The standard measure of a great life is the achievement of great things.
I have decided that I disagree.
A great life is one that achieves mundane, ordinary achievements – but does so while carrying a great burden.
Achieving greatness while shoving the burdens of everyday life onto others is not great.
So I’ve already had a go at Lord Snooty for his “brazenly elitist” ambition for our education system, but I’ve come round to a slightly different way of thinking about this. Forget the teachers – let’s think about the children.
Let’s just imagine that my wildest dream comes true: the English education system actually does adopt a differentiated meritocratic approach to schools.
Kids who have that magical combination of ability and application will be placed in an environment that allows them to thrive – that challenges them with the highest level of intellectual stimulation, while reducing to an absolute minimum the external enforcement of standards, rules and expectations. These children will develop stronger “moral muscles,” have a self-motivated work ethic that they formed within themselves, rather than imposed on them from above by others.
Less able, but still hard working children can be spoon fed, just as they currently are in our over-regulated, micromanaged system. It serves them well, and can continue to do so.
And the disaffected ones, those who can’t see the point of learning about Medieval history, algebra, Shakespeare and Boyles’ Law? Any teacher with half a brain can design a practical, physical curriculum (hell, we’ve all suffered those DCSF Inset sessions on “Kinaesthetic Learning Styles” often enough) just as long as we are allowed to ditch the bullshit that the New Labour Thought Police think is so essential.
The real difference is that by separating these groups, teachers can concentrate on a single task rather than three at the same time. Only a half-wit would imagine that a teacher can meet the needs of all three groups at the same time just as well as they can meet the needs of one group at a time.
Is that so dangerous? Only if you really believe that all children are the same. Only if you believe that “equality” means that everyone should be treated the same regardless of whether it is appropriate.
“I’d win,” she said.
“No you wouldn’t. You would have a lovely happy time building a peaceful civilisation until suddenly, and without warning, I attacked it from four directions at once and destroyed you. Then you’d cry and refuse to have sex with me ever again.”
“I’d win,” she said.
Lord Snooty has waded in with his Bright Idea.
Apparently, setting the entrance requirement for a teacher training course to a 2:2 or better will raise standards in education.
Would that be a 2:2 from a Russell Group University, or a 2:2 from a Million+ University?
And yes, there is a difference. A hell of a big difference.
Anyway, that prompts me to suggest my own three simple steps to raising standards in education:
There is only one universal rule in education: one size does not fit all.
Today, a colleague and I found a box of ancient lesson plans – and we were delighted to pick over them. Oh, how standards have improved since Tony Bliar won an election by declaring his three top priorities to be, “Education, education, education,” and explained, “Our children will learn more and they will earn more.”
These plans were truly appalling. One page covered an entire day; no curriculum cross referencing; no three-level differentiation; no specified learning outcomes; no activity objectives; no starter or plenary; no key vocabulary; no facility for evaluating or recording how well the lesson went. Under current guidelines, Ofsted would have marked those lessons as “fails” before the lesson had started.
It’s amazing how far we have progressed from those Dark Ages of education to the new enlightened era of New Labour education policy. Thanks to their continued vigilance and the hard work of Ofsted, all lessons are now extensively documented to prove that teachers are doing everything in their power to deliver Tony Bliar’s 1997 election promise.
Meanwhile, according to 2007 figures published by the Department for Children, Schools and Families, primary school literacy has fallen under New Labour; numeracy has failed to improve despite massive investment and interference new initiatives by the Government; most damning of all, after more than a century of stable but steady growth in social mobility, the ability of children from lower-income families to achieve higher-income jobs is now in decline for the first time since the peak of the Industrial Revolution.
And people ask me why I pay school fees…
Nice, isn’t it?
Thirty five grand’s worth of German luxury saloon as a courtesy car for the day while Darling Wifey’s little hatchback was in for servicing. That’s what you get when the dealership manager is pleased with the way his daughter was taught. Kudos to DW.
However…
It is so wide that it was a nightmare to drive in central York. It is so cumbersome that it was horrible on the forty mile round trip to collect the Chatterboxes from school. Why do so many of the other parents have A6s when they spend their lives on those tight, twisty country roads? The handbrake was awful. The footwell cramped (yes, I know I am bloody tall, but there is more room in the footwell of my tiny Citroen!) And why does a glovebox need remote control opening?
It all makes me feel so much better about being far too poor to afford such a beautiful car.
Nice to see that the Government is taking the economic conditions seriously.
They are promising not to make cuts (because only the opposition does that) and, to prove it, awarded themselves a 2.33% pay rise this year.
However, if you work for the Government, your pay will either be frozen or capped at less than 1%. This is because someone has to make the economies to pay for the sloppiness and indulgence of those held responsible for monitoring and regulating the economy.
Hang on – I exceeded all of my performance targets this year, which is more than can be said for those who are enjoying a far more generous pay rise than me, and who want me to give them credit for making “tough decisions.”
The “tough decision” I want New Labour to make is to accept that they were sleeping on the job, accept that they failed to regulate an industry they were demonstrably unable to understand, and then responded to the crisis by laying down the foundations for an economic boom and bust that would make the heady days of the 1980s look like a quiet day on a millpond.
And that’s before I even get started on their gross misconduct in education, social services, health and the small matter of a couple of wars.
There’s an election due. Bring it on.
I always knew I wanted to be a consultant, but by the time I get my act together and fill in an application form, this loophole will have been plugged.
Having said that, I’ll bet my trousers that it won’t stop the current lot of consultants charging £500 a day to tell me how to do my job, in spite of the fact that they haven’t done themselves it for at least half a decade.
We have had trouble with our lights for years. Not all the lights in our home, but the expensive lights in our front & back rooms. The ones with half a dozen high-powered halogen bulbs in each.
The problem is that the bulbs blow alarmingly quickly – a dozen a week if we replace them, at £8 each, and then finally the transformer in the light unit failed.
We have consulted electricians a couple of times about this, with £35 call-out charges and £30 per half hour plus parts. None has found a solution, although their list of suggestions is, shall we say, less than scientific.
I’ve finally found out what the problem is. Halogen bulbs burn much hotter, and their filaments are much finer. And in our house we have a creature called Tiny Flirt (Clodhoppus Babyelephantus) who travels everywhere at full throttle in gigantic leaps and bounds, and an enormous creature called Little Nutter (Autisticus Bouncii.) He can bounce on a paved driveway like it’s a trampoline.
When halogen bulbs vibrate, they break. And when the children are in our house, it rings like a bell.
Time to get my screwdriver out. This weekend I shall mostly be fitting cheap light fittings…
I have to admit that I was amused when I heard the claim made in the USA that had Stephen Hawking been British and reliant upon the NHS, he would have been left to die.
I laughed out loud when I heard the claim that Senator Kennedy, who is in his late seventies, would not have been treated for his brain tumour if he was British.
But this claim made by Fox News, that nationalised healthcare systems are a breeding ground for recruiting Islamist terrorists, had me in hysterics.
It’s going to take the USA a very long time indeed to win back the respect it is losing because of its conduct in this debate.
