Goodbye Mr Chips, Hello Mr Squeers.

One of my largest gripes with the current government’s handling of primary education was the snatching away of (then) current frameworks and curriculum guidance with no replacement in sight for years. I know, I know! As a Head Teacher I could have quite easily mapped out a whole school framework for English & Maths based on a set of principles laid down in the renewed (old) framework for Literacy & Maths.  However that would mean messing around Google looking for the archive files, Gove’s online lair for banned practical and useful resources, like Indiana Jones’s less brave nephew.

But it wasn’t just the new (old) Literacy & Maths framework that had gone: the whole ruddy renewed (old) national curriculum had gone! The good one, which Rose had contributed to – that was almost but not totally the same as the current (old, old) national curriculum but with a bit more skills and the long sentences split into smaller ones. I know, I know! I could have bought into a corporate curriculum that ‘guaranteed’ to be in line with current government legislation and also ‘promised’ to be fun. (You could tell it was fun because one of the topics was called ‘Chocolate’. )

No it was far easier for me to sit back and wait for the new National Curriculum. And wait I did.  After a lot of waiting I could only think that this new curriculum was going to be amazing! I mean they were not doing a rushed job; they were really taking their time. And I waited, and waited and carried on waiting, even when the rumours starting flying around that it was just going to be about knowledge and content. ‘No!’ I said, standing on my chair batting older, more grumpy heads on the nose with a rolled up copy of Gove’s Bible, ‘Our Government are not taking this long to craft a national curriculum based on lists of stuff children should know and they are definitely not taking this long because they’ve nicked it from an American approach to education and they have to go through all 6000 pages changing ‘Math’ to ‘Maths’.  

So I carried on waiting until the day finally came and the proposed national curriculum arrived. I missed it actually, but luckily quite a few people were tweeting it about so I got me a copy. It’s getting a bit of flak but I think there are some good bits in it. Most commentators however are tooling up and blog-bashing Gove over the wider curriculum elements and History in particular is getting firmly happy-slapped.

Granted, it does appear to be rather long lists of historical facts that are to be learnt and this does beg the question did Mr Gove get his ideas on effective education from Mr Squeers in Nicholas Nickleby? ‘When the boy knows this out of book, he goes and does it. That’s our system.’ But, I personally don’t mind the scope of historical study outlined in the document but then again, I like history. Actually, I’ll rephrase that: I like knowing about stuff that happened in the past.

My biggest problem (about me not the curriculum) is that while I enjoy each episode of ‘Simon Schama’s A History of Britain’ I cannot retain a single sustained fact about any of Schama’s lessons six weeks afterwards. My biggest problem (about the curriculum, not me) is that it is in danger of producing a system of education that will not enable any child to retain a single sustained fact about any teacher’s lesson six weeks afterwards.

Effective education…really effective education, in my mind, is about: acquiring knowledge through the application of skills.  Just giving away knowledge isn’t good enough. The joy of primary school education is teaching children facts by equipping them with skills and this can only be done through a broad and balanced curriculum that allows teachers to combine subject skills to create well-crafted topics. Topics that inspire, allow children to think critically about the information they receive and allow them to actively engage in finding out about the world around them. Only then will you get passionate learners who are then ready to consume knowledge at a more advanced level. As much as Gove wants, children are not going to leave Key Stage 2 with a complete knowledge (let alone understanding) of the British Isles based upon his mighty list alone.

I am sure that Gove is not expecting teachers to just churn out facts and get children to memorise Kings and Queens but his draft history curriculum does seems disproportionately weighted towards understanding historical events through knowing FACTS. The fact that you can get children to learn about historical events, personalities, bias, politics, and culture through, say, art seems to be lost.

This, as I see it is the biggest disappointment of the national curriculum: it’s just a list that he want children to know. At least the old (old, old) national curriculum had the dignity to suggest some interesting schemes of work that linked with other subjects. (Yes, I know they got a bit over-subscribed to but they were a start) Gove apparently has neither the time nor the inclination to attempt something as complex as joined up thinking across the subjects. The idea that some subject’s skills lend themselves well to learning about other subject’s content is less important it seems than promoting selfish, single minded subjects.  The idea that education is about developing true intelligence and nurturing talent is less important than being able to test an individual’s penchant for fact regurgitation at the end of each year.

This expectation for mass content knowledge coupled with a lack of thought on curriculum skills may, I fear, mean that topics as I know and love them will disappear. Lessons will be dis-jointed. Children will learn isolated facts. The concept of cross-referencing skills over a series of subjects linked by one over-arching topic will be lost. Pupils will be judged on memory. Our nation will become a nation of pub quiz bores. Sadly the battle between producing ‘historians’ or ‘Statisticians’ will have been won and the interested, well-rounded and skilled citizens of the future will lie dead, underneath a car park full of cars parked by knowledgeable but ultimately useless eggheads.  

Ofsted the Destroyer! Ofsted the Bar-Raiser! Ofsted the Compassionate! Ofsted the Terrible! The Whole Damn Ofsted Dynasty!

There have been many different incarnations of the school’s inspection service in recent times, each one repeating the mantra that they are trying to raise the standards of education across the country but each one taking on the persona of a twisted member of your family.

An early framework resembled an inevitable visit from your weird distant Aunty at Christmas. They gave you weeks and weeks to get ready and then stayed with you longer than necessary leaving you a gibbering wreck at the end of their stay and unable to work out what life was like before they had crashed into your world.

Then they changed and decided to only give you a week’s notice whereupon they would turn up like a drunken Uncle: eating your staff room out of cake and biscuits and upsetting everyone in a staggeringly brief amount of time before pissing off to the next relative he hates.

Then Ofsted turned into your Mum who after her divorce had decided to read too many self-help books. This Ofsted preferred to listen and get you to come up with all the answers whereupon they would either nod and agree or look at you with a raised eyebrow until you said something else that they did agree with.

And then Ofsted became your scary psychopathic younger cousin: You would open the door to your office to find them sitting in your chair asking you how they had managed to get in. Unable to answer (because they had actually climbed through your window using a diamond cutter in the middle of the night), they would laugh manically and order you off the premises.

This current incarnation is like your strict Grandfather who insists on making you stronger through unfairness. ‘Whatcha wanna use oven gloves for boy? Use your bare hands, toughen that skin up.’ ‘Milk teeth is for girls and fairies, pull ‘em out boy’ ‘No Grandson of mine is gonna be satisfactory, you’re either good….or good for nothing.’

And like that Ofsted has decided that teachers and schools were getting it too easy with ‘satisfactory’. Too many staff rooms were full of smirking teachers revelling in their satisfactory-ness, willingly not being good, the lazy bastards! I mean those of you that have ever been told a lesson you did was satisfactory that will know ‘being satisfactory’ is only a slightly less soul destroying experience than having your entire friends and family look at your naked body and mark in red pen the bits that are repellent to all and sundry. It is not something anyone in education aspires to be.

Secretly I kind of don’t mind the ‘requires improvement’ judgement. It has in it the opportunity for constructive action and by not having statements that link with a satisfactory judgement it shows that it could be a bespoke set of prompts for the individual to zone in on. But Gove and Wilshaw don’t seem willing to present it that way; instead they favour the ‘stop moaning and get on with it’ approach. ‘If you’re crap get better or get out.’ ‘If you’re ok, you’re still quite close to crap so get on with it.’ ‘If you’re good, you’re only one step away from awful so get on with it.’ ‘You’re outstanding? Oh, would you like to be an academy?’ It’s almost as if they want to scare and demoralise teachers but surely they wouldn’t have got the job if that was the case?

So when I stop being @theprimaryhead and become @theofstedinspector what member of your family would I represent? I would be like your new foster parent. I am genuinely interested in recognising how good you are and in finding out how you would like to get better. I would let you know I was coming and I would meet you before I visited for a good old chat: and together we would devise a timetable. Obviously, there are some ground rules: I’ve got to check the quality of planning, teaching, marking and assessing and check the children and parents are happy…but you know that. Then I would come and stay for a week, maybe two. I wouldn’t leave until I felt I had a really good grasp of your school and where you were taking it. Then I would leave but not without agreeing on a return date so I could check on how you’re doing. If I gave you a ‘requires improvement’ judgement I would make sure I supported you in working out how to improve effectively. Why? Because you’re part of my family now and I care.

Trying to get a job in teaching? Top tips for your application.

I once spent a happy three hours shortlisting over 160 applications for a single fixed term teaching position. During which we read many appalling examples from experienced and nqts alike, a few ‘zany’ letters from people hoping to stand out and the inevitable letters addressed to the wrong headteacher…a victim of mass job application writing and forgetting to check which one you were putting in the envelope.

Here are a few tips that I would like to pass on.

1. Small things matter.

If you get my name wrong, the name of my school wrong I will not read it. If your printer was on the blink and some of the words are wonky, or your side margins were so wide  that the printer has sliced off the last letter of each line I will not read it. If it is hand written or the paper has been hand cut to A4 size or if each page is a slightly different colour then again, I will not read it. I may laugh and it may cheer me up for five seconds but I will not seriously consider
you for the job.  Someone once said to me ‘That’s pathetic! They could be the perfect candidate!’ Sorry, you are not the perfect candidate…if you can’t be bothered to present your letter or cv properly in order to get a foot through the door, will you bother to plan lessons properly, put up quality displays, safeguard effectively? Maybe, but I won’t take that risk thanks, especially as the 159 applicants took time to make their first impression a good one.

2. Personalise but don’t go too far.

I know you want to stand out and that you want to wow me but I just want to read a letter. I don’t care that much about pictures of you in action! Oh but if you do insist on including pics of you and some children you have taught don’t put black bars over their eyes or blur their faces out to protect their anonymity. It just makes the photos look, well, a bit creepy. Don’t mess about too much with the format either. One applicant wrote their letter in the style of a newspaper’s front page. To be fair it looked fantastic but they had written it in the third person and in the past tense as if they had been appointed: ‘All the children she had met during the interview were thrilled to find out she had got the job.’ Honestly…that’s what they wrote. To be fair I put their application in my ‘wild card’ pile  for sheer brass but after a while it annoyed me too much.

3. Impact

Not pizzazz….impact. You’re a teacher, I’m a head. All I really care about when it comes down to it is can you teach really well. If I put you in charge of a class will they make great progress. Feel free to tell me about your brilliant behaviour strategies, how you engage children with reading by dressing up as a character, how you work well with other staff members and parents, how you run a great art club and how you think it’s really important to plan topics around their interests and you have great interactive displays in your class. BUT DON’T BOTHER TALKING ABOUT ANY OF THAT UNLESS AFTERWARDS YOU EXPLAIN WHAT DIFFERENCE IT MADE. I want to know about progress, talk to me about % of children on track and above before and after their time with you, and relate it to all the stuff you put in place. I can’t tell you how many letters I read that are full of great ideas but they move onto their next paragraph before saying what difference it made to the children’s attainment, achievement or progress. Impact, impact, impact! Even NQTs…I know you may be inexperienced but I bet you had some impact on that final placement so tell me about it.

4. Write to ME!

lt is good to visit the school but not essential. But research the school a bit because it has strengths and needs that are different to any other school and if you know about them you just might be able to work them to your advantage. Don’t be silly… don’t pretend to Know the school better than me or my school improvement officer but talk about the bits and pieces that are of real interest to you: do this well and you might just sound like a real human and grab my interest as it will stand out from the automated drones who are competing with you.

That’s it. Follow those simple rules and you can’t fail.

Happy applying.