niallsmith

The coronavirus crisis has proved a significant challenge for students, parents, schools and the teaching profession, but after 9 months (at time of writing), we can all agree that “Blended Learning” has come a long way… Back in March 2020, it was more of an aspiration than a reality, whereas now it is being offered as a viable alternative to IRL (In Real Life) schooling.

As the crisis continues to develop, moreover, some teachers (and others) are campaigning to move learning online in order to protect staff, students and parents from Covid. I infer from the debate around this issue that these teachers believe that this will be a short term measure and that, at some point, things will return to normal. I am not so sure…

Ten years or so ago, I was involved with a school academisation which had what we would now call “Blended Learning” at the heart of its pedagogical approach. The academy trust in question was The Learning Schools Trust and was inspired by the Swedish education providers, Kunskappskolan. Their model used larger group teaching, ICT, personalisation and online resources, as well as small group tuition to deliver the curriculum. Ultimately, the model did not work, largely due to the conservative nature of the English system, but it certainly could have… 

And this is an important point: the English education system hasn’t fundamentally changed for decades. Yes, there has been some tinkering and new technology, but what we have is what Henry Ford would have called “faster horses”. The system is ready for radical transformation and I genuinely don’t think that most teachers realise a) that this is even possible or b) how revolutionary it would be. After all, from the inside, schools are what they are, right? They start at 8.35am (say), finish at 3.15pm (ish) , have classrooms, corridors, teachers, detentions, break, lunchtime, Sir, Miss, parents evenings, etc etc. But do they have to? Take the shibboleth of 30 students per class. It seems set in stone, right? Not many know that the figure of 30 was decided on post-war as it was the size of a British Army platoon and thought to be the maximum number who could be commanded by one officer in battle… (and many a teacher, on a wet Thursday afternoon, has had reason to thank our military minded predecessors for not deciding on a higher number…) But what is the maximum number of students in a Google Meet lesson? Why 30? Why not 100? Or 240? Food for thought.

If Blended Learning is formally adopted in our schools, then (in simple terms) schools will be able to reduce the number of days each student / Year Group is in school. If, say, the reduction was from 5 days per week face to face teaching to 3 days face to face plus 2 days “Blended”, then the staffing implications would be huge. Each blended class (of dozens, or hundreds of students) could be taught in much larger groups by one online teacher, supported by a range of online / pre-recorded resources. My back of fag packet calculations suggest that a 40% reduction in face to face teaching (replaced by flexible, blended teaching) would mean that a school would be able to cut its salary costs by about 20%. This would be done by restructuring and redundancies. More food for thought.

But, parents won’t accept it, surely? If the coronavirus crisis has shown us anything, it is that people will accept almost anything. Schools have been closed, and theatres, galleries, stadia, pubs, restaurants etc, still are, with no reopening date in sight… If the Department for Education adopted a blended learning model fully and added in a familiar “Stay Safe” mantra, then I believe that parents would accept it. And what can they do if they don’t? Write to their MP, perhaps? (Forgive my sarcastic tone…)

Personally, and as you will have intuited, I am in favour of traditional face to face teaching. It is better for teaching and learning. It is also better for delivering the “hidden” curriculum, as well as the extracurricular. It is also much better for disadvantaged and vulnerable students. For these reasons, I do not want a blended learning model as a permanent feature of our schools. But there are some people who might…. Perhaps those looking for efficiencies, technology providers, those less interested in disadvantaged or vulnerable students, as well as “creative disruptors”, who think that the whole system needs a damn good shake up..?

Teachers lobbying for extended school closures supported by blended learning might want to be careful what they wish for…

29th December 2020

Much has changed since my last blog entry. Some of it for the better and some of it for the worse. The aim of this blog entry is for me to reflect on the effect these changes have had on the school that I am privileged to lead.

A useful starting point is a consideration of the origin of these changes. My school is a public institution and I am a public servant. The changes that I have overseen have, therefore, originated with the Department for Education (DfE). I have, along with the Governors, staff and students, followed “guidance”. Put simply, we have followed instructions from legitimate authority. The idea that changes have been caused by The Virus is both irrational and absurd and not much different to children discussing The Ghost that lives in the spare room…

This identification of the origin of the changes which have transformed education over the last seven months is useful, as it provides a rational framework in which to reflect on educational provision. With this in mind, I think that it is appropriate to start with a recognition of good faith on the part of the Department for Education. To a great extent, they are following political instructions and doing their best to offer practical guidance. And at the heart of this guidance is the central concept of mitigation of risk.

Schools have become accustomed, over the past twenty years or so, to the ideology of risk mitigation and writing Risk Assessments to express this has become part of school culture. Schools are safer places than they were twenty years ago, which, to say the least, is to be welcomed. But during the coronavirus crisis, risk has cast a longer shadow and activities of all sorts which were normal last year have now, in the name of risk mitigation, been either reshaped, reduced or removed from the educational offer.

So, what does this look and feel like in schools?

Let’s start with lessons, which are, after all, any school’s principal activity. The good news is that lessons, and the learning and teaching of which they consist, continue pretty much unaffected. Some lessons are amazing, others good, others satisfactory. In our school, we have (thus far) “zoned” each year group, so the students stay where they are and the teachers circulate. This has meant that the corridors are quieter, but that the balance of “ownership” of the classrooms has tilted towards the students. Experienced teachers know the power of ownership and territory… But there is more than this, in that students no longer have access to specialist teaching facilities (such as Design Technology, Science, Art, Drama etc), which can only be damaging. Teachers report that their “step count” has doubled to around 15,000 steps per day, which is definitely draining on top of five 50 minute lessons per day. We have mitigated the risk of cross contagion between year groups, perhaps, but this has come at an educational cost.

The effect of our new zoning arrangements on on Year 7 is interesting. They are thriving. Perhaps this is not surprising as, in many ways, their secondary experience is quite similar to their primary experience, which means that they are in familiar territory. Then, as now, the teachers come to them. They have “their” class and “their” classroom. But secondary school requires the negotiation of a larger institution and, crucially, larger students. This might sound intimidating, but it is preparation for life. Put another way, Year 7 need more than just a continuation of primary school.

Then we have the spectre of Blended Learning, which is a set of e-learning arrangements designed to mitigate the risk of students being sent home, either in small groups or larger ones. As an advocate of e-learning, I recognise the power of technology to enhance learning, via research, communication, presentation, collaboration, engagement and more. I also appreciate the fact that the period of Remote Learning (broadly from March to July) boosted our skills and capacity to properly “deliver” e-learning, which was a pleasing silver lining to what was, in my view, a dark period in English education. Blended Learning, therefore, builds on our improving skills and provides a useful addition to the teacher’s toolkit. This is to be welcomed…

But.

There is a fine line between Blended Learning and Remote Learning, which is clear from even a short comparison of the words “blended”, which connotes skill, expertise, patience, integration and (strangely) warmth, with “remote” which suggests coldness, isolation, distance and lack of care. The analytical habits of an English teacher are hard to break..! The impact of Remote Learning was clear: students who most need the human touch of school (disadvantaged and vulnerable students) showed the least engagement with Remote Learning. They suffered the most, while many more advantaged students thrived in supportive home environments.

What this means in practice is that, while I recognise the benefits of Blended Learning, I am extremely wary of full Remote Learning because disadvantaged and vulnerable students suffer the most.

A consideration of the impact of e-learning on education, whether it is via Blended or Remote arrangements, leads naturally to a consideration of the wider nature and purpose of education. Is education simply about the transfer of knowledge via a technological interface, or is it more..? Put simply: do we want to train our children to engage with the world solely through computer or mobile phone screens? What is the vision we have for the society we are seeking to build via our education system?

My contribution to this debate is to maintain that, while technology has its place, it can never replace the real interaction of school. Nor can it provide the intervention and support that many students and their families need. So, I am pleased that learning and teaching continues largely unaffected (in the short term, at least). But, there is more to education and school than lessons.

And this is where the Department for Education’s risk mitigation guidance is having a more damaging effect…

Trips. This short, chirpy word conjures up all kinds of images and memories, even in the mind of the most Gradgrindian adult..! And yes, trips are often “fun”, but they have a much more profound purpose and impact. They are a crucial part of education which is currently being (quietly) suffocated. I’ll give you just one example: one Saturday every November I (used to) take a minibus of Year 10 students up to Cambridge. We would visit my old college, after which they would have an hour of free time (rebranded as “Remote Supervision”) to tour the city (i.e. find McDonald’s), after which we would attend a series of mini-lectures by the warmly welcoming university admissions team. The impact of this trip over ten years has been to boost our students’ applications and admissions to Russell Group universities. This year, our school sent its first ever student to Cambridge, which, since we were founded in 1963, is both amazing and sad at the same time. This year the trip will not happen. I have been informed so by the university Admissions Team, who offered a remote session instead… Some young people don’t need to actually visit a university to have their aspirations boosted; they don’t need a teacher to say “look at what you could do / have / be..!” but many do. Mine do.

I could write for hours and hours (delightful to me, boring to you…) about the many high impact trips I have been privileged to accompany, attend and lead: Ypres battlefields, The Globe Theatre, an Arcade Game Expo (don’t ask..!) and many more. I mourn their passing and am determined to make sure they happen again. But for this to happen, the Department for Education must (yes, must!) explicitly recognise the importance of trips in their guidance.

And then, there is sport. Young people need sport. They need it for physical fitness, psychological wellbeing, self esteem, teamwork and more, including the ability to individually assess risk. Think, for example, of the individual, spontaneous “risk assessment” that goes into making a tackle in rugby… The PE Faculty at our school moved heaven and earth to build a culture of rugby (union, not league, please..!), as well as a full range of other sports, but these are now so wound up in “guidance” that it has become difficult to organise and deliver. Fixtures are “off”. To be clear: the Department for Education’s coronavirus guidance is damaging school sport.

The same goes for extracurricular activity of all sorts, in all sorts of schools: drama performances, art clubs, bands, orchestras, cadets, chess clubs, reading groups, eco-clubs and many, many more are being thwarted and stunted by governmental guidance. How, you might ask? They rely on students being able to interact closely across year groups and across schools, which goes against the guidance. Risk has been mitigated, but opportunities lost.

Education is more than exam results (don’t get me started on Centre Assessed Grades..!) and it is more than lessons. It is a strange, fun, enthralling, frustrating, joyful kind of flourishing. It is profoundly human. And that means taking some risks. We cannot, surely, allow the rich tradition of liberal education to wither on the vine of coronavirus.

In conclusion, I am proud of the way we are dealing with a very difficult situation: we are following guidance and mitigating risk. Good. But I need to be clear: the current guidance and arrangements are creating a broader and possibly longer lasting risk to the breadth and richness of education we are offering our children. And that cannot go unchallenged.

Is it worth going to university?

It’s a good question and one that has been being asked a lot over the last few weeks in broadsheets and blogs. The key point often addressed is whether being “saddled with debt” is worth the career boost that a degree might give you…

Depending on your choice of media, you might read about how Emily set up an interior decorating business straight out of school, or how Harry has set up a bespoke Edwardian picnic hamper business, etc, but the key focus is generally on the financial “deal”. Is going to university, quite literally, worth it?

Seen in terms of financial outlay the “deal” seems marginal. You might spend three years studying Theology and yet not become a career Master of the Universe. A disconcerting, indeed offputting, prospect, particularly if the word “debt” conjures up images of QuickQuid and Amigo…

However, if the argument is expanded beyond financial capital, to include social and cultural capital, the argument starts to tilt in favour of attending university. Put simply, by attending university, a young person can acquire social and cultural capital that can be “traded” (if you will) later in life for contacts, favours, internships, work experience, know-how, references, gossip etc. This is career gold dust. However, I am struck by how many of the commentators in the “Is uni worth it?” debate fail to point this out, perhaps already possessing the requisite social and cultural capital (as well as, quite possibly, financial capital) needed to make a good start on their careers.

Thus, it is all very well for an imaginary Cressida, to say “I didn’t go to university and am now working as an entry level journalist”, but how, exactly, did she land this highly desirable job? The pathway from a solid middle class background, including independent schooling, is going to be smoothed in many telling little ways by her possession of significant social and cultural capital… It is disappointing that she does not appreciate this or how much more difficult it might be for, say, Tyler, from Basingstoke, to follow her path.

So, in essence, if you already have high levels of financial, social and cultural capital (like the imaginary Cressida), then you are going to be fine either way. Go or don’t go to university: it’s really a matter of personal preference. However, if you are Tyler, an imaginary boy with the same ambitions, you should go.

And we haven’t even mentioned academic capital, in other words, learning and qualifications. A purist would say that this (academic capital) is the most important aspect of university education and it is, in my view, an unarguable fact that you should not be attending university if you are not at least very interested in a chosen subject. This interest, often modishly referred to as a “passion”, is a pre-requisite for matriculation.

So, to answer the question directly: you should go to university if:
a) you want and need a professional qualification and / or
b) you are very interested in a particular subject and
c) you are interested in taking advantage of the social and cultural opportunities available at university.

Simple! 😉

Niall

Here is a Reading List that several Southborough colleagues (Cath, Jenny, Jamie-Lee and Amy) and I put together at the end of last term as part of our Leaders are Readers initiative.

Any feedback, additions or suggestions welcome!
EDUCATION
Making Every Lesson Count by Shaun Allison & Andy Tharby
Leadership Matters: How Leaders at All Levels Can Create Great Schools by Andy Buck
Making Good Progress by Daisy Christodoulou
Getting the Buggers to Behave by Sue Cowley
Developing as an Educational Leader and Manager by Megan Crawford
What Every Teacher Needs to Know about Psychology by David Didau
Full On Learning by Zoe Elder
How to Survive an Ofsted Inspection by Sarah Findlater
Women and Educational Leadership by Margaret Grogan
Visible Learning by John Hattie
Teach Like a Champion by Doug Lemov
Teacher Toolkit Ross Morrison McGill
The Hidden Lives of Learners by Graham Nuthall
Trivium by Martin Robinson
The Learning Game: A Teacher’s Inspirational Story by Jonathan Smith
Battle Hymn of the Tiger Teachers by Michaela Way
Embedded Formative Assessment by Dylan William
Why Don’t Students Like School? Daniel Willingham
MISCELLANEOUS LEADERSHIP
Good to Great by Jim Collins
Leading by Alex Ferguson
The Tipping Point: How Little Things Can Make A Big Difference by Malcolm Gladwell
Legacy by James Kerr
Endurance: Shackleton’s Incredible Journey to the Antarctic by Alfred Lansing
Lean In: Women, Work, and the Will to Lead by Sheryl Sandberg
Option B: Facing Adversity, Building Resilience and Finding Joy by Sheryl Sandberg
Bounce: The Myth of Talent and the Power of Practice by Matthew Syed
Black Box Thinking: The Surprising Truth About Success by Matthew Syed
Commander: The Life and Exploits of Britain’s Greatest Frigate Captain by Stephen Taylor
I Am Malala: How One Girl Stood Up for Education and Changed the World by Malala Yousafzi

 

Niall Smith

3rd August 2017

Here it is, long overdue: my second blog. The difficult second album…

I am teaching Year 10 English this year, which means that in just over a year or so’s time, my class and I will be moved up to the forward trenches and launch our assault, with the rest of the Cohort, on the well fortified defences of the new GCSE examinations. 10-5 are an eager bunch (that dread word!), who, like any group of conscripts, I suppose, need a fair deal of guidance and motivation: they will do well, of course they will, but what about their grades?

I must admit, that when the new 1-9 grades were announced, I felt… Well, frankly, baffled and outraged. The old A*-G were like old friends: familiar, comforting and well, I / we understood what they meant…

A* – Alpha, yes, but with extra stellar connotations. “Stella, Stella for star!” The mark of genius.

A – Alpha, angel, Aphrodite. Are there any bad words that start with A? Lovely shape, pointing arrow-like to the heavens!

B – Well, it’s not an A (the plosive “b” spoils it a bit) but it’s almost there.

C – An old fashioned O Level “pass”, made good by its clean sibilance and homophonic suggestion of see / sea. Safe, secure. Valued in performance tables and appraisal meetings…

D – Many years ago, a student asked me whether GCSE grades stood for anything. Surprisingly, perhaps, this sparked off quite a discussion in the class, with one student stating “D is for dumb”. Naturally, I argued (successfully) against this, but D has all the negativity of an O Level “fail”, combined with a plosive “d” and associative words such as death, dull etc. Not many positive words start with D… Delight, perhaps?

E – Epsilon. Brave New World.

F – “Fail”, of course, but I must admit to a soft spot for this punky grade. About ten or so years ago, in a galaxy far far away, I was invigilating a GCSE English Literature exam when I spotted one of my students… John (N.R.N), who had a decent enough coursework portfolio (26 marks, in old money) Sitting with arms crossed, scowling. I approached and asked him what the matter was. He hadn’t written a single word. “I ain’t f****** doing it.” “Okay,” I said, hoping that a bit of ironic banter would motivate him to start writing about Hearts and Partners, “why don’t you write that?” He took a pen out and wrote “I ain’t f******* doing it” on his script then got up and left. Overall grade: F

G – A sad grade, often the reward for non-attendance / school refusal / PRU placement

U – Enough said.

I apologise if some of the meanings I have attached do not resonate with the reader. It would be right to say that for some students, an E is a victory, which is true, but that is not the point. The point is that the old grades have been imbued with so much meaning, good and bad, over the last fifty or so years, that the only possible way to change things is to start again.

Will the negative connotations of D attach themselves to 3 over time? Maybe, maybe not, but in the meantime, the new grades give us an opportunity to redefine students’ achievement free of historical baggage and for this reason, I welcome them.

Now, all I need to do is understand them…

 

I was very struck by a tweet by Alain de Botton the other day(?), which said: “There is no such thing as work-life balance. Everything worth fighting for unbalances your life.” If there is a great example of this maxim in action, it is teaching… So while I started off this inaugural, pre Staff Meeting blog wanting to talk about said “Work-Life Balance”, I realise that it might be better to discuss the more prosaically monikered “workload” and how to deal with it. “Workload” I can do, “Balance” maybe not.

As a headteacher, I am always open to the suggestion (insinuation?) that, as I no longer teach the full 25 hours per week, I do not (really) understand the problem. Or if I did, I don’t any more. Well, be that as it may, but here are my 10 tried and tested tactics for dealing with workload. They have worked for me…

1. Fifteen or twenty minutes silent working every lesson. All students need opportunities for calm and focus (“settle” as well as “stir”). Frankly, so do teachers. A full five period day with no quiet time is tantamount to a nervous breakdown.
2. An orderly, disciplined, start and finish to every lesson. Non negotiable. Without this, so much work is wasted.
3. Homework (the old tyrant): make full use of e-learning homework platforms such as SAMlearning, Doddle, MyMaths etc. Not only do they mark the work for you, they let you know who has / hasn’t done it. Gold dust.
4. Marking (1). Focus on quality. What was the purpose of the work the students did? Mark that, rather than everything. Make sure your marking has impact by making sure that students respond to your marking, maybe by redrafting (for example). This can very easily be linked to Tactic 1 above.
5. Marking (2). Focus on quantity. Never ever take more than one set of books home. Ever.
6. E-mail. Check twice a day only. E-mail for information only. Never respond in writing to a rude e-mail. Anything “difficult” or emotional needs to be said face to face.
7. Meetings. One hour maximum, once per week, but try for half an hour if possible. Never convene a “difficult” meeting on a Friday (this is experience talking!)
8. Leave early. Once a week, leave at 3.30. Don’t apologise. If you are a manager, model this behaviour.
9. Teamwork: pop into each others’ lessons and praise them / their students. The impression of teamwork that this gives students is powerful juju. You are not alone.
10. Physical exercise. Try to do something physical once a week. Ideally a team game with colleagues. Try to avoid drinking alcohol every day.

The fact of the matter is that teaching is exhausting, physically and emotionally. Nothing will change this and “Balance” may be a far off dream. But I do believe that workload can be managed.