ambition vrs apathy

Its sad I know, but I live in a part of the world where, for a large part of the population, ambition and a desire to succeed is viewed with suspicion and derision.

I just had a young man come to me looking for extra revision materials for his GCSEs. Nothing untoward about that. I actually had a booklet of such material made up already for a girl the year below him. What struck me was the manner in which he asked for it.

I was in my classroom catching up on some marking after school. A shadow passed my door – then paused – then passed again. Eventually a face peered in, looked in each corner of the room, as if checking that it was completely empty. Quietly he opened the door and backed into the room checking the corridor as he went, and closed the door behind him before approaching the desk in a decidedly embarrassed fashion.

“Sir, sir, um, sir. I was wondering if you had anything I could use to revise for this exam.”

“For this exam?”

“The GCSE exam.”

“Paper 1 or 2?”

“Um, both.”

“Actually I think I may just have. Hold on till I check if I have an extra copy.”

I started to root around in my drawer for the sheaves of paper. He looked panicked and slammed a USB pen drive on my desk, shutting the drawer with his thigh as he did so.

“I was thinking you could copy the files onto this – you know – to save you any hassle.”

“Not a problem, give me a sec and I’ll do it now.”

Again the panic. He was looking at the door as much as he was looking at me now. It was obvious he didn’t want to be seen.

“I was thinking I could maybe pick them up in a bit. You’ll still be here in half an hour?”

And with that he was gone. And I was left holding a memory pen wondering what on earth had just happened.

It was simple of course. The young man, who incidentally had spent most of the three weeks I’d been teaching him with his feet on the desk pretending to sleep, wanted to pass his exam – but he didn’t want anyone to know that it mattered to him. I honestly believe that, if he’d been discovered in his English room, he would have come up with some excuse before disappearing and gone into the exam revision-material-less. His image was more important to him than his exams. Hopefully I won’t sound overly dramatic when I say that his image was more important to him than his future.

It’s a real problem here. Working in secondary schools I see it all the time – and it’s not easy to break through. Maybe it’s different in the grammar school sector with their super ambitious career students - but try getting any of the pupils here to admit that they like school or specific subjects is very difficult – getting them to admit that they want to be good at something like English is almost impossible.

The problem is they do want to be good at it. They do want to pass. They want to pass with the greatest marks ever achieved in the history of GCSEs. There is real tragedy then in the way their pride engages their logic in an horrific battle to the death; their relationship with success like the doomed potential love affair between two passing strangers in a William Trevor short story.

That student came and picked up his memory pen. When he’s gone through the notes he’ll understand what is expected of him better than he did before he read it – but whether it will be enough to make up for two years of self imposed apathy is doubtful. It may well be too late for him.

As for me – well I start doing what I can for people like the girl in the year below him. It pains me that I can’t effortlessly inspire every one of the little people - o captain! my captain! But I can’t. And I have to keep telling myself that three weeks is never going to be enough time to perform miracles. Tiny steps great journeys make... Or something like that.
Next year that girl will be sitting those exams and hopefully she, and those around her, will take more pride in their successes than their indifference. We can but hope and pray.

one of the joys of a rural school

The school car park during the exams -- in my day a battered up 1979 chevette was enough to get you respect. Now it seems nothing more than tractor will do.

But what confuses me is the New Holland with the silage trailer on the back. Did they take a break to pop in and do a quick GCSE or two before getting back to carting silage? Surely they wouldn't have time...

what next?

As I type this around 15,000 primary school pupils are sitting the final paper of the last leven plus exams in Northern Ireland. The test that will determine which secondary school they attend. Despite the fact that most of the rest of Britain scrapped this form of selection over a decade ago we have held on firmly and proud. And now we let go.

I should be happy. I hate that sham of an exam; that overblown IQ test. Some will suggest that it is a fair system, a mertitocracy of sorts. Poor and rich are assessed on equal ground. 'Life is a series of tests' they will tell you, 'the quicker people learn to deal with stress rather than avoid it the better.'
I, myself, have managed to avoid stress most of my working life (mainly by avoiding working maybe) and I hate the idea of the eleven plus. Who wants to be branded a failure before they even reach their teens? And meritocracy? How does that explain the huge class imbalance we have in our schools?

So I should be happy - but I'm not. At time of going to press our Assembly, the people we intrusted with running our wee country, have yet to agree on what should replace the 11+. I have yet to decide what I think should replace the 11+. Parents of year 6 pupils, who have no idea what their children will be facing in twelve short months time, are asking teachers for answers - we don't have any.

While there is no official plan in place for a replacement a dangerous vacuum has been created. Schools are taking it into their own hands to create selection processes. I find that faintly terrifying. The school where I currently work have decided, along with 29 other Grammars, to form their own 'Association of Quality Education.' This association will produce their own assessment papers. Let's face it - they're creating their very own eleven plus.

Meantime all those 10 year old year 6 kids are being batted around in a game of politics. Their uncertainities are being used as canon fodder with which the DUP and Sinn Fein are battering each other. And that can only be viewed as wrong on so many levels.

education could damage your health

Week #2, school #2; and I have an admission to make. This subbing lark should come with a health warning: May seriously damage your moral high ground.

Anyone who knows me would be able to tell you my views of the Grammar school system and academic selection. Northern Ireland is the only part of the UK that still holds onto academic selection for entry into secondary schools and it is holding onto it fiercely. I, just in case you don’t already know, am fiercely opposed to a two tier education system (or indeed the three or four tier system we actually have)
It is an opinion that has brought me into verbal conflict with several members of my family and my closest friends, all of whom benefited from a Grammar school education. I, myself, benefited from a Grammar school education – the difference being that I have worked most of my adult life with children who didn’t pass the test at eleven and are thus not benefiting from a Grammar school education. I see what the great divide does to them. I have witnessed the sense of resignation they have that they aren’t ‘meant’ to be academic so they’ll not bother. I’ve worked on breaking down barriers that a sense of failure (aged eleven) builds. And it’s just not right.

The Grammars in Northern Ireland wield a lot of power. The Government love them because they allow us to produce the best exam results in the UK year after year. And how do they achieve such fantastic results? Well, using academic selection they pick out the pupils with the highest IQs; the academic cream if you like. Unsurprisingly these pupils perform well in national tests (relatively speaking) which gain the schools good reputations. These good reputations make them extremely attractive for business and community support (everyone loves a winner) so they see all kinds of funding opportunities opening up. They can plough this money into improving the infrastructure and resources of the school, which in turn improves their standing in exam league tables and leads to a higher percentage of post 16 students, who attract the largest amount of governmental and commercial funding. And so the cycle continues.

I’m not suggesting that Grammar schools are wallowing in cash. The way state education funding is at present no schools are finding it easy to balance books. It just seems to me that Grammar schools are better equipped for this hardship and seem to find it easier to produce money than non selective schools when push comes to shove. Just look at the beautiful gardens and perfectly manicured playing fields on which Grammar schools play their Rugger and Cricket. Compare those to the council owned dog walking parks that the high school next door use.

Grammar schools produce results; of that there is no doubt. If I hadn’t gone to a Grammar I doubt very much that I would have gone to university – I have no idea what I would’ve done but I wasn’t the kind of pupil who could motivate themselves against the odds. I would have blended in and faded out of education. I certainly wouldn’t be a teacher.
Back when I was eleven I did the test that was to determine whether at thirty one I would be sitting typing up a blog in a classroom after teaching a year 12 poetry lesson or… well I just don’t know.

I’ll be honest. The reason I fixate on this issue is because in my mind I shouldn’t have passed that test. I failed every one of the practices in the build up . Somehow I squeezed through and onto the road to Grammar school. To this day I don’t know how. In quiet moments I find my mind wander into ‘Sliding Doors’ territory and I find myself imaging what my life would be like had I dropped a couple more points in that test. I know it’s pointless; I believe that things happen for a reason, that I was guided up the path I was meant to take – but I can’t help wondering. And then I start wondering about the pupils I teach. What would happen to them if they’d done just a little better or worse when they were eleven.

I believe that schools selecting their pupils on the basis of IQ is wrong; I believe that eleven is far too young to map out someone’s educational career; and I believe labelling pupils as either academic or non-academic is just plain immoral.

After all of that please don’t think less of me because I am writing this entry from a classroom of a Grammar school. Just because I am in a position where I have to take what work is offered doesn’t dilute my opinions. I’ll teach their pupils, I’ll take the pay cheque but they can’t make me like it.

out of ten

I love marking exam papers – I really do. Sure it takes up far too much of my life at this time of year, and sleepless nights really start to hurt when you get to my age,

But

If I were to give a single reason right now, if you were to ask why I am teacher, if you pressure me and hold my arm tight behind my back right this instant, if you beg me to give you just one single explanation… I would say that the reason I teach is to be able to read some of the incredible things pupils write when they don’t know the answer to an exam question.

The best examples are the ones where the pupil has a genuine guess. Ironically when a someone is trying to be funny in an exam they rarely are. The genuine shots in the dark are the comedy gems that make me a rich man.

As a history teacher I used to love reading all the amazing reasons why the Germans lost the first world war. I also loved it when they got their bands mixed up and explained that Kasabian started the war by being shot. Ah, the best war comedy since Dad’s Army.

This year I am an English teacher. An English teacher with a range of names it seems. On the front of the papers I was called everything from Mr Cambelle, to Camble, to Cambpell, to Cambell, to Cabell, to Miss Scott (I have to have a quiet word with that particular pupil)

In the year eight writing task they were required to write a letter to a friend relating their first year at the school to a friend. I always think tasks like this are risky – you’re leaving yourself open to a world of criticism if you ask a pupil to express opinions about the school. Some of them don’t even mean half the scorn they spew.

Still, it also leads to much amusement. Most of which I can’t relate here without leaving myself at the mercy of libel laws. I can share a few of the comments pupils made about me in their essays:

I like all my teachers, specially Mr Cambelle. He is funny sometimes but you need to get him in a funny mood.

My English teacher is Mr Campbell. He’s funny but sometimes cross. He’s REALLY tall.

Mr Campbell is way bigger than me.

Some of the rest were less complimentary – did they not think I’d be reading them. It’s really given me an insight into how the average twelve year old sees me. I had no idea I had such mood swings, I had no idea I was seen as some sort of giant and I had no idea that I was being funny – I gotta work on that one.

student politics

Our year 12s have started a petition to be allowed to go on study leave early. The head boy just brought it round to get me to sign it half an hour ago.

I was a bit confused - I don't even teach the year 12s so why they felt my signature would lend any weight is beyond me. I looked down through the list of names and comments and I realised that there were quite a lot of teachers who were more than happy to wave good bye to their GCSE classes, including the head of year who seems to have given the whole thing his blessing.

I, as is the mode, am in two minds. I don't trust kids enough to work on their own at home in the build up to big examinations. This cynicism comes from my own experience. I did practically nothing to prepare for my own GCSEs and when it came to A-levels I did nothing. In fact during my A-levels I was out every night.

Maybe it's unfair to tar this present crop with my brush; but I just can't see how sending them off early is going to improve their chances.

Having said that I am impressed with their initiative. Getting the whole thing sanctioned by their head of year was a stroke of genius - it lends gravity and makes the rest of us more likely to give them the benefit of the doubt. If they have completed the course and have handed in all the coursework why not set them free to fly. Apart from anything else it'll free up some time for the other classes.

Me? I sat firmly on the fence. I signed the petition but wrote the words 'I'm too busy marking to take the time to form an opinion on the matter.' The head boy wasn't impressed.

Shock of 2007

I could have fallen off my chair. Who’d have thought it? Apparently… prepare yourselves for this now… rumour has it that… are you sitting down?... it seems that this year the A-level results were the best they’ve ever been. EVER been!

OK, perhaps the magnitude of this news has been tempered by the fact that we hear this every year. Every year for twenty five years to be precise. I’d love to know what the class of ’81 did wrong that they didn’t beat the previous best. I’m thinking they spent too much time recording the top ten off the radio onto cassette for their walkmans (walkmen?)

Every year it is the same old story, and every year we hear the same arguments – the exams aren’t getting easier, just different – A-levels are more skills based than knowledge based – Standards of teaching and learning are improving year on year – blah blah blah blah blah.

It’s not that I disagree with any of the above statements. I just think that the inevitability of announcements of ‘the best ever results’ each year devalues the achievements of the pupils. I honestly believe we need to year or two where the results plateau for us to take them seriously again. Having said that I would feel terrible for whatever group of pupils it is who break the trend – they will be shunned by society no doubt.

Of more concern to me, however, is the fact that much of this year’s improvement was overwhelmingly down to private and selective schools. Now before proponents of private and selective education start rejoicing and dancing in the aisles I don’t think this is particularly good news (no, DPW, I still haven’t taken your arguments for private education on board.)

It appears to me that the achievements divide between the Private and Selective sector and the Comprehensives is growing ever more rapidly; apparently it is at its widest for more than a decade. Some commentators predict that this, already large chasm, will become an impassable canyon with the introduction of an A* grade in a few years. Despite this being wonderful news for the upper to mid middle classes living within spitting distance of a decent grammar school, it is terrible for rest of the country. This is one of the reasons I’m not a big fan of the A-level. One of many.

But this is not the time to be having a rant about the injustices of the education system. Now is the time to be congratulating those who did well in their exams this year and wishing them all the very best in whatever it is they do next.

Another success - Quelle Suprise!

Yesterday was a big day for schools around the country. I had hoped to write this yesterday but my mind was filled with all kinds of everything and I hated the idea of replacing it with work. It’s still my holiday and I’m going to hang on to every last second of it.

Yesterday was the day the A-level and AS-level results came out. Newspapers all over England, Wales and Northern Ireland proclaimed it as the best results ever. They proclaimed this even though the printing deadline must have been hours before the results came out. How could they possibly know? Do they have insiders leaking information? Have they been tapping phone lines again? Or, and I’m suggesting that this may be the most likely, were they working on the assumption that it would be the best year so far because last year was then the best so far, and the year before was at that point the best so far, and the year before that…

Almost a quarter of UK A-level entries were awarded the top grade this year... The overall A-level pass rate rose for the 24th year... As usual, the Northern Ireland entries were the most successful this year, with a pass rate of 97.7% and almost a third - 32.4% - awarded A grades. - bbc.co.uk

Now, in any other industry such steady improvement would be hailed as a great achievement, if not a minor miracle; and yet in education it is greeted with controversy and suspicion. Why? Well perhaps people are starting to wonder why these same pupils who are gaining outstanding results at A-level and (lets not stop with secondary education) good 2-1 degrees at University lack basic literacy and numeracy skills needed in the workplace. Maybe they’re wondering why these high fliers are great at texting and copying things from the internet but have mediocre conversational skills. Maybe they’re wondering why someone with an excellent educational history can lack all but the most basic general knowledge. Maybe they are starting to suspect that exams are getting easier.

The results will be seized on by critics as further proof A-Levels are getting easier. But schools minister Lord Adonis has rejected suggestions they have been "dumbed down". - Sky News

I am not one of those people. I should really have pointed out quite early on that I did piteously in my own A-levels. The results were disappointing even back in 1995 and would certainly be considered with nothing but distain by today’s standards. Even, two years later, when I sat a night class Sociology A-level, I only just scrapped by. Do I consider myself intelligent? Sometimes. Do I think I’d do better if I were to try again now? Almost certainly. Do I think the courses are easier? No!

Record numbers of sixth-formers won top grades in this year's A-levels, fuelling accusations that the country's 55-year-old "gold standard" school exam is becoming too easy. - Reuters

I believe that the courses have changed (obviously) and it’s become easier to do well in them. There’s a difference between something being easy and something being easy to do well. A subtle difference, but it exists. The modular system allows pupils to re-sit elements they did badly and to pool the things they did well to create a good final result. Less emphasis on a final exam has lowered stress and cram learning (actually a lot harder than most people give credit.) Pupils only have to know their stuff for the duration of the time it takes to do their coursework (or copy it from an online essay if you want to be controversial)

the need for reform of the system is now undeniable. As a tool for educating the population, A-levels are failing... For all the talk of A-levels becoming easier, their narrow academic nature is still deterring too many from remaining in school or college any longer than they have to. - The Independent

Finally, do I think, therefore, that we are worrying about nothing? Absolutely not. We have every reason to worry. The prizes are becoming increasing worthless (There’s only so many stars you can put after an A to increase its value – How happy will we be when we get A***+xl-nitro in our media studies exam?) and A-levels are nowhere near broad enough to provide and assess the skills we will use later in life. Universities find it impossible to distinguish between vast numbers of very different students all presenting their straight A certificates with identical smiles. The time has come for a change (and I say that very cautiously considering the number of changes there are to our education system year after year – all of which teachers are expected to implement and master without a murmur.) Personally I favour a Baccalaureate-esque programme. The 16 year olds at the table next to me think it’d be easier just to move the grades down one. (16 year olds are extremely nosey these days) I told them I’m opposed to that on the grounds that I have what very few people get these days, an E in Chemistry. I feel special.