove’s policies are ill-advised (and I rather think they are), they should be scrutinised and deconstructed. However, if he makes a mistake and apologises for it, we should have the good grace to accept it and continue with the important task of building an ever-improving state educational system.

The next few years will be tough for all of us involved in state education, and we need to reserve our energies for constructive criticism and exemplary practice.

Lies, Damned Lies, and Michael Gove’s statistics

Monday, July 5th, 2010

So many modern Conservatives idolise Benjamin Disraeli, the nineteenth century dandy-turned-statesman, who supposedly first remarked about the ‘three kinds of lies: lies, damned lies and statistics’. I have no idea if our Minister for Education, Michael Gove, is of the Disraeli-worshipping cult, but he knows a thing or two about massaging statistics and validating Dizzy’s observation.

One of his key policies has been to urge ‘outstanding’ schools, as defined by Ofsted, to become an academy. Academies operate with more freedom from their Local Education Authority, and can be run by private groups. Although they are not currently able to do so, Michael Gove has stated that he has ‘no ideological objection’ to them making a profit as they do so.

Indeed, such has been his zeal to persuade them that each outstanding school has received a phone call from the DfE to persuade them of the benefits of doing so. But alas, a cheeky discrepancy was present which Michael Gove has used to make his ideas seem far more popular than they may be amongst headteachers.

Many headteachers, being open-minded and conscientious, will have requested information about becoming an academy simply in order to keep abreast of what the government’s plans seem to be. I daresay that some will have done this knowing that they would never intend to become an academy, but it is simply good practice to see what direction educational policy keeps taking.

However, in order to request any information about this process, you had to ‘declare an interest’ (in the government’s words), and alas, any school which simply wanted to know about the plans had effectively ‘declared an interest in becoming an academy’, and are used in Michael Gove’s statistics to indicate the popularity of his plans.

This, Mr. Gove, is cheeky. Funnily enough, educational professionals tend to be rather clever, and notice this kind of sly trick. It is not appreciated. In future, I think it would be more advisable to conduct himself with the honesty and integrity which we expect our pupils to display on a daily basis.

Has Michael Gove done his maths?

Monday, July 5th, 2010

In the months running up to the election, I was to be heard arguing that the grim possibility of Michael Gove being in charge of education was reason enough to make sure that we would not have a Conservative government.

Amidst the uncertainty following the election results, there were rumours that we would avoid this dire situation: Michael Gove himself stated that he would be willing to forego a cabinet post, and there were rumours that David Laws was all set to take charge of education. In hindsight, Laws would presumably not have lasted anyhow.

Confirmation came soon enough – and I remember being sat on a train in Kings Lynn station when I heard the news – that Michael Gove would indeed be the head honcho of educational policy for the foreseeable future. I was tempted to hold a memorial service for primary education there and then.

After all of this, I couldn’t help but feel that he started fairly well. Although I didn’t think it necessary to wholly rebrand the Department for Children, Schools and Families, at least the Department For Education is easy to remember and to-the-point.

What’s more, the General Teaching Council (GTC) didn’t seem to be doing a wonderful job as an independent regulatory body, and they were axed. Even the unions agreed that this was fair.

There was also a very brief period in which all of Michael Gove’s bizarre talk of free schools and academies seemed to have died down, and it looked as though his oddball scheme might be lost to ConDem compromise. This would have been no bad thing, but alas, like a persistent fungal infection, it has made an unpleasant return.

Conservative MPs often have a more traditional notion of education, and insist on emphasising the importance of ‘the basics’, a.k.a. ‘the three Rs’ (reading, writing and arithmetic). You’d think therefore that Michael Gove would have done the maths behind his scheming, but it seems increasingly as though he did not.

An article on the BBC website today talks of his announcement that plans to rebuild and refurbish schools are, by and large, being scrapped. In this article, it notes that the average cost of refurbishing a school is £4 million. This seems a tad hefty, until you consider the cost of building a whole new school, which is exactly what would need doing in each instance of somebody taking Gove up on his free school offer. A new school, it seems, tends to cost £25 million.

You do the maths; I’m not sure Gove bothered to.Free schools are far from free, and cutting the extension of free school lunches for poorer families will not cover this expenditure, let alone its gross unfairness.

Two big questions remain for Michael Gove and his free school plan. Firstly: Where will the money come from? Many people involved with education would argue that funding priorities lie elsewhere, and after all, government departments are supposed to be cutting back. Secondly: Why bother? There is plenty of evidence to suggest that free schools do not provide better education than our existing ones.

Mr. Gove, I await your answers.

Coming soon…

Thursday, June 17th, 2010

Nobody reads people’s personal blogs. As I often point out, the main readership of this blog consists of my mum. I don’t mind this – I write for my own amusement above all else, and if I were writing to attract an audience, I would probably have given up despairingly some time ago.

Personal blogs remain justifiably low down on most people’s “to read” list. After all, few want to hear a stranger, or even someone you know, prattle on about the minutiae of their life in a nauseatingly self-important tone. Many blogs tend to adopt this approach, and I’d probably stop writing mine were I to cast that same critical glance in its direction. (You may be vomiting at the irony as we speak).

Another reason that people find personal blogs annoying is because the writers often air their opinions on subjects about which their knowledge level ranges from “miniscule” to “non-existent”.

I shall cut to the point. Writing on www.ollyfayers.com the whole time makes me look like I’m my own biggest fan. It would be nice to write a blog which sticks to one subject about which I am (at least to some extent) an expert. I therefore intend to set up a primary education blog soon, which tracks developments in government policy about that very area.

We’ll see how it goes, but blogs which do specialise can sometimes get a small following of those who find themselves with similar professional specialities. It would be nice to put another opinion of UK primary education onto the web, even if it is not heard or listened to.

Fear not, I shan’t cease blogging about the self-important guff which I normally put up here. I don’t intend to do it less, but I do intend to create another blog elsewhere for that aforementioned topic. I’ll put the posts here as well, but they’ll look more professional in their own space.

More details to follow.

Learnt about the New Primary Curriculum? Unlearn it.

Monday, June 7th, 2010

Michael Gove has been quick to act since becoming the Secretary of State for Education. Almost immediately, the Department for Children, Schools and Families was rebranded from its friendly rainbow logo to a sterner-looking Department for Education one.

DCSF logo

DCSF logo (out with the old)

DfE logo (in with the new)

DfE logo (in with the new)

Shortly after this, Gove went on a quango extermination programme, witnessing the deaths of the General Teaching Council, Becta (a technology in education thing) and the QCDA.

GTC logo (Byebye GTC)

GTC logo (Byebye GTC)

Becta logo (So long, Becta)

Becta logo (So long, Becta)

QCDA logo (Adieu, QCDA)

QCDA logo (Adieu, QCDA)

All of which was not truly disastrous – none of this would necessarily affect teaching too much, and could be confined to restructuring in the upper echelons of state education management.

But today something more irritating happened. Let me explain something I did first – I compiled a ‘medium term plan’ based on what the children would be learning and how it ties in with the curriculum. I did this during half term. I used the ‘New Primary Curriculum’, which was released this year.

Big mistake. Having literally handed in the plan today, I’ve managed to hand in the plan on the same day of the curriculum it was based on being axed. Going to the website of the New Primary Curriculum today, I was met with this:

Ministers confirmed on 7 June 2010 that they will not proceed with the last Government’s proposed new primary curriculum, which was based on a review led by Sir Jim Rose. The new curriculum was due to be taught in schools from September 2011, but the relevant clause in the Children, Schools and Families Bill did not successfully pass through the last Parliament.

Information about the new primary curriculum has been removed from this site.

Bummer. Michael Gove has to be careful now; he’s starting to mess with what teachers are spending their time trying to do – teach. It’s hard to predict what he’ll do next. We shall see.

Trainee Teacher Diaries #14: Long time no see

Saturday, April 24th, 2010

When I started my PGCE year I intended to keep a regular diary, perhaps weekly, so that I could document what the PGCE process was like for me. My last update of Trainee Teacher Diaries was now four months ago. Unsurprisingly, a lot has happened in that time. It is testament to the hectic nature of a PGCE that my blogging has dropped off significantly in this time.

Let’s catch up. My Christmas break was dominated by the need to submit a 6000 word essay to the Faculty of Education, which I finished one day before the deadline. Unfortunately, Parkinson’s law – ‘Work expands so as to fill the time available for its completion’ – was in effect. This had me starting term a little more tired than would have been ideal.

For six weeks after the Christmas break, I was on placement in a school. My teaching duties increased steadily throughout that placement, which zoomed by, leaving me in a state of wonder at how I had managed to ascend the steep learning curve.

In the midst of the placement, I had been applying to Newly Qualified Teacher ‘pools’ in London, which would place me on a register from which the local headteachers might look at my application, think ‘Hmmm… not half bad’ and invite me to interview.

This placement went well. I was lucky enough to have a mentor with a lot of time and sound advice for me, who put a lot of effort into my development. She was a star. I built up a good rapport with the class, and it was rather tough to leave them all on the last day of placement. Everyone at the school was wonderful.

Bizarrely, the toughest challenge to overcome was working with my ‘placement partner’, who trained alongside me with the same class. Our teaching styles couldn’t have been more different, and we didn’t have a natural rapport with each other, but we plugged away and did a reasonable job.

Following this, was the beautiful respite of half term. I got a few days into this before feeling supreme guilt that I ought to be working on another 6000 word essay, the deadline of which was about a fortnight away. Over the next couple of weeks, my heels were dug in to finishing this monstrous assignment. It may be the last academic essay I ever write, and though I was pleased with it by the end, I will only find out if it meets the grade at the start of June.

Once the essay was in, we had our last block of a few weeks’ training at the Faculty. This was a damned lot easier than being in school, because there tended to be less work to bring home at the end of the day. I made the most of the opportunity to see all of the friendly faces from the course being back in one place. Once again the time zoomed by, and before we knew it, the Easter holidays were upon us, with the final placement beckoning.

As I write, I have just completed my first full week on my final placement. This one is going to be challenging. The school has had a tough time of late, and there’s a lot of politics drifting about the place. Nonetheless, the children in my class are lovely. My mentor has informed me that “if I can teach there, I can teach anywhere”. I suppose we shall have to see if I can teach there.

So, here’s how it stands. I am a few weeks from achieving my Qualified Teacher Status, if everything goes well. The end of the PGCE, now less than two months away, is in sight. It’s high-time for job applications and interviews, but my priority must be with getting through this placement. Within the next two months, it might be nice to bring news that the ‘Trainee Teacher Diaries’ will live on next year as the ‘Newly Qualified Teacher Diaries’.

Trainee Teacher Diaries #13: Even a trained monkey could do it…

Tuesday, December 22nd, 2009

In order to become a Newly Qualified Teacher (NQT) in the UK, you have to pass three skills tests. One in numeracy, one in literacy, and one in ICT. They each last a maximum of about forty minutes, and you take them at the same place where people take their driving theory tests.

I must confess that in the build up to these tests over the last few days, I had been feeling a little nervous. Not because I was expecting something which would prove too difficult, and that I would be exposed as a poor user of grammar and arithmetic. I was expecting the tests to be fairly easy. As my friend reassured me about the ICT test, ‘even a trained monkey could pass it’. Lamenting the fact that I didn’t own such a monkey, let alone one which could impersonate me and pass the test on my behalf, I realised I’d just have to do it myself.

I’ll admit, this irked me slightly. My GCSE results from all those years ago included an A* in English and an A in Maths. I naively hoped that these results might prove that I’m a tad better than a banana at spelling and whatnot. But the authorities-that-be need more proof.

So I toddled on down to the test centre earlier this afternoon. In fact, I set off about four hours ago. First up, ICT. This was the biggest challenge. The test has been designed by people who don’t appear to possess the slightest knowledge of how clever a computer is. Using a sort of fake Windows which they had designed, you have to edit documents, presentations, send emails and whatnot. I don’t have a problem on computers. I designed this blinkin’ website for christsakes. However, on their weird fake operating system, you can’t use any keyboard shortcuts. All of my zipping about between applications via ALT+TAB isn’t possible, nor is a simple CTRL+C copy. You have to do everything painfully manually. This has the effect of handicapping anyone who is proficient on a computer in a test of one’s computing abilities. Reverting back to the ancient techniques was really, really tough because all of my usual methods are practically subconscious now. Ridiculous.

Thankfully, I passed, despite the fact it doesn’t let you operate the computer more efficiently if you know how to. Anyways, next up was English, and then Numeracy. These didn’t throw any curve balls so all was well. My relief, that I hadn’t been shown up by some tests which are essentially easy, but contain banana-skins in the form of ambiguously-phrased questions and counter-intuitive fake software, was not negligible.

Maybe now I can go back to concentrating on becoming a better teacher again.

Rowan Williams’s Interesting Definition of Faith

Friday, December 18th, 2009

The fact that I am not a Christian, and that I do not believe in ‘God’, are things I have consistently put down to a lack of ‘faith’ on my part. Of course, this attribution hinges entirely on my definition of faith.

Interesting to note then, that on the first page of the main section of the Cambridge Primary Review is an extended quote from Rowan Williams which includes the phrase:

Education is training in what you can trust and what you can share… Faith and hope are at work and they’re at work in the training of reason… Faith as the capacity to trust arguments which can be shown to be trustworthy.

And alas, Rowan Williams’s idea of faith is much different to mine. In fact, my idea of faith is that it runs contrary to reason. Faith – which to me is at best an optimistic and mildly-informed belief, and (more likely) at worst, blind belief – is not something which falls under the remit of reason. Reason is about forming your arguments based on premises which are empirically provable. Unfortunately, it is far from possible to prove empirically that there is a God, and the odds of it being the God described in The Bible are incredibly long. Everything appears to contradict the biblical account of the history of the Earth, and hence why we must supposedly worship God.

Faith is an interesting idea. The whole point of faith is that it constitutes an unwavering belief in something. No matter what the evidence seems overwhelmingly to suggest, ‘faith’ can be used to ignore these arguments. No matter how obvious something is, or how provable it is by reason, you can always play the trump card named faith.

Faith can eclipse reason. The two are different outlooks. It is slightly deceptive to suggest, I think, that faith is an essential part in training oneself to reason. It is not surprising to hear, as one would expect a high-up member of the church to defend the notion of faith, but to link it to reason in this manner is to clutch at straws to which faith is not entitled.

Of course, it is nonetheless massively important for children to learn about faith. It plays a key role in society. We just have to be very careful about how we present the idea. Children would need to be aware of both the Williams-esque perspective on faith, and opposing perspectives which are also held by many people.

Michael Rosen: Crusading to end the hateful reign of SATs

Thursday, October 29th, 2009

Michael Rosen is a legend of unimaginable legendary status. He would have achieved this if all he had done was to write We’re Going On a Bear Hunt, which happens to be one of the best picture books of all time. But the nation’s favourite googly-eyed children’s author has performed many more acts of admirable splendifidousness besides penning said book. In the Faculty of Education library yesterday, I was on my way to search the catalogue of books when his beaming face shined up at me from the front of the NUT’s magazine.

In this edition, he elaborated on his distaste for the SATs, something which he has done in the Guardian on a previous occasion. Instead, he would prefer to concentrate educational efforts on endearing our nation’s children to the wealth of tremendous literature around them. Yet, what the government would rather us do is to induce anxiety in our youngsters from an early age by subjecting them to a barrage of worksheets.

Rosen is just another example of what wonderful things might be achieved if only education was left to people who really know about it, rather than the detached suits at Whitehall who use Google to decide on their next policy for schooling. All is far from lost though, I definitely sense that there is a rising resentment for governmental imposition of ill-thought out policies which mis-interpret the findings produced by those in educational research. In the next two decades, I would expect to see the education professionals seizing back the initiative. Watch them. Me included, hopefully.