DfE – the F is for ‘Frankness’

Although beforehand none of us really knew what we were going to talk about, one thing was clear; we were all going to exploit this opportunity to speak our minds. Not in a mad old rant sort of way but through civilised and respectful conversation. (I think we mostly managed it)

We were an odd collective bunch of educationalists but we all shared thoughts and ideas about the old system, the incoming one and what we thought could improve our world of education.

I think all parties were honest in their comments – including the DfE. It wasn’t a case of them necessarily defending their ideas, frameworks and policies against a barrage of criticisms: more a case of them listening to the ‘real world’ implications of what they had put in place.

The curriculum

Although this got a rather favourable review from the people around the table, below are some key points made that challenged it (forgive me if I don’t attribute each point to who made it – although if I start talking in metaphors you can be pretty sure that it came from one half of @thought_weavers)

Broad and Balanced – well it is and it isn’t. The increase in expectations within reading, writing and maths coupled with the ‘stripping’ away of certain broader and balanced elements may, could, just might, result in some schools in challenging circumstances not feeling able to do the ‘it’s not in there but it’s implied you should cover it but we won’t be checking’ elements of it. The pressure to do ‘well’ in the tested bits could mean that these areas are overdone and the balance becomes distorted.

The counterpoint is that if you don’t ‘perform’ well in these tested areas you are in fact letting the children down more so than by not committing to the full curriculum. If children can’t read, write or calculate effectively how are they able to cope at secondary school? If making children ‘secondary ready’ is the hidden agenda behind primary schooling shouldn’t we focus on that bit if that is the bit that required improvement? The counter-counterpoint however is, in my opinion, starker; how is a child secondary ready if they have not received a fully rounded education that has included citizenship and has allowed them to persevere in all manner of disciplines not just literacy and numeracy? I’m sure there is yet another counter-counter-counterpoint to that argument but I’ll move on.

Support – Although much of the curriculum hasn’t really, really changed an awful lot there are some areas that have. I’m thinking computing and the content of the history curriculum. There was a general sense around the room that we had been left a little high and dry in how to skill up staff so they can deliver this effectively. We may be pleased that there are no prescriptive QCA schemes of work and that schools have freedoms to tailor much of the curriculum to their own tastes but where do we start and more worryingly…what if we get it wrong? What if we interpret differently to (whisper it) the ofsted team that come in to inspect our curriculum? There has been no support or guidance for schools to get the curriculum working for their schools.

Elizabeth Truss MP was concerned that ‘teaching schools’ hadn’t been involved in this process of offering support to local schools. We pitched in saying they either hadn’t offered it, the local authority hadn’t brokered any support packages, the teaching schools themselves did not have the capacity to support everyone else. One teaching school represented at the meeting made the point that they too needed to trial it in the first year before being able to support others which seems fair. All of these points seemed at odds with Truss’s perception of how teaching schools were supporting other schools.

At this point it was nearly impossible to discuss the curriculum without straying into our other topic for the day which was assessments.

Assessment

The disappearance of levels – Caroline (because it was her idea remember) was asked very bluntly why levels had been taken away and no other system had been introduced. She gave an answer. I can’t quite remember what it was. I seem to remember thinking if the aim was to make it more transparent to parents then I think you’ve failed as I haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about. (But then again, I was onto my third cookie by then and the sugar was starting to distort my senses)

Many people in the room seemed to be of the opinion that many schools were leaving levels alone until they had sorted out the curriculum. Caroline made an interesting point that levels, although not the preferred method of assessment, were not banned. I thought this sounded like pokemon cards at school: if they stay in your drawer and you only use them when I can’t see then that’s fine but don’t let me catch you playing with them in class or you’re in trouble.

Caroline did say that levels are gone because they are too crude an assessment. The children are put into boxes and it is difficult for teachers to move them to a different box. There needs to be a more gradual, well rounded, all-encompassing and detailed picture of assessment. But then she started talking about a standardised score that children would get at the end of Reception that would relate to a standardised score children would get at the end of KS2 and this would be the indicator of progress. Well, isn’t that just a bit like levels and APS? Don’t we expect children who are at this level at KS1 to be at this level at KS2 based on expected rate of progress? If you’re going to have a scale that you are going to use to track my Reception pupils all the way to Year 6 – why not tell me what it is and what it looks like in all other year groups because then I can make sure we’re judging my pupils’ achievement in the same way. Making me invent my own system feels really dangerous and makes me feel quite vulnerable. Just a thought.

Testing – This took up a lot of the discussion. The concept that testing to get a score was at odds with a holistic system of assessing children that went against trusting teachers’ judgements seemed to be an alien one to the folks at DfE. And I can see why. You do need, at some stage, a baseline check to see how everyone is doing compared to everyone else. It’s an easy way to get a collective score for a school. It was pointed out how much testing actually helps the child as opposed to helps the schools to be judged by those who are doing the judging.

We were asked what would our way be? I wasn’t the only one to suggest some kind of pupil portfolio where bodies of work were sent in. From my own perspective, I like this as one of the most frustrating conversations I have with teachers is during ‘assessment week’ where teachers will say things like: ‘I’ve got evidence in his book that he’s a 3B and I know in class, on a really good day he can write at a 3B….but on the test he might not, so, I’m going 3C.’ Now, I know why teachers do this, they don’t want to be ‘caught out’ on test day only for me to say ‘What were you thinking? 3B indeed!’  I don’t want unrealistic teacher judgements that are not representative of a child’s ability (either too high or too low) but I trust my teachers more than a test and I have moderating systems that allow me to do this confidently. That is why a national system that puts more faith in a pupil’s real achievement over time would be more valuable than one that sticks rigidly to a 45 minute test paper.

Ofsted – not on the agenda but how can you get people involved in education in a closed room for 90 minutes and not mention the beast in the room? No one criticised the purpose of ofsted but we had a few things to say and a few pointers. (Not that the DfE can do anything about ofsted)

  • Why not go back to longer inspections so ofsted can see the whole school for real.
  • A commitment that ofsted want to see a broad and balanced curriculum in every school.
  • Better links with what the DfE sends out and what Ofsted comes in to see.

I shan’t say no more about Ofsted because it wasn’t why we were there. But also, I can’t remember anything else particularly so I’ll leave it there anyway. You can read part three now you lucky bugger.

DfE – the D is for the ‘Day’

 

Ooh I was terribly excited. Being invited to the DfE to discuss…well something educational I guess. I didn’t really know anything about it. Who was going? Why had I been invited? What was the purpose? What on earth could I contribute? Would lunch be provided?

 

The night before I got a DM from Tim Taylor saying that some of the other invited Twitter folks were meeting up in a pub beforehand and would I like to join. Would I? You bet – this was starting to sound like a right old jolly. In the morning I made my sandwiches and went to the train station, picked up my tickets (69 quid that I was told I could claim on DfE expenses – this is the bloody life I thought) and soon I was sat on the train zooming to London.

 

On the way, I thought I should probably brush up on the National Curriculum, so I read that for a bit. Then I got bored and ate my sandwiches. Pulling into Paddington I skipped to the underground and got to Westminster. By this time I was running very late to meet the gang in the pub but I googled the address anyway. I arrived just in time to shake hands with @imagineinquiry, @cherrylkd, @debrakidd and @educationbear; grab a soda and lime (75p…come on London, behave!) before I was back out the door walking towards Sanctuary Buildings.

 

Upon arrival we were ushered in to the DfE waiting lounge, where @emmaannhardy and @heymisssmith were also waiting. Luckily it seemed that none of us had any clue what this meeting with the DfE minister and policy men was about and when @thought_weavers completed our group and also said they weren’t sure what to expect we were badged up, crammed into a lift and were soon sitting around a table. There was no lunch but there was a tray of cookies. I positioned myself next to those and thought, well if nothing else, I’ll probably eat more cookies than anyone else so it won’t be a day completely wasted.

 

From the DfE we were met by Vince Jacob (and later) Jim Magee who as far as we were concerned actually wrote the national curriculum word for word (they seemed quite intent on confirming and then denying this in equal measure…I think they did). There was also Caroline Barker who was solely (well as far as we were concerned) responsible for the abolishment of levels. We chatted about implementing the new curriculum, assessing without levels, our own thoughts and experiences of educating in the current climate. Then, in a whirlwind of mobiles and whispering assistants Elizabeth Truss MP joined, left and came back again. While she was there we repeated stuff that we’d already said, explained what differentiation was, I very nearly got her to answer a very important question that I had come up with but she had to leave to go and vote on something. I tried to get her assistant to vote for her but, as you would expect from a committed MP, she did her duty – albeit by promptly leaving the meeting she had presumably set up in the first place.

 

When she came back from her vote – a distraction to the group that I used to my advantage by swiping another biscuit – it was getting near my return train time. So it was my turn to say that I was very sorry but I had to leave and go and vote on something back in Bristol. She can’t have heard otherwise I’m sure she would have laughed. I flew out of DfE – oh thanks to Cait Mellow, who I think had been the person who set it up as she is in charge of the DfE social media team leader, and pointed me in the direction of the nearest Tube. I missed my train as it turned out. I couldn’t get on the actual next train because that was a ‘peak time’ train and my ticket was not valid. I asked if I could pay the difference and was told that to pay the difference between my original ticket and a peak time ticket would cost £128 but if I bought a new peak time ticket it would cost me £96. I failed to see how this was mathematically possible but I really wanted to go home. Two things popped into my head at that moment: the first was I hoped that the DfE expenses claim form would cover this unexpected additional cost to my day out and secondly, I thought maybe the incredibly prescribed maths curriculum wouldn’t be a bad idea and could someone give a copy to the ministry of transport.

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Keep calm and carry on.

It’s only a game so put up a real big fight.

Big Break theme tune. circa (probably 90s when Saturday entertainment was at its lowest – then again I watched ‘Take Me Out’ last night and nearly wept myself into a dry husk)

The world of education spins at a relentless pace. Being inside the world of education can occasionally feel like you’re in a washing machine that is refusing to stop: swirling around getting bashed about and tangled up with whatever washload of edubabble that has been put in the drum with you; outside beyond the glass it all looks lovely and calm but before you can see what they’re actually doing out there you’re whisked away again as Gove’s trouser leg tightens its grip around your neck.

Why are we moving so fast and why is it all so complicated? Sometimes I blame Twitter. There are days when I can’t get through a single swipe on my Twitter timeline without reading countless contradictory opinions and analysis on effective teaching methods or government initiatives. Normally I would say that this is a positive thing: free speech, the ability to argue, the opportunity to reflect. But occasionally it all seems a bit much and my poor little noggin gets confused. (This probably explains why I’ve started following @FacesPics – nothing eases my confused mind better than occasionally looking at inanimate objects that look like they’re frowning.)

The problem with Twitter being such a rich source of information and opinion is that it constantly reminds me of the million things I’m not doing or simply don’t know about: I don’t know what ‘dichotomy of teaching’ actually means! I also couldn’t honestly tell you what teaching style I prefer…I don’t think I have one: one that works? Or is that too vague?

Don’t get me wrong, I love reading everything that people put out there and it makes me think but therein lies the danger. It often makes me want to try EVERYTHING! My deputy and I had to make an agreement at the start of this year or rather I had to make a promise: any fabulous idea that I had stumbled upon I had to keep to myself. This was because our morning conversations often went like this:

Deputy: Morning, how are you?

Me: Oh fine, fine. You?

Deputy: I’m fine. So today I’m meeting with the support staff to go through how to use numicon.

Me: That’s great. I read this blog last night and I think we should be teaching maths through role play!

It just wasn’t helpful anymore. So now I still read Twitter and blogs but when my head starts swimming with ideas I close my eyes, say my safe word and find a picture of a stapler that looks like it’s laughing. And everything is OK.

Now to the game. This is a cliché isn’t it: it’s all a game. Lesson observations are a game, ofsted is a game, learning objectives are a game, PE is a-well that sort of is a game isn’t it. I don’t know why we label everything that we feel we have to do as being a game. By doing so what are we actually saying? Are we saying that we don’t value a process but are doing it anyway? If so aren’t we then removing ourselves from any accountability? (I did it, I didn’t do it well because I didn’t believe in it and therefore it hasn’t worked but that’s not my fault because if you remember I did say at the beginning that it was just a game?) Or are we becoming conditioned to feeling like we do not own our profession anymore but we lumber on because somewhere we can remember why we chose this profession in the first place.

A week doesn’t seem to go by when a new rule isn’t added to this game. Many schools are pressured/advised into doing things in a particular way or focussing on a specific element of teaching in order to show progress: mark like this, write learning objectives like this, differentiate this way, structure lessons like that, challenge pupils by doing this not that. Many of the ideas will be perfectly valid and if it genuinely helps why not but this isn’t the game is it? The game has now become the evidencing of it all. The evidence that we are required to show in order to prove that we did it…the proof, it seems, is no longer in the pudding.

For example: a senior leader and I were discussing a work scrutiny focussed on differentiation and marking. We couldn’t see clear differentiation three ways. We talked about it and started to focus on what this teacher needed to do – and then we stopped. What were we suggesting? Were we suggesting what the teacher had to do in order to meet the needs of the pupils or what the teacher needed to do so that we could see ‘differentiation’ when flicking through the books? If it was the latter than sadly, we would be playing the bloody game. And what would be the real point in that? I spoke to the teacher a couple of days later and I can honestly say that they know each and every pupil like the back of their hand and they know exactly what they need to do in order to get there. I think that is good enough for me. As I said earlier…I think I like whatever works.

I think it is time to pause the spin cycle. Ignore populist and current ideas. Put to bed systems that only demonstrate what management did during non-contact time. We must be brave and focus on what we know our pupils need; not what we are told makes a generic good school. If we do focus on what our pupils need and work hard to make sure they get it, how can we fail in becoming a good school? Then hopefully, others around us will see the value in what we’re asking them to do and will support us in doing it consistently every day. Maybe more importantly,  they won’t fear or be suspicious of our methods or involvement in their teaching.

Education: it is not a game but it is worth fighting for.