Why shouldn't I quit?

“Oh, I’ve quit,” is one of the most disheartening, and sadly one of the most common things that teachers have to hear from their pupils. Usually it is in regard to a voluntary club or activity, which the teacher has given up time to organise, and which the child is at liberty to join or to leave at will, but sometimes it is about reading a book, undertaking a project or belonging to a group. No child would be pushed into continuing indefinitely with an activity (especially if causing misery or proving to be too difficult) but the casualness of taking activities on that become superseded by other ones on a shifting and regular basis needs careful thought and management. We live in an era of choices, of trying things for size and of changing our minds based on a whim. Whilst it may not be wise to take on things such as learning an expensive instrument untried, there is a balance, and all of life cannot be simply based on what we feel like doing today, and not doing tomorrow. This is also important if we are to have due regard and respect for the other people involved in the activity, and the leader or coach who spends time and effort organising it, and putting aside time for others rather than putting themselves first.

On the radio this morning I heard about a cathedral that was cutting its professional choir by a third to save money. As I know something about music I realised before the presenter did that the choir would be unable to perform adequately and would soon be thought of as something that was not successful enough to warrant existing at all. It set me off thinking about commitment, because keeping up any activities in the school where I am Head is a juggling act of keeping pupils focused and on task, enjoying themselves and understanding their contribution to the whole. Not every second can be fun, but the collaboration, co-operation and learning that takes place in these activities is second to none, and is indeed often better training for being successful in the future than working under direction in lessons. Added to which orchestras, drama clubs, choirs, sports squads, training clubs, reading circles and even my own philosophy club cannot continue when each week another child sends a curt message saying: “I’ve quit”. New joiners are always welcome, but they cannot be encouraged and developed if the rest of the group fluctuates and there is a sliding scale of popularity week by week affecting whether the club is required or desired at all.

In my opinion commitment is one of the most important values we can share in life. Commitment holds the key to so many relationships in life: to our nearest and dearest, to the organisations we join and continue to support, to the jobs we undertake, to our work ethic, our interests, and to all of the other people we accompany on our day to day journeys. Some commitments are about obligation – tax returns and bills are commitments we cannot avoid – others are about the way we take our place in life, balancing the needs of the many societies and people with whom we circulate each day – and other commitments about our own choices and preferences. Commitment engenders trust and achievement, and this is something that makes life feel worthwhile. Commitment is the thing that enables belonging, purpose and friendship. It also plays a pivotal role in how other people view, judge and value us.

In my school the teachers have a commitment to the education of the children. They exercise this commitment in front of their classes, but also into the late hours spent planning, marking and organising for their lessons and in liaison with others for the purpose of sharing good practice and developing expertise. They develop committed relationships with the children in their care, on the one hand instructing, guiding and teaching and on the other the essential social and spiritual nurturing, and accompanying that helps children to grow. They create partnerships with parents so that children’s learning is holistic and backed up at home for consolidation. Beyond this each teacher has a commitment to the wellbeing of the children in the whole school and the care of each other. All staff run extra-curricular clubs (often several) to extend the educational experiences of the pupils, and all share in the daily duties in care of the children. They remain committed to the Mission of the school and to the future of each of the young people, regardless of how long or short lived that relationship might be. If it sounds grand and idealistic that is unapologetic: a commitment to a school and its pupils, especially in a faith environment, is not a light 8.30am – 4.10pm workday-only commitment in line with payment and contract, it is far more, encompassing heartfelt responsibility, generosity, compassion and sense of purpose. The teachers take great joy, pride and care in what they do.

Hopefully, with this level of care and commitment, and the love they receive in their families, children will grow up to understand that commitment is partly about duty, partly about contribution and partly about pleasure and enjoyment (often from the collaboration and team effort as much as from the thing itself).  Sometimes there is a great requirement for personal commitment in order to feed back into the activity, such as music practice or word learning, and although this may not be as much fun it is part of the whole. Thus doggedness, resilience, self-motivation, desire to complete things and a sense of personal achievement can all be earned and enhanced by developing an understanding of commitment.

So I cannot help but worry when I see so many children who believe that success means seeing results immediately, and thus failure is also instantaneous, and prefer to avoid commitment in case it should not bear fruit, or because it has not borne fruit soon enough. Many children want to participate in activities until it impacts on their social lives, so children “quit for this week” simply because they don’t fancy being included that day (a disaster for longer term goals that take week on week rehearsal such as concerts or matches). Other children only want to participate if the activity carries some kudos, so that a first team place is snatched with glee, but a place in squad is declined as unimportant, despite the fact that teams can only be made up from those who learn and improve through practising. Elite activities are good eventually, but nobody can become Leader of the Orchestra without years of training individually and in the back rows. 

I believe that loving conversations are the best way to help children understand their need to be committed, to discriminate between natural selfishness and proper decision making. Alongside this they need help to consider respect for others involved with them in their activities and the people who strive for their enjoyment and fulfilment by organising events for them. An extra week before “quitting” or being expected to speak to the person in charge themselves, to say why they wish to give up are also good ways to develop good manners and a sensible approach to participation. I probably suffer from an overdeveloped sense of duty, but with it has come deep satisfaction with having joined and benefited from many clubs and activities, including working through the boring or sticky patches and being able to participate happily even when I haven’t really been particularly good at whatever it is. I have also experienced great joy in wholehearted participation in many things, and the sense of camaraderie, achievement and friendship that has grown through trusting relationships is truly life enhancing. That is a life lesson for happiness I would dearly love to share with all of our children. Instead of, “I’ve quit it”, I would love to hear the children say, “I’ll stick with it!”

Why should I be a brave learner?

After speaking to the children at assembly for several weeks about bravery, I was delighted to have a return match from a class who shared their own stories of bravery with us all, and were clearly pleased with their courage and success. Much overdue, I thought this was worth considering in a little more detail.

Being brave is something which was, in all likelihood, introduced to us as toddlers as a negative concept. We were expected to be brave about things that seemed frightening, painful or unknown, like spiders, grazes or vaccinations, and the fearful feelings that being brave gave us will have been difficult to shake ever since. It is therefore human nature to protect ourselves from activities that go beyond our confidence, comfort or enjoyment. It is trained into us from very young that being brave should always to be considered in the light of possible harmful outcome, pain or failure.

However, we also know that our own success is likely to be limited if we don’t shake ourselves from our comfort zone, embrace things we are not certain about and make ourselves have a go. Very few people have the ability to take risks comfortably. Some do however, and I must say, it is with great admiration that I watch people undertaking extreme sports, pressurised challenges or developing inventive or even crazy ideas. For most of us, bravery means having a go at something small, measured and slightly unfamiliar. We live in a world of due diligence, calculated risk and critical evaluation. It is no wonder that our children would expect to be provided with solid answers and proven paths rather than have to think for themselves, or be challenged to create new knowledge, and that we, in our own insecurity, urge them to follow our paths and not their own. 

In fact, giving praise only for producing correct and accurate work has become so endemic in our education process that we have effectively side-lined real creative thinking and getting things right by getting them wrong. We no longer prize working concepts through, or having mad ideas. We have eschewed inspiration, wild imagining and unlikely connections made in lightning flashes, for more prosaic standard ‘correct’ answers, with the onus on the teacher to cover and inculcate every possibility rather than allowing the child to explore. I fear for children who cannot see past the need to be taught the right answer, who choose not to be brave in their learning, who are afraid to have a go or to face the possibility of short term failure up as one of the options for what might happen – and cope with that. I worry that we, as teachers and parents, reinforce these fears (perhaps because of our own training), despite the fact that we probably know that real independence, valuable learning and true entrepreneurship comes from being brave, striking out independently and doing something, or even thinking something, that might be seen as different. Bravery allows that leap of faith into the unknown, into the world of potential success and into that essential place where we can, as human learners, really come to know ourselves and  our strengths and see what needs to be overcome. Only by being brave and by experiencing the consequences with courage, can we develop into whole and incredible people. 

I’m not speaking here of foolhardiness, of wanton danger, or of misplaced confidence, I’m simply talking about opening the mind to something new, rather than closing it due to inexperience, or by placing too much store on outward success by only attempting what can easily be achieved. In terms of learning behaviour it is sadly all too common to see children hang back, to say they are not sure when asked a question, or to be coy when expected to express an opinion, rather than having the courage to have a go. often a teacher knows full well that a child has the ability and intellect to do more, and it is a real sadness when that child is waiting for one of her peers to answer instead. 

So for the future, it is worth considering doing something that requires brave learning behaviour. Make or find some opportunities to do something which you wouldn’t usually do, or accept a learning challenge that feels a little bit mad. You could embark on this experience with your child, or just quietly on your own. I spoke to a mum this week who is attempting her first marathon, to a teacher who has agreed to prepare and lead the staff prayers although she has never done such a thing before, to members of staff who have signed up to the staff choir to learn to sing together for a public performance with no previous music reading ability, and to a child about to go to her first ski school with a great fear of heights. In the classroom I listened to six year olds trying to reply to their teacher in Spanish amid much hilarity and some fabulous accents - real bravery in action, especially from a new girl who had only attended one lesson and wanted to take her turn. I was shamed from my position as wallflower and had a go - and although my accent was not as good as the children's, they applauded me, and I was delighted that I had left my anxiety on the side to show my nerve. What these people have in common isn’t just wilful bravery; it is the anticipation of great enjoyment, satisfaction and confidence in themselves, and a fantastic learning experience.

Good luck to you all in your next courageous learning step – remember that failure is a helpful learning option, that it will be a challenge, that success is often better if it is surprising - and who knows, you might even enjoy yourself!

Why is it important to be bored?

“A spirited mind never stops within itself; it is always aspiring” Michel de Montaigne

There have been many articles in the popular press this week about allowing children to be bored. I thought it might be useful for us as educators and parents to have a chance to consider the educational reasons why allowing children unstructured time is not only important, but essential.  

Firstly, we all know the adage that ‘necessity is the mother of invention’. This may well be true, but invention and indeed all of human endeavour is only possibly if it can be imagined. Imagination is something that we can feed with ideas and technical understanding, but imagination is only truly possible in the spaces when we can be openly reflective. Imagination is an active internal process which connects concrete ideas, past experience, diverse inspiration and personal creativity, to create something new. It takes perseverance, time and self-motivation. In truth, imagination is the mother of invention. It is a critical faculty for learning and for success in life. The best time for imagination is not the pressure of requiring a solution, it is the time you have nothing else to do.

As human beings we inhabit many spheres, but it is useful in this case to imagine the difference between an inner creative thinking and imagining life, and a world of external learning stimuli, activities and experiences. It is the relationship between the two that creates a whole person. However, we have become accustomed to listening to the noise of that external world as if it holds all the keys to life, and rejecting the internal voice. How many of us put on music or television to stave off those moments when we might have to engage with our inner selves and run the risk of feeling bored? Two seconds of relative peace and we take out a phone to check, or to text or to chat with someone else. We have become so afraid of boredom that we frantically fill all of our time, and feel guilty if we don’t. We also want to save our own children from boredom, and in doing so we are stealing away their inner lives and their vital connections to themselves. If we fear that without external activities they may in fact become nothing, then we will be impelled to fill their lives for them and we will be creating in them a greater fear of being alone and being unoccupied, and of being unable to cope with just thinking and being themselves. We will have made them dependent and in fact we may even have enabled them to become lonely, unfulfilled and unhappy in later life.

Dr Laura Markham refers to the need for unstructured time, because children have so many activities to complete, often one or two on each night of the week after a full structured day at school, plus homework. She explains how structured time closes off the imagination and the ability to be self-determining, it makes them lack confidence in their own abilities and unable to be independent. The result of keeping children fully immersed in set activities  is that it  models to them that they can only succeed, or have fun, in structured ways, where they have little control and not much need of self-motivation, other than to compete (hopefully successfully) against the other children placed there to do the same. Whilst it can of course promote skills and team spirit, there needs to be a balance if that same child is ever going to have the imagination to develop strategic play or to be able to transfer skills to other situations. Being always involved in structured activity and games can stifle individuality and reinforces the need to comply rather than to innovate.

Boredom is a creative state. Dr Teresa Belton writing for the BBC admits that boredom can initially feel like an uncomfortable state, especially as modern life makes us unused to it. But by giving in to that feeling (in the same way as we give in to that extra chocolate or to any other unhealthy habit) we take a further step away from developing the creativity we would all love to have, through a quick fix. It is far more honest to accept that we all find certain things boring, even necessary things, but we have to develop inner resources to cope. I am sure many of you will agree that there are many chores we have to just get on and do despite very low interest level – I often long for a Sunday night without ironing!

It is easy to fall into that trap of feeling guilty about not doing enough for your child and therefore planning activities and events to ensure they are fully occupied in all of their free time. Filling the house with music and noise equally provides a (welcome?) distraction from one’s own thoughts. It is no wonder then, that screen time (of every sort) has become a useful filler for those empty seconds of the day and the evening. As a teacher with 28 years’ experience I would say that children in general have shorter attention spans and more requirements to be helped, supported and constantly stimulated than ever before. Imagination is undervalued and children expect constant attention and reinforcement even to get on with what they can easily achieve alone. When faced with anything they don’t understand or feel to be hard work they say they are bored. This is one of the results of constant stimulation, it becomes an addiction, alongside an underlying nagging tiredness that creeps into children’s lives when they don’t have time for adequate reflection, rest and recreation.

Maria Montessori wrote about free play (which modern children often claim is boring) enabling children to become active and in an alert and receptive frame of mine, and she demonstrated that children are adept at self-regulating and managing their own rules, and that they performed better in all areas if they were allowed the full scope of their imagination. Children who can play without intervention, and manage their own time, are calmer, more thoughtful and are able to be more articulate as they have time to rehearse ideas and to think things through. They are able to make their own positive decisions and are far less reliant on adult approval before moving on or turning the next page over. Montessori went so far as to say that play is a child’s work.

Finally, children say they are bored for many reasons, but an important one to note is that they would actually like a little of your attention. When is the last time, for no real reason other than just for the joy of being together, you danced with your child?

How do we implicate children in their own learning?

This week I have been reading a variety of views about a learning and teaching strategy called mantle of the expert, an approach first proposed by Dorothy Heathcote in the 1960s. My first introduction was a series of blogs by Debra Kidd (links below), which caught my attention as they talked about engaging a group of 21 Century pupils in a learning experience through imagination and taking responsibility for solving a learning problem. The basis was I suppose somewhere between drama and role play, but with a real thinking experience.

These attractive articles started me thinking about what learning experiences we offer in the classroom each day, and also how much time teachers have to be reflective about the way they choose to teach for creativity, independence and enthusiasm. These characteristics are all too easily overlooked as the curriculum is so stuffed with facts, skills and knowledge that appear to need drilling, learning by rote and inculcating that the delivery of knowledge though old fashioned leaning and practising might seem to be the only time efficient and effective approach.

It would be so easy to forget that the pure content of the curriculum can mean very little in educational terms if it fails to challenge the child in a way that develops cognition, wisdom or intelligence. Without the engagement of thinking processes, adequate challenge, high expectations, fascination, time to problem solve, encouragement to think independently and to evaluate with real honesty and resilience, learning will be very limited. Learning, certainly for primary and younger secondary aged pupils, really means developing thinking skills, extending and enhancing vocabulary, improving thinking speed, working on listening skills, and building on the ability to concentrate in a variety of situations. Children that learn to love the world of books and imagination do better in public examinations. Pupils that ultimately need to retain facts and manipulate these to answer questions for GCSE and A Level perform far better if they have mastered that knowledge through teaching that demands something of them rather than hands something to them. 

Last week a visitor to Notre Dame School spoke to us in broken English, and rather quaintly, referred to our teachers being "implicated" in the education of the children. However, he was utterly right and I believe this to be a brilliant description: we are all implicated in the process of educating a child - but that must, if it to be of any long term use, mainly implicate the child as master of their own learning.

So I urge you read the blogs mentioned at the top of this piece,

debrakidd.wordpress.com/2013/09/30/bottoms-on-fire  and debrakidd.wordpress.com/2013/11/17/bottoms-up  as they remind us how important it is to create educational experiences that allow the child to take part in the learning experience and to learn by inspiration and instinct, creative imagining and having fun. I’m not sure if I wear the mantle of the expert, but I do know that good teaching must make use of every strategy it can to fully involve the children, and that will undoubtedly create experts of the future.

Why is it important to be cool?

This week it was my great pleasure to take Senior Girls’ assembly, from Year 7 – sixth form. Usually more used to speaking to children aged three to eleven, I decided the best way forward was a thought for the day, and here it is:

Before I give you my thought for the day, I’m going to start with some thoughts about what is cool. You might look at me and wonder what I know about being cool, but I do know quite a bit, mostly because I asked a lot of Year 9s to share their ideas with me.

Things were different in my youth. When I was at school ballroom dancing was the least cool thing ever.

Shirts with ruffles were sought after in the shops.

Short skirts were considered unfashionable. I remember hooking an elastic band around the button on my uniform skirt so that it could be worn as low slung as possible over my hips to make it fall well below the knee. The nuns in my school were literally chasing us about saying: “Roll that skirt over at the top it is too long!”

I was lamentably uncool in those days because I couldn't hang on to what was fashionable. By the time I had persuaded my mum to buy me the yellow cotton jacket that I had been going on about for months, it was considered last season, and I looked ridiculous again.

If there is one hard and fast rule about fashion it is that parents just don’t get it.

When I was at school various subjects were cool at different times. I’m not at all clear looking back what that was based upon, but I chose to do art because it was cool, even though I was not terribly good at it. I chose it because the cool girls did it. I didn’t choose music, which given how much time I now spend composing and performing might have been a bit short sighted, but nobody I knew was doing music so it wasn’t cool.

And that in a nutshell is the problem with cool. It is all based around what someone else thinks.

The Year 9 girls I spoke to (thank you - I will stick by the promise of anonymity -  I know it is not cool to have spoken to the Head of the Prep School) gave me some insight.

So these girls told me that cool is about someone really popular choosing something and everyone else following. Only you must not follow too obviously because that is not cool. Followers are not cool, so keeping up has to be done subtly.

I’m told that being cool is often about gossiping or rejecting other people, if they don’t do things that are cool. You can’t be cool if you are not on Facebook or if you dislike X Factor, or if even by mistake you somehow express an interest in the wrong thing.

You cannot be cool in the wrong clothes, even if you can’t afford what is cool or fashionable and it isn’t your fault. The worst thing about cool is that it changes all the time and it is difficult to keep up if you accidentally look away for a minute. I’m told this has impact on what clubs and activities are chosen, on which friends it is possible to have. It makes decisions difficult because you have to carefully check-up whether or not it will affect your cool rating.

Being cool can therefore be expensive, cruel and stressful as well as a source of pleasure. It can take away from friendship, because if you say too much, or you are enthusiastic about the wrong thing, or you make the ‘wrong’ choice over something unfashionable, you can find yourself cast away from the group and you will risk not belonging. Some people, with the wrong accessories or hair-cuts might just never have a chance to be cool at school.

I’m told that some people want to stick out from everyone else by being different. Different is cool as long as it sticks to certain rules. To be cool it has to have a particular style of its own, and never just be a little bit out of step.

I have been told that to appear to be clever is not particularly cool. And to be seen to enjoy school things is not cool unless it is drama or pop music - and fashion is important. It is apparently cool to be good at certain things if you are in a team for something or an award winner, but just to be good at something, or to enjoy it, just because you do, is somehow not supposed to be enough. Everyone I spoke to said they wished that this was not the case, because they all had ambitions and they wanted to do well in class, but didn’t always feel strong enough to stand up for themselves. Many had interests they couldn’t follow or express because it wouldn’t be seen as cool. One girl said that the worst thing she could think of was to be a “stick out”. When I got to this point in my discussions I began to feel really quite sad. I felt sad for people struggling to be cool, as if being cool really mattered.

So I want to share just a tiny secret with you all.

I am in fact, secretly, the coolest person I know. I love choral music, especially sacred music, and I sing at every chance I get, including in my church choir, which is not the best choir I have ever sung with, although the people are genuinely nice and incredibly welcoming. I don't do pop music. I like the kind of folk music that people have to wear woolly jumpers to sing, and with instruments that nobody has been making for the last two hundred years. And I've probably never heard of half the things you like. I am studying my third degree at university just for fun. I never wear make-up. I look this good naturally.

I like polishing shoes and gathering free firewood from the common, and I’m not bothered if you think that makes me weird.

I like loud shirts and patterned socks and pretty much anything that is purple. My idea of a really good time is a 4 hour Sunday lunch at my own table with old friends, most of whom are actually old, or spending a day reading about other people’s assorted views on education or life, or just walking on the common near my home in any weather just soaking up the great outdoors.

These are not the things that make me cool.

What makes me cool to most of the adults I know is that I am genuinely happy, and I have learnt that following my own paths, doing what I think is right and good, is something that fills me with joy and delight. I’m not talking about being selfish, or deliberately being different: I don't have much interest in making a fashion statement. I'm talking about accepting my place in the world, seeing my talents for what they are and being kind and compassionate and helpful to other people. I may be rather old fashioned, but it suits me. I thank God every day for the good things I have, and for being able to be myself. I like to think I have found places where I belong, such as this school. It is actually comforting not to be the centre of the universe.

What makes me cool in my own eyes is that I work hard at my job, which I love, and that I can honestly not care or even think about what makes me ‘on trend’. So I can spend proper time thinking about what I can do that helps other people, or makes me a better person. I have many wonderful valued and trusted close friends. I look after 300 small children every day and they trust me. I have many friends in and out of school, and they know they can rely on me, especially to make them laugh, or to look after them in a crisis. I have things I am good at and that I’m able to spend time enjoying, such as cooking and gardening, singing, running the staff prayer group, and I am realistic about them. That still doesn’t stop me enjoying a few things I am not good at, such as crosswords, painting and cricket. I also know which things are best left to other people.

I learnt a new word this weekend. And this word is cool:

 'Firgun' is a Hebrew word, meaning taking pleasure in someone else's success or good fortune. It is almost the opposite of what we have come to understand as cool, but I hope it will mean something to you.

My thought for today is that I think that the world would be a far better place if we all operated on Firgun rather than cool.

Do I need to get a home tutor?

One of the most frequent questions asked at parents' evenings these days is should I get her a tutor? 

Although I believe that suitably qualified tutors can be helpful for children with specific learning differences and difficulties, usually within the school or guided by the class teacher rather than externally, I have become concerned about the prevalence of engaging ‘academic’ tutors as a matter of course. I have known some teachers who I'm sure would be wonderful tutors, but others who have not been high achieving or successful in the classroom and would not be offering your child excellence or giving you value for money. 

One to one tuition at home, according to recent reports in the media, is as common as attending school. There are now more people offering private tuition than there are teachers in schools. None of these need to be qualified or to conform to reasonable standards. Having a Mrs Doubtfire demeanour, or a track record as a tutor for many years is not necessarily good enough. Companies exist to offer tuition at particular stages in the school career, to assist with 11+ entry, to prepare for public examinations, or just to top up what is being done at school. Many of these cannot guarantee results and an analysis of their success rates, for example in grammar school entry, correlate to the child's natural ability and the amount of rigorous rehearsal (which they can do with you or by themselves using resources bought from WHSmiths) rather than something magical these tutors have added in the many hours of paid extra. I have been frustrated by parents wondering why their children are making poor progress towards independent learning, when most of their child’s ‘individual’ learning is coached by someone sitting beside them. Whilst tuition can work for some, it is certainly not a panacea for academic improvement. 

It is worth remembering that tuition may actually be counterproductive: 

• Children who regularly work alongside a tutor soon learn that there is no expectation that they can, or should, manage independently. 
• Children used to tuition have a fear of getting things wrong and become reliant on instant praise, feedback, correction and support – failing to develop the resilience that is essential for effective learning. 
• Children who have intensive coaching for examinations often feel de-skilled and deeply demoralised if the tuition has simply raised them to an academic environment, set or school where they cannot really manage by themselves. 
• Tutors have no regulation: they may be wonderful, but there is no control over what they teach, how current their knowledge might be, or how effectively they work with children. 
• Ex-teachers may not be up to date with ever changing methods and syllabuses and can confuse their tutees, or give them conflicting methods or information to worry about. 
• Tutors are unlikely to have the same view of progression and continuity that the class or subject teachers have, because at school the teaching team will be working together to create something coherent in terms of learning strategies, linked knowledge and experience across the curriculum. 
• Home tutors will not be working from the plans for the year at school, and may worry you or your child about gaps and aspects of the syllabus that have simply not been covered yet for very sound reasons. 
• Tutors offering individual lessons often overstate or at least overestimate the ability of your child, who may cope extremely well in one to one sessions, but not necessarily in a classroom, or when later expected to work independently or under exam conditions. The confidence that a child shows the tutor due to close questioning, lots of praise, strong educational scaffolding and a coaching relationship is very different from the expectations of the school or during assessment. 
• Most worryingly, there are no safeguarding guarantees about an unregulated and unchecked person in your home. 

My advice as a Head Teacher is to use tuition only when advised to by the school: for supporting strategies for learning, for managing learning difficulties or in the short term for keeping the brain awake over long holidays. Make sure you have up to date references for anyone you invite into your home, and check on the qualifications and experience of the tutor. Grand results regarding other children are not helpful – that child may have a completely different set of abilities, skills and needs from your own. Tell the school if you have engaged a tutor, the most fruitful experiences will be those that mirror and complement the school curriculum. Visit the session each time to see what is happening, and if your child is overwhelmed, confused, tired or becoming reliant on too much ‘tuition’, support, praise or encouragement, then stop the lessons, they are simply not helping. 

Children who are doing perfectly well at school do not need to be discouraged by having extra work in their free time, nor another adult questioning their ability, impeding their ability to develop independent strategies and pressuring them over their results. 

A parent I have known for many years spoke to me last week about her reason for stopping tuition after eighteen months with a very nice tutor. She said that she popped in on a session to discover, not for the first time, that the tutor was simply helping with the homework the class teacher had set and already prepared, no more, and no less - for £45. She said she felt pressured into organising tuition because all her friends had a tutor for their children. I asked if she had booked the lessons so that her child could have different work, more help or just more practice, but she said she had left it all in the hands of the tutor who was well qualified and came highly recommended. She said had not informed the school because she didn’t want us to think her daughter was getting help. She said that she had just come to the realisation that her child was actually doing fine, and that she was no longer going to worry about the extra mark or two the tutor could wring from the piece of work. I applaud, and I hope that the saved money is used for a really enjoyable family activity. 

Education is a holistic thing. Would your child benefit from a tutor? Probably not as much as she would benefit from you reading to her each evening if she is young, or taking her on a weekly trip to the library, or for older pupils taking the time to discuss coursework, promoting rational argument at the dinner table and engendering an interest in current affairs. 

What did she get in the test?

In our lives today we are all subject to review and audit. It has become so much part of our culture that what we used to think of as our daily work has become something under endless scrutiny, and rather than allowing for inspiration, creativity, rehearsal, formation thinking, practising and self-improvement, we seem to be obsessed with attainment test results, and have forgotten that learning is a process and not simply a one off packaged ‘result’.

So, unfortunately, much of we do becomes an instant measure of our self-worth. My own mother, undertaking a Diploma in Botanical Art for the Royal Society, in her mid-seventies, was very upset when her 8.4 grade average dropped to 7.9 due to a ‘badly’ coloured leaf. “The tutor liked the leaf shape,” she told me, “But the depth of colour was not right in the leaf veins”. When I pointed out that 7.9 was 79% and probably an A grade she was surprised. Nonetheless she was ready to go on to do battle with herself in the next assignment, despite not having practised or had a chance to get the leaf right – because she thought she had to go on to the next thing, and try to get that right in one bash too.

For me, education should not be like this, I believe it is a long and thoughtful process. Yes, educationalists have talked for a long time about building blocks that found and build learning, but that must not be understood as each piece of knowledge being a brick in a wall in its own right. Most of knowledge, skill and discerned understanding comes in a web or network of interconnected ideas. It takes time to season. Given that education in school takes place over at least thirteen years, there is some time for a well educated child to benefit from a gradual unfolding of the world of knowledge. It is well proven that early or rapid success is not the best precursor to lifelong achievement: look at Einstein, Mo Farrah or Churchill!

At my primary aged school, we have embarked on a holistic programme of giving the girls an opportunity each week to work independently at a task, under the sort of conditions she would face in a test, but with the work that she is doing in class. We believe this has a number of purposes. The first is Formative, where we can see what the child can do unaided, where she needs support or scaffolding, where she can think for herself, where she can practise the little aspects of setting out she has been shown such as where to put titles and date if not instructed. The second is Ipsitive where the child sees how she has done over time, and is able to make a pattern of her progress, comparing not just results, but also how she copes with the experience. The teacher can create a pattern to see what is developing and what needs help. This is not a comparison with others, but a proper examination of the development of the child over time, by concentrating on her progress in relation to her ability and her journey. The third is Meta-cognitive where a child comes to understand for herself how she learns best, what helps her when she is learning and what she needs to remember. It is the often unnoticed part of the process, where children become aware of their own ability, their own strengths and the things they can do for and by themselves that make things go right when they do them, and wrong when they don’t. Each child soon gets the hang of how this feels, and is encouraged to look through the work to see what she could have done, herself, to do better this time, or for next time.

This activity is not designed to be Summative however. It is not a close of play event such as GCSE or A level, it is not used in the way an entrance test or formal exam might be. It is not used as a measure of success, although success is valued, alongside good progress. It is not a test to check up what was learnt before moving on.

My belief is that excellent teaching and learning must include this space for children to rehearse, to come to an understanding about their work, to begin and then to become skilled at managing on their own. If these opportunities are not presented young, and repeated regularly then real learning, real depth of knowledge, effective skills, creativity, self-esteem, confidence, resilience and inspiration will not develop. Tests certainly have their place, at end of term or year, between phases and as rites of passage. They are a useful measure for the outside world or for parents of what has been achieved in a reasonable space of time. But in between times I believe children should be allowed to learn from having a go, free from the fear of their own results.