Here I stand Part 1

Primary school education is about the curriculum, the real curriculum, developed in New Zealand in the 1940s, based on the interaction of the affective and cognitive, and evolved from teacher knowledge in shared process (see variously below, especially Part 3), not the one designed and imposed for hierarchical control.

[Beginning with Elwyn Richardson and Sylvia Ashton-Warner, The File provides examples of the real curriculum extending to ‘In which Pooh looks for a 21st Century Education’ (Attacks! 107, 112-113), which begins with the present and the future then reaches back to the ‘40s, giving close attention to a film made of a junior room in action.

This Labour government-made film is analysed to reveal the principles of the real curriculum. All the curriculum areas, as examples of the real curriculum, are given detailed attention: reading, mathematics, science, writing, drama, art, and social studies. Of particular note are the descriptions of a junior and senior classroom. These provide extended accounts of modern classrooms based on the real curriculum (Attacks! 71-77 and 78-85). The classrooms are ones in which the teachers have worked towards their holistic goals over a number of years, so for teachers who want to start out or move further along the real curriculum, ‘A Threshold Timetable’ (Attacks! 87-90) is provided.]

Quantitative academics, education bureaucrats, and politicians want a hierarchical curriculum to organise and control the system – since Tomorrow’s Schools they have been viscerally opposed to the real curriculum because it works on the intertwining of heart and mind, therefore can’t be manipulated or controlled to further their ideological and vocational ends. The primary school real curriculum is a wonderfully complex and beautifully sensitive entity, continually vulnerable to the most delectable of discoveries – it cannot be contained in a box. If the real curriculum predominates in the system, teachers have an assured place in it; if the hierarchical curriculum does, the bureaucrats, politicians, and quantitatives will continue to dominate it – with teachers divested of power, ground down, and allocated only token voice.

If the hierarchical curriculum has success, which has yet to occur, so is only illusory and concocted, the hierarchy claims the ‘credit’; if it has failures, which are endemic, teachers are blamed, and the hierarchy, perversely, are rewarded with extra powers for even more of the same.

However, why am I writing this? Who is it directed to? Is it teachers and principals? Labour politicians? The media? The bureaucrats, especially the group in control of the system, the education review office? Yes, all of those, but in a desperate and melancholy way, very much the media, though it is near hopeless. To make the whole area of education so much simpler for themselves the media take at face value whatever the bureaucrats, politicians, the quantitative academics (introduced as ‘experts’), technology advocates, and academic faddists (for instance, the ‘Summer Slump’) bring forward. The media are immediately biddable to these groups. If the media took even a mildly sceptical view of all those in education, that would require them to research, give thought, but what perilous territory they would find themselves in. How much simpler to believe in the unsullied motivation of authority. Except for some sentimental and patronising items, classroom teachers are invisible. The media, even an outstanding representative like Kathryn Ryan, never get even close to the heart of it. Below I will describe how, two days ago, Kathryn Ryan was trifled with by the education review office – it was disgraceful but, to us in education who care, is our reality. We just utter an internal scream, dismiss the impulse to jump from the bridge, hang in there, for what we are unsure, hanging in there, it seems, in the end, becomes an end in itself. Education, especially primary school education, is a battlefield. The propaganda production is typical of one of Orwell’s factories – the Education Success Factory or the Education Truth Factory. You would think that with the corrupt and muddled-farce of NCEA so clear to view, and with the plummeting results in international tests as against the absurdity of improving national standards results, or the Dunedin Monitoring Group’s finding that national standards marks are about 15-20 per cent below their own findings – the media would sense something very wrong in education. But the media can’t find a way through to something even close to the truth. The media have mainly succumbed to the view that anything new in education is good and worthy of a bumf item, for instance, computers and open plan.  Last week an ‘expert’ on open plan schools was invited by ‘Breakfast’ to answer a viewer’s question on open plan schools. Even though there is now considerable research to show there is nearly always a large gap between the ideals of open plan and outcomes, only this ‘expert’ was invited and all he did was repeat the usual open plan clichés. He was no expert, as to be an expert you have to know the real curriculum, and he didn’t. Just as education technology experts to be true technology experts have to know the real curriculum, but none do. To be an expert on a modish education idea and not know the real curriculum, is a contest with no opposition and the media is yours.

The ultimate victim in all this is the child.

In 1988, just prior to me leaving the formal education system to defend the real curriculum, I set out in considerable detail (Attacks! 93-95) why Tomorrow’s Schools would fail. It is confounding that the same system structure is being retained by Labour; one bound to fail for exactly the same reasons. Labour has, once again, gone for the bosses (explained below) as against classroom teachers. Labour, of course, will promise big change, but it won’t be fundamental.

If the overarching aim of school education in democracy is that it prepare children for life in a democracy and to support and protect it (as discussed and explained in Attack! 132), then the production and validation of knowledge must be shared amongst groups, with teachers major participants.

As my writing twists and twists and turns, it is quite understandable you might be a bit puzzled as to theme – there are four main ones: the present hierarchical system is about control mainly for subversive ideological ends; to counter this the main aim of education should be openly declared as being about supporting democracy; the way to get education right is to get the curriculum right; and education requires fundamental change. There are some related sub-themes: the first is my career-long love of, and respect for, classroom teachers, what they can do given half a chance, and have done. (To understand myself, my ideas, and my motivations, I have to remind myself that I never left the classroom, because I never really did – when viewing powerful people or in their company, I always looked at them through the eyes of a classroom teacher.) Then there are two interrelated sub-themes: school education is a battlefield, a fierce contest of will, ambition, and power rapaciousness. This may not be universal but it is widespread and, on the whole, a good rule of thumb for judging individuals in the hierarchy. How can I say this: under the present system a lot of alien values have been introduced, it is trending, as they say, in fact, galloping. This is why I identify with classroom teachers. The second interrelated sub-theme is that nothing in primary school education is as it seems, all is laden with complexity, layer-on-layer, and mystery – that is unless you happen to be imbued with knowledge of the real curriculum, then all is revealed. I’ll give you two examples: both open plan classes and computers, on the whole, are hindering real learning. How to tell whether or not? Well, when you are imbued with that knowledge, you can tell in a flash whether real learning is using the computer and the open plan architecture for its educationally valid purposes; or the computer and open plan architecture are using real learning for theirs, and compromising it. In the late ‘80s, when I was a senior inspector of schools, knowing the real curriculum told me in an instance, that Tomorrow’s Schools was going to be both an education failure, and wrong (in relation to the aim I set for school education – see above). I immediately sat down and set out my predictions and what adds up to a personal manifesto and made preparations to leave the formal education system.

Teachers are unsettled by the possibility of curriculum and administrative ideas being able to be passed quickly down the hierarchical chain without those ideas requiring teacher involvement at all stages of development. The best ideas for education come from teachers and those close to teachers. The part of the education system that is important to teachers is the part close to them. The part further away has the capacity to do much harm, but little capacity to do much good. The nature of the education system should protect teachers from hastily conceived ideas – no matter their potential benefits. Good ideas are only good if the process for their development has been good. The last thing teachers want is the kind of efficiency that has someone in the hierarchy having an idea and then using the chain of command to force it on them.

If teachers continue to be in a position of disadvantage in relation to knowledge, then they will continue to be at a disadvantage organisationally within the system. That is not good for teachers and children. What is the good of every other adult group in the system – including principals who identify more with the hierarchy – having a great time, when it is teachers who, in the end, deliver the goods?

The following is how, in 1988, I described the power-sharing situation in the years from the ‘40s to Tomorrow’s Schools (Attacks! 93-95). There were, of course, fluctuations and flurries, but the consensus held fairly well. I saw it as ideal and still do.

For a democratic, participatory education system, production and validation of knowledge should be shared amongst a number of groups. One of the reasons why New Zealand primary school classrooms function as well as they do is because of the checks and balances inherent in the system. Those checks and balances derive from the relative co-operativeness in the way groups relate to one another. No group can carry out its functions without the support of a number of others, and no group can force its will on another. Ultimately, though, it must be acknowledged that what the government wants, the government gets, but what the government wants can be modified by those outside the government educating the public to influence the government – success in this being the measure of teacher organisations. But that basic consideration aside, university lecturers, department of education, district inspectors, those delivering advisory support, publishers, school boards, research organisations, service organisations, and teacher organisations – all these groups are to some extent dependent on other groups for carrying out their functions. In the absence of the inevitable conflict and control behaviours generated by a strict hierarchical system, these groups have been able to remain mindful of the need to negotiate in a spirit of goodwill to proceed.

Through the 1950s to the 1980s this kind of knowledge and power sharing relationship functioned to a greater or lesser degree. Even when it functioned to a lesser degree, there was a characteristic inherent in the New Zealand education system that kept it going. That characteristic was that all parts of the education, from principal in schools to the head of the education department were staffed by people who had experience in the primary curriculum, knew the primary curriculum, and had a commitment to and respect for it. And then there was the productive connection between the head office of the education department and inspectors of schools and the cluster primary school professionals functioning in the regions: advisers, special education, and universities.

This is the pointer to where primary school education was most seriously undermined by the Tomorrow’s Schools’ philosophy and to where fundamental correction is required.

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A coherent analysis would require Labour to respond in a coherent way

Labour has made a timid, philosophically fragmented start to its primary school policy implementation; and one that looks destined to continue. From a consideration of its recent history we should not be surprised. It is a political party that ever since the Tomorrow’s Schools debacle (and the immediate lead-up to it, of course), while all the time putting itself forward as the party of education has demonstrated a lack of understanding of primary schools and what democratic education structures look like. It has taken decades to shake itself sufficiently clear of the neoliberal (Treasury-originated) philosophy to gain even a sliver of recognition that there was, indeed, a philosophy driving Tomorrow’s Schools, and one generally considered antithetical to Labour’s philosophy overall.

Readers of my postings will be aware of my predictions made in 1988 just before I left the system – all of which came true – predictions anyone in education could have made (though few did), requiring only an understanding of the curriculum, the real curriculum, and being an independent thinker. For those people it was as though written on a screen. But we were crushed by the Labour government, NZEI, NZPF, and the media.

Forty years before Tomorrow’s Schools, from a combination of favourable circumstances, New Zealand broke through to universal truths about primary school education. If 40 years seems a long time, I remind readers that the neoliberal philosophy has been in control for 27 years and, because of the dead-set determination of one government and the flabby-mindedness of the other, set to be a menacing presence for years to come.

Why hasn’t Labour undertaken a coherent analysis of why primary school education is in free fall and, in particular, why Maori and Pasifika education is in such a broken state? – the reason why is that a coherent analysis would require Labour to respond in a coherent way and, under Chris Hipkins, it doesn’t want to – Labour in education is still of the education establishment. It is still more with the education review office, the ministry, and teacher organisations than with teachers and children. I want to point out we are talking of children’s lives here. Labour has betrayed one generation of primary school children in which the vulnerable in particular suffered, and looks unlikely to be willing to undertake the hard thinking to avoid this happening to another? Labour has done well helping vulnerable families financially but is set to fail their children if and when they attend school.

Before the election I was walking to Clarence Street Theatre for a Jacinda election meeting and started chatting to a former Labour cabinet minister (I had published poems written by his ex-wife), in the course of which he said how grateful the Labour education caucus was for the contribution of a particular NZEI executive member. I sighed to myself, not because the ideas he put forward would have been bad, far from it, but because they would be lacking in philosophical coherence. And so it came to pass with Labour’s policy.

Where is the urgency: the understanding to recognise how trivial and misdirected so much of teaching in schools is?

Above all, NZEI needs to be reformed and made democratic. What an institutional disaster. An executive immune to challenge by its members; but an oh so willing partner to National in education injury. What has NZEI achieved in, say, school funding? In school funding per child, primary schools are well below the OECD mean across 33 countries while secondary schools are slightly above. And if we look at where that money is going, it is not, for instance, to children with special needs, but to a multiplicity of bureaucracies.  As well, NZEI has tied Labour to hundreds of millions in continuing with communities of learning (they will be useful in a minor way under Labour but, on the return of National, it will be the end of primary education as we know it).  What was NZEI doing? What were they thinking? Does NZEI automatically fall for neoliberal education policies because a label of collaboration or co-operation is attached?

Where, apart from media releases, was its part in developing a context for change? Too busy being cosy with the government. Where was the anger converted to political pressure?

We have plummeted in international test results, and if the arts and thinking and wider education are examined we would find that equally pathetic. All contributed to by successive governments, all with no intensive challenge by NZEI. Does it really think of the children? Did it compare the hundreds of millions of community of learning waste against what that money would have achieved meeting children’s special needs and more individualised teaching for children who came to school needing to catch up on learning capital?

Teachers since the change of government have been confused by the mixed signals Chris Hipkins has sent, and in the absence of a clear positive direction, they have retreated into their failed past. Labour (along with NZEI), having fallen dismally short in establishing a context for education change is, as a result, playing political scaredy-cats. It’s a shambles. National standards were abolished but Chris Hipkins felt it necessary to say that schools are free to continue with them if they like. I agree, I want schools to have choice, but such a prissy comment is a sure sign of a minister of education concerned more about political ramifications than benefit to children’s learning. Chris Hipkins should have said something inspirational about evaluation, for instance, that the only way for evaluation to really work for children is for teachers to further develop their curriculum understandings and from that gain increased clarity of purpose.

Above all, both NZEI and the government refuse to work from a coherent philosophical base – to do so, they no doubt fear, would lead them to being confronted with situations and decisions hugely uncomfortable to their establishment impulses and relationships.

  • In the indecisive context being established by Labour, national standards, now orphaned from being national – as standards, are drifting around trying to find a home. And with easy success because teachers, in the absence of any alternative, are hunkering down with what they know, with the curriculum practices they know, with the standards they know (even if bereft of being national), and with assessment they know. Jacinda Ahern said be ready for an education system of creativity and imagination and for the special advancement of Maori and Pasifika children, but what do we have? fumbling and indecisiveness.
  • The education review office is the essence of neoliberalism. As such it is the guardian and principal user of national standards – developing them, imposing them, interpreting them, and vocationally living by them. And with national standards gone, national standards by another name are being planned. But the Labour establishment is still standing by the review office. New Zealand First, however, has a policy of change; if Chris Hipkins is too committed to the review office he should give the job to Tracey Martin (indeed, while they’re at it give the primary school portfolio to her).
  • National standards live in another way. Teachers, pathetically, and with NZEI support, can submit their evaluation material to a robot, resident in Wellington, named PaCT. But teaching and learning for myriad curriculum reasons do not need an extraneous process distorting relationships between them. It is another way national standards as standards are entrenching themselves.
  • Then there is the establishment’s (in particular, NZEI, the ministry, the education review office, Labour, National, private providers, digital providers, and the Catholic education office) refusal to give away its new neoliberal institution – communities of learning. As with Tomorrow’s Schools it was sold as an exercise in collaboration but it was soon exposed as an exercise in brutal bureaucratic command based on the imposition of standards. The election has given pause to developments but national standards live on, scores of community of learning achievement challenges, based on national standards, have been submitted to the ministry, and accepted. National standards, or whatever, are alive and well; the system is laden with them; surviving in the deep consciousness of teachers, principals, education bureaucrats, and always looking for expression.
  • I could go on, but I will stop with this one – the so-called digital curriculum. A curriculum development in which there were no curriculum experts present, only digital experts and enthusiasts but, even then, to rush it through, the digital providers were separated out and put in a room to complete.

Because I am so angry, I want to say this very quietly. Does the establishment grasp that school education is about children? I don’t believe deep down the connection for NZEI and Labour, as institutions, is resolute and heartfelt. How could they care about children and let the digital curriculum continue? The digital curriculum sets out digital steps and standards involving the use of other parts of the curriculum as its practice ground.  It is an abomination. The digital curriculum is an example of why New Zealand primary education is shattered. In a later posting I intend to go through the particular reasons why it is – with computer learning misuse being one of the major reasons. If computers were banished from primary school classrooms for two years it would be a rocket boost for all parts of the curriculum. The putting of digital experts into a separate room minus any expert curriculum experts, classroom teachers, is a metaphor for why we are where we are. Adult needs and concerns above children’s, and an exclusion of teachers and anyone else who knows and cares about children and their learning.

The digital curriculum, you see, was not the digital curriculum, but the curriculum with the digital at its heart – like a cancer.

But then, this will be dismissed as just Kelvin Smythe being a mad dog again.

Oh well, good luck as you go from success to success.

Happy New Year to all my readers

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I am not sitting on my hands: the cabinet paper is not enough

On balance, the paper by the minister of education to the cabinet removing national standards is useful, but not sufficiently so to make definitive philosophical change in the way National always does, and Labour has done twice, once with Peter Fraser and once with David Lange.

Schools have had 27 years of terrible curriculum advice and oversight and as useful as the cabinet paper’s abolition of national standards is, the greatly reduced role of the Education Council, and the setting up of an Advisory Service under the control of universities (readers of networkonnet will know, all three changes were at the top of my wish list), it is by no means enough.

A few minutes ago I rang up an absolutely grand principal to wish him well in his retirement. He said he had hopes for the new government.

I replied that the government will, indeed, do some very good things but it won’t be enough because so many primary teachers, as a result of Tomorrow’s Schools and its fetish with assessment and leadership, cannot teach because they have never been called on to do so. When I criticise the nature and quality of what is occurring in classrooms there is incomprehension at both a conceptual and practical level of where those criticisms are coming from. It is to me the tragic disconnect between our New Zealand holistic philosophy and the introduced, imposed neoliberal one.

I go into classroom after classroom and see template after template and worthless scratches in exercise books allegedly connected with reading, writing, and mathematics. Children being taught to read but not become readers; to grasp the mechanics of maths without being able to use them to maths good effect; to be involved in writing which remains forlorn in books, unmotivated in introduction, unused in outcome; undertake soulless and fragmented science and social studies in the name of inquiry. And so many children are being denied the transformative qualities of drama and the arts (think of the children who may have had a special ability at drama over the 27 years of Tomorrow’s Schools – nearly a big fat zero of those decades).

I know the few of the principals who have the inclination or the time (given schools are closed or closing for the year) to be reading this will ask, why are you banging away about this and especially at this time. My answer is that it is not really intended for you; it is a desperate call to the politicians who are making decisions – decisions I know, while looking good, are going to fall well short of the mark.

For New Zealand to slide so dramatically in international tests in a systems sense, really takes some doing. And it is decidedly pertinent that the Dunedin Monitoring Unit, which is being retained by Labour, scores its research at 15-20 per cent below schools’ reported national standards results. Goodness knows where we are in the arts, drama, science (though the Unit does include science) social studies, and genuine open-ended thinking.

I am making these points not to go over them again to harangue but to dramatise the need to make decisive, fundamental structural and contextual change.

Labour, as you will have read above, is abolishing national standards, making drastic changes to the Education Council, and setting up an advisory service.

But it is messing around with local and national assessment, and is likely to tie schools in knots and, most grotesque of all, allowing an unchanged education review office the power of official oversight. The education review office has signed off the huge percentage of schools as satisfactory in performance and assessment and has been the determining factor in what happens in schools, yet it is being left untouched. And in that time school performance has descended to the bottom of the Western world and, amongst a number of other fantastic deficiencies, what is not happening in Maori and Pasifika education. The education review office in visiting schools very rarely goes into classrooms and when it does, only cursorily – how well suited is it to contribute positively to the creativity and imagination the prime minister has promised schools? How free can schools be when a school control institution, in its reports, can end or severely curtail a principal’s career? If that institution writes to recommend a certain policy, that recommendation becomes a direction, why would a principal take a risk?  The oversight of schools should be restructured to get the right people to be able to take more of an advisory role. And amongst a number of other things, are the communities of learning. If they are continued then, on a change of government, they will simply be swung back to the form and purpose originally envisaged by John Hattie and the Treasury. Quite simply, if schools want more money, a lot more money, for Maori and Pasifika education, special needs, Maori language, lower class ratios, and pay rises – then community of schools will need to be ended. The teacher organisations should be invited to poll their members.

(And re assessment: on a systems level that should be left to the Dunedin Monitoring Unit and a reconstituted NEMP; on a local, left to schools, on the approval of boards – what an opportunity for originality and exploration.)

A moment I’ll never forget: It was January 1989, Tomorrow’s Schools was imminent, and the radio was full of it. A Maori woman was being interviewed:

What do you think about Tomorrow’s Schools?

I don’t know what I think about it, but I do know it is the government’s last chance to really help Maori. I must trust it, but it is its last chance.

I could have cried because I knew, despite the efforts of Maori, they were going to be, at the very least, wasted years. I am determined that there be no more wasted years for Maori, Pasifika, or any other ethnicity.

I refuse to sit on my hands.

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Here we go on phonics again

Ros Lugg managing director of The Learning Staircase uses the PIRLS result, no doubt in a way that will feel utterly sincere to her, to stir up support for her highly structured and commercialised phonics programme, blaming teacher training for the deficiency. Which is suspiciously adroit in the way it avoids alienating her potential customers.

https://www.stuff.co.nz/national/education/99672131/new-zealands-falling-literacy-rates-are-due-to-poor-teacher-training

It seems these days that the only way you can guarantee having your views expressed in the media is to have a business-rewarding axe to grind in combination with a learning panic of some sort. It’s usually computers but here comes phonics again.

Ms Lugg, is of course, is wrong in every way but, in saying that, she is tactically clever in being a reasonably moderate voice. Her declared concern, as it always is with this agitating generation-to-generation phonics bloc (Tom Nicholson and Bill Tunmer won’t be far away), is the bottom group of learners. Oh how their hearts go out to them, but the odd thing is they rarely mention deprivation, squalor, disorder, and truancy. No give them phonics.

Other countries will be referred to by the phonics panic-group; countries who use a heavy programme of phonics and how they have done so much better than New Zealand. (Finland, by the way, which doesn’t use phonics is near the top in all results but is never referred to. Their lips are sealed on this one.) But all those countries have more money spent on classroom teaching, lower class ratios, more teacher aides, different school structures and entry ages, and above all, less inequality.

When New Zealand primary schools went into Tomorrow’s Schools we were top in reading, near the top in writing, and middling in mathematics. With Tomorrow’s Schools (irrespective of what Ms Lugg says) came increasingly heavy phonics imposed and policed by the education review office; this heavy use is recognised in a round-about way by people who want more phonics by them saying we want ‘a much more structured and research-based’ approach and the like.

It is so all so boring but oh so potentially devastating to children. I will have available in a few weeks a publication that goes into all this and much, much more.

One prediction I recorded in 1988 was that with Tomorrow’s Schools, primary school results will fall in all areas, especially in creativity, thinking, and the arts, but also in the 3Rs which both tragically and ironically, Tomorrow’s Schools was particularly supposed to lift. It was an impossible hope because disempowering teachers to the advantage of bureaucrats and quantitative experts, and punishing and deriding teacher knowledge to the advantage of absurdly named evidence-based knowledge, was sure to fail.

I want to make quite clear that there is considerable ‘evidence-based knowledge’, and in New Zealand universities, that supports my view – a view that most children need only a dusting of phonics with the emphasis being on children learning by storing words in the brain and using the characteristics implicit in those words to read. So please Ms Lugg, don’t use the expression ‘evidence-based’ as if it is entirely at the disposal of your bloc.

Now Ms Lugg, a word about children with dyslexia (by the way, I did agree with your 10 per cent estimation), I nearly wept at what I took from your brief reference to them. In my publication referred to above, is an article by an academic with deep dyslexia, who, in reading my articles on holistic reading, was drawn to set out in brilliant manner the nature of the proper response to dyslexia. I consider it definitive.

In the two crunch paragraphs he wrote:

I have used phonics-based learning as part of working with dyslexic learners because, certainly, phonemic awareness is an indispensable aspect of written language literacy. It would be utterly wrong to exclude phonemic awareness. But in the end, the process of literacy learning for a dyslexic person is indeed broadly the same as for any non-dyslexic person. And what is broadly the same is not narrow phonics but wide, supported literacy experience.

Instead of reducing all literacy learning matters to phonics, we must trust in the brain’s plasticity in the context of rich and properly focused, well supported language experience. An abundance of well-structured, personally highly meaningful written language experience – experience that takes proper account of whole language insights and works synthetically within the context of real, contextually relevant, reading and writing – the dyslexic brain will, over time, re-programme adequately and the experience of dyslexia will be ameliorated – though never ‘cured’. What is key is the close support of dyslexic learners as they struggle with the details of language in their acts of real reading and writing.

I have been going into schools in an official (or as now, semi-official) capacity for exactly 50 years, first, as a teachers college lecturer then as a senior inspector, now as an invited guest (no fee charged) and I have seen the grandeur of the stjcs of old who took a balanced approach slowly being pushed out by the review office, careless principals, and ruthless qualitative academics.

Another prediction of mine in 1988 was that the education right-wing won’t mind in the least their ideas failing because they know politicians and academics will ramp up the propaganda so that the same failed methods will just be imposed more formally and stringently.

So Ms Lugg, if primary schools are failing because a highly structured and formal phonics programme is needed, could you explain why mathematics will be in a tail spin and writing at the worst level ever?

The problem is not phonics but the structure of education, the deepening social inequality, and the destruction of teacher knowledge.

I am visiting a middle-size school in a Waikato country town as a school inspector. The principal is towards the end of his career and is quite content to run a settled school and to have an uneventful tenure. One thing, though, he greatly enjoys is helping children with their reading. Some of these children are slipping behind in their reading, in other words, potential candidates for reading recovery; others are failing readers. They come to his office on a regular basis, sometimes in small groups, sometimes on their own, to read to him. He is patient, kindly, and interested. No particular reading techniques are employed. The most you could say is that he gives them plenty of time to work out any word they are struggling with. Their reading takes wing with him. The results are outstanding but, to me, not surprising, because I have seen the phenomenon occur many times. If you put a child or a small group of children with a kindly, patient adult, regularly, and in a settled environment, there will be a remarkable improvement in reading. What is happening is reading by words, not parts of them, and in a highly conducive atmosphere. The moral is: When adults try out reading ideas in such circumstances, the variable that brings success is not any particular reading technique – it is the situation and environment. I call it the RPE – Retiring Principal Effect. This effect comes into play pretty much irrespective of other circumstances.

The following are some of the ideas I would discuss with teachers to set up a rich language environment:

Some children will need more phonics than others, but the overall aim should be sparing

One-to-one is magic, the programme detailed below is intended to free teachers to provide more of individual time to those who most need it

Reading, like written language, offers a straightforward way to set up independent learning in an emotionally supportive atmosphere

Reading in a developmental classroom provides children with many choices.

An important part of that choice comes from the arrangement of the physical environment:

There should be a snug, relaxing reading area

A lively class and school library

At all teaching levels there should be plenty of reading on the walls around the room.

Complementary with the organisation of the physical arrangement:

Should be the freedom to use it

Children should be able to use resources and to get out books and read them on their own initiative

If they are in doubt about the propriety of doing so, they could make a request on the request board

No templates and no written comprehension

Lively open-ended discussion and drama activities should predominate

And reading should be seen as an all-day activity or writing, or whatever (of course you will be keeping an eye on it all)

The term contract is used to describe an informal agreement between teachers and individual children for certain activities to be undertaken by the children at a time, and pace, that suits.

If reading is, indeed, a highly valued activity:

Then the freedom to read should have considerable precedence throughout the day

Of course, it is not absolute freedom of choice

But teachers should go out of their way to accommodate that choice.

In a threshold developmental reading programme, children should have considerable choice in the materials they read:

A central reading philosophy will be the ‘I can read’ developed so beautifully developed by stjcs – a gift

Younger children should choose their Ready to Read and supporting reading materials, and have an even wider choice in their independent reading

Older children should always have an independent reading book on hand

And teachers should make it their business to know what it is, and celebrate it when completed

They should challenge children: What book are you reading at the moment?

They should further challenge children by encouraging them to widen the scope of their reading.

There are plenty of other opportunities for choice in reading:

If thematic reading is being taken, children should choose from amongst a list of journals, bulletins, books, articles, and so on

For activities at the end of reading there should always be a choice

Children should never do worksheets, templates, book reviews, written analyses, written-question answering, unless they have chosen to do so.

Children’s reading is enriched by having the stimulus of other children’s ideas –

As a result there should be:

• Shared reading using enlarged print books or sets of books

• Language experience

• Story reading to children

• Thematic reading

• Drama

• Partner reading

• Interactive reading using computers

• Story reading from tapes

• Song and poetry reading

• Investigative reading (using reference books and other reading material)

• Reading material on display around the room (often associated with partner reading)

• Certain reading activities within context (cloze, alphabet, matching, and construction of sentences

• Own written language reading.

This variety of reading brings further opportunity for choice:

Children can choose to continue with an activity in preference to a subsequent activity suggested by the teacher

Or choose to do an activity produced on their initiative.

The concepts of print should occur throughout the reading programme in a contextual way:

There is a tendency for teachers to become overly involved in the ‘pathology’ of reading

That is, analysing and making moves to correct reading failure

If a child is undertaking reading recovery, the key is the support the child receives on his or her return to the classroom.

Children with dyslexia should be taught reading employing the same reading principles as for all children, that is in context and with meaning:

But there should be generous amounts of one-to-one reading with the same person and, compared with some other readers, more attention given to the parts of words

On the understanding that children with dyslexia should be taught holistically, children, if possible, should be taught reading within schools rather than through outside organisations (I know this can be very difficult to maintain given the meagre allocation of special teaching funding, but that would be the ideal).

The greatest challenge in reading is not to teach children to read, it is to get them to enjoy reading:

A major cause of children not enjoying reading is a lack of fluency in reading

And a major cause of a lack of fluency in reading is learning to read in a highly structured, rather than a holistic, naturalistic way

Notice that boys who tend to receive the most phonics and for longer, tend to be non-independent readers when they get to intermediate

Highly structured teaching is an impediment to reading fluency and enjoyment in the longer term

Teachers should focus children on clusters of words and their meanings

Rather than on single words and their insides.

The best way for children to build up letter-sound associations is by participating in a range of holistic, contextual reading language activities.

The best way to achieve a holistic, naturalistic approach to reading is to:

• Build on, and maintain the ‘I can read’ attitude to reading

• Make reading enjoyable

• Undertake letter-sound association and word study subtly

• Encourage independence in reading

• Allow reading to occur at most parts of the day

• Use a variety of reading materials and experiences: enlarged print, shared books, individual readers, writing of language, reading of own written language, songs, poems, comics, language experience, computers, word processors, and so on

• See language as something that occurs throughout the curriculum and the day

• Make reading a highly valued activity.

Women in primary school junior classrooms, the ones who have been the heart and soul of junior class reading for decades, have been diminished in status and spirit by the structures of Tomorrow’s Schools and in particular by phonics-focused academics as an outcome of the bitter and long-running phonics debate. These women are in an increasingly weakened professional situation, and vulnerable to any future undermining by politicians, the media, bureaucracy, education lobby groups, community pressures, and the effects of a changed emphasis in the training of teachers on some campuses. I call this group of teachers the ‘balanced reading’ group. The philosophical antecedents to balanced reading going back to Clarence Beeby.

There was no doubt in my mind that the battle over the teaching of reading was a battle for the one remaining curriculum area in which primary teachers still retained the edge in control. And, of course, within the structures and philosophy of Tomorrow’s Schools, the academics, bureaucrats, and right-wing politicians were always going to win. Phonics was one way academics could leverage their way into a direct say in what happens in schools – for phonics-focused academics, teachers having the edge in control over reading was akin to there being a power vacuum. Political and socially conservative groups also knew that reading, because of its importance to the public and the way emotions can be stirred, was a key to reducing confidence in teachers and their representatives, and to helping them gain dominance over education. As a result, from time-to-time, you will find phonics academics forming unofficial alliances with conservative elements to further the ambitions of both groups. Teachers, to retain what little they have, need to be on guard against the collusion between phonics-focused quantitatives, conservative politicians, and commercial companies to produce book and computer programmes – programmes always riven with flaws and rigidities. Holistic reading requires highly skilled teachers, in free interchange with other highly skilled teachers in close relationship with their school communities. But these teachers have been seriously reduced in number by the actions of the education review office, private consultancies, and submissive principals.

I am just so sick of this one. When is Labour going to get going and fill the vacuum? All the old primary school antagonists are pouring in: the education review office, right-wing politicians, commercial interests, the media, and quantitative academics.

Posted in Curriculum, Schooling, Teaching | Tagged , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

A quiet pre-Christmas warning: We are in trouble

In 1988 I wrote a three-part series in which I predicted why primary school education was heading for trouble (which is about to be re-published); to live that warning, in 1990, I resigned at 51 years as senior inspector of schools, with a view to mitigating the harm of Tomorrow’s Schools and to preserve and keep alive the philosophy of education that is best for all children but especially children who come to school needing to build-up cultural capital.

Labour in recent decades has been hopeless with primary school education, that is because Labour, in being the party of education, thinks it knows (or even worse thinks NZEI knows), and that what is right will come naturally on assuming office. After all, how hard can it be? we are the party of education.

So things go in patterns.

Labour set up the education review office in 1990 to run education and they have ever since, with ministers only nominally in charge – the education review office turns out the same dramatically failed rubbish decades after decades, and Labour leaders, in the absence of any ideas of their own, follow along.

For instance, the review office has just put out a report on the ‘right way’ to teach reading, thus removing the chance of any other way of reading being permitted, it is not research, it is not progressive, it is just more bureaucratic propaganda. I’ve looked at other review office reading reports from over the years and there is no difference between those reports and the present one.

And while Labour drifts, the review office takes even further control; further ingratiates itself with the media and public, making it near impossible for Labour to bring in anything new, really new (not warmed up tripe), even if Labour got it into its head to do so.

The review office also comes up with the old education bureaucratic chestnut of teacher training being the problem. Teacher training is part of the problem because it is based to a T on the review office philosophy, that is on academics and ‘evidence-based truths’, and teaching to national standards (even if national standards are not there, to the inevitable substitute). And I see principals quoted as agreeing with the review office. But principals are on firmer ground in their blaming of national standards though I suggest they don’t push their luck because their reported national standards results went upwards, therefore in a decidedly different direction to PIRLS. How did that happen when PIRLS results dived? And if national standards were so terrible why did principals and NZEI go into a frenzy of support for CoLs for which national standards were their raison d’etre? And why are CoLs getting together to standardise how assessment will be taken? Are they utterly devoid of ideas?

The education iniquity of national standards is deeply entrenched, schools and teachers may give up national standards but still hold inflexibly to their associated practices (what else is there? is the seemingly quizzical response).

I do not believe in proscribing any particular philosophy or practice but I do believe in the free and open discussion and interaction of differing ideas.

A teacher came on the screen, obviously capable, but I disagreed with nearly everything she said. I say good on her and good on me; whatever, I don’t want bureaucrats proscribing who is right and whose ideas are forbidden, either hers or mine, I want the clash of idea freely expressed and undertaken.

For instance, the teacher said her children have learnt to read through phonics now they need to be taught to read to learn. I say children should learn to read what is meaningful and interesting to them from the start, even before they can read. And most children need a very light dusting of phonics because an emphasis on phonics is inefficient, problematic, and a beguilingly easy resort (though it can be something of a sugar rush), leaving a lasting ill-effect on children reading for meaning and interest in the long term. I believe children learn to read by storing whole words in their brain rather than piecing it together in bits as they go. And the idea of moving on to reading to learn is a destructive emphasis. It should be meaning and interest as ever. As well, I don’t believe in confusing reading with spelling. The teacher pointed out one particular year in which official records mandated a big learning jump – really? Is that good education child development. Look first at the child, to hell with the official.

This is all a hangover from the terrible education period of review office control of education, but now set to continue – the minister does not visit schools in rampant manner and hold principals’ career hostage pending sufficient signals of craven obeisance. It’s trumps to the review office: ministers come and go, but ha-ha, they hold all the cards.

There is a crisis in primary education, with all children, especially children from lower socio-economic levels, and affecting Maori and Pasifika children. But you wouldn’t know it with Labour. Where is the urgency? Where is the structural change? Where is the analysis of the disaster? (An analysis I have detailed for years in my posting.) Where is the vision? all fragmenting into trivia.

The thing is you cannot get Labour leaders to focus on the curriculum, to take it seriously in a real way.

When I personally challenged David Lange about the lack of direct attention to the curriculum and his hope for an imaginative one – he said it would flow from Tomorrow’s Schools structures. I pointed out to him that an imaginative curriculum was unlikely to come from the kind of structures established. Two years later he was reported as saying he was bewildered that the curriculum had not changed (it had, but for the worse). At a research conference, I bearded Phil Goff, associate education minister, as he walked across the quadrangle, he was trenchantly dismissive. When Brian Donovan (New Zealand First was in coalition with National) set up an inquiry into the review office mainly as a result of agitation through my magazine, but he was got at, and in facing the inquiry, my most virulent critic was Margaret Austin, a Labour mp (also, incidentally, Apryll Parata). Trevor Mallard was great friends with John Hattie, and Trevor, though a good guy was just intellectually and emotionally too much the man, to bend to primary to understand. And now Chris Hipkins, I know he thinks me wild and destructive … so it goes on. If Labour wants to help the groups it particularly wants to help, it won’t do so with timid nudges.

Schools are ineffably sensitive to any education system change. What appears the tiniest change at the top can multiply to severe dislocation for teachers and the curriculum at the bottom. In most Western countries, those in charge of education systems have devised a managerialist system of separating the administration of the education system and role of principal, from teachers and classroom practice. This is done by having those in administration inculcated in the values of the centre so that the values and purposes of schools don’t get in the way of the values and purposes of the centralised agencies. People are purposely chosen for administration on the basis of no experience in education, or no experience in that part of education, or being highly amenable to the centre’s values. From the centre’s view, this has the further advantage of desensitising those undertaking actions to the effect of those actions on schools, and of demeaning the value of the knowledge held in schools and the professionalism of those involved.

There is an urgent need for an holistic curriculum-driven leadership theory to be developed and advanced to challenge the managerialist-driven one. The managerialist leadership theory in education is about hierarchy of the sort that functions on the belief it knows; it knows how education works; how it can be organised and standardised into unproblematic and manageable parts; made utterly assured in its mission by the ideas of quantitative academics who also know. Curriculum-driven leadership is based on teacher knowledge, on commonsense through informed experience, on the value of variety in education, on education as part of life in a social democracy, on identifying the essences of curriculum areas, on a commitment to a broad-based curriculum, and on teaching and leadership being significantly an art.

The reality about principals and their knowledge of the curriculum was devastatingly and, in a way, inadvertently revealed in 2008 by the ministry publication, Kiwi Leadership for Principals, which said that most principals had lost touch with the curriculum even though (I would claim significantly ‘because’) they work 50 per cent harder than their overseas counterparts. This was entirely to be anticipated given the Tomorrow’s Schools’ stance that if principals got administrative systems right, the appropriate curriculum implementation would devolve from that. And an appropriate curriculum implementation did evolve from that – a curriculum appropriate to the way the bureaucracies worked, a way to make easier the way the bureaucracies worked, and a way to extend managerialism to schools. Unfortunately, it was a way that narrowed and reduced the curriculum for children. What took the place of a broad-based curriculum was the layering of classrooms and schools with measurable objectives: they were declared good by managerialists, just what the doctor ordered, what education should be about.

A crucial element of curriculum-driven leadership is establishing the essence of particular parts of the curriculum – the task for principals and teachers having discerned these is to believe in them and pursue their logic through to the implications for the administrative structures of schools. Leadership would, to a great extent, be the sum of those implications. For a broad-based curriculum, principals are central to the provision of contexts in which teachers will feel sufficiently free of constraints, and understood and supported enough, to teach in an imaginative and creative manner. Principals, however, in being drawn away from the curriculum, are increasingly vulnerable to challenging teachers administratively rather than where it matters, through the real curriculum. In curriculum-driven leadership, the challenge should come through an inspired view of the curriculum, not an unbalanced view of administration.

Posted in Education Policy | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

A schoolwide science experience

I demanded of Shay Noonan, principal of Morrinsville School, that he write up one of his schoolwide science experiences as I knew they exemplified in practice the main elements of the holistic. The schoolwide science experiences, along with other kinds of experiences the school provides, are powerful examples of open education, calling on principles long established in New Zealand – timeless – therefore inappropriate to be called ‘modern’ or ‘21st century’ or automatically associated with the tools and architecture connected to those labels (though computers were lightly used). The schoolwide experiences, however, directly confront the present-day obsession with that almost invariably puny, fragmented, and thought-numbing practice of ‘inquiry’ learning.

Show me the science

What started out as a discussion at a board of trustees meeting on the topic of sugary drinks and healthy drinking, evolved into a range of diverse science experiences for our children.

At the subsequent staff meeting I asked teachers to give consideration to creating a set of activities to help children explore ideas about the school’s drinking fountains.

I knew there was a possibility that it would veer off to a language experience rather than a science one.

But my catch cry in response, as ever, would be ‘show me the science’.

Teachers were asked to identify the science in children’s activities. To frame a viewpoint, teachers informally collaborated within their teams, or with colleagues, to identify science elements within potential activities the children might engage in. Teachers came up with ideas like children gathering information; sharing their ideas; interpreting what they were observing; surmising about things they observe, intuit, hear, smell, touch, and taste.

The expectation was that children would make their own suggestions about how to undertake their observations; make up stories about what they had observed; and work out ways of telling those to others.

And so it began.

There they were, children, including five-year-olds, determinedly setting out on walkabouts to find, reflect on, and tally drinking fountains.

In other words, as scientists they were observing and finding out.

The children shared their ideas first in groups, then in their class; made up charts; summarised observations; explained the observations and summaries; and acknowledged what still puzzled them about fountains and needed to find out.

Three five-year-old junior classrooms worked together and produced a video about where they thought the water came from, how it got into the taps, and what they found good and bad about the fountains.

The usability of the fountains became an issue.

It was interesting to see the children working in pairs or threes, chatting away about fountains, and what worked for them, and what didn’t, for instance, being able reach the top of the fountain to get a drink, or press the water button down hard enough to get more than a dribble.

The three five-year-old scientists were using the evidence they produced, that is photographs and videos of themselves using the fountains, to demonstrate the deficiencies as far as they were concerned.

The teachers shared amongst themselves their view of how the children were responding. The immediateness of the study, they agreed, was compelling to the children, allowing teachers to gain regular and open access to children’s personalities, behaviours, and thought patterns.

When the y. 6-y. 8 children explored the drinking fountains their engagement was based on questions they collectively built up in class such as ‘why do some of the fountains give you more water than others?’, ‘how can we find out which are the best drinking fountains?’, ‘how will we know?’, ‘how will we find out?’.

These kinds of questions produced an array of random, potentially fruitful, responses.

The y. 7-y. 8 children with typical ebullience decided all this was no problem for them, they would just measure the water when they pressed the fountain button.  But then they discovered they had to find ways of measuring that made sense. After a time they came to a conclusion that they had to be able to compare the water they gathered from all the drinking fountains.  What the teachers noticed was that as one solution was proposed, further obstacles were created that had to be overcome. This was genuine science.

Direct teacher interventions occurred in maths activities with volume and measurement.  Some children suggested turning on each fountain for a set time then making comparisons.  This led to further discussion, even argument, as the children tried to work out a manageable way.

It was noticeable at this stage that certain children’s expertise or knowledge formed the basis for others to take on to help in solving their problem, for instance, two children working together told the class that they were going to collect water, time themselves for 30 seconds, and then measure the amount of water they had in their container from the drinking fountain.  They subsequently found this solution inadequate because they had to adjust the size of the container, sort out their timing with the stopwatch, and then there was the small amount of water for the effort.

Some other children suggested they needed five minutes collecting the water from each of the taps.  Others thought that that would take too long and so the problem was tossed about among them. The eureka moment was when one girl suggested they collect the water for 30 seconds and then work out what that would be over five minutes.  This fitted in with the work they had recently done on rate, ratio, and proportion in their maths work.  The idea was cottoned on to and the class, working in pairs, collected their samples from all drinking fountains, measured them, and drew up charts for what fountains produced for five minutes based on the button being held down for 30 seconds.

Each pair worked on their charts and shared the results. They were gratified to find that most of the collected figures were consistent across their records for the nine fountains; also which were the better producers or not, or as one of the juniors said ‘two of the fountains were pakaru’.

The older children not only engaged in gathering and interpreting their data and using evidence to support their ideas, they critiqued the evidence with evermore critical eyes. They checked their results for reliability, asking each other questions about whether other groups were getting similar results to theirs. With these older children, the knowledge they established within the collaborative environment of the groups, was willingly shared to support each other in their solutions.

The experts were sitting someplace else in the room and they were not the teachers.

The y. 5 class got excited about measuring a ‘metre  container’.  They explained they wanted to make a big container to collect water and someone said a ‘metre one would be big’.  The question they had for their expert (whom their teacher suggested they needed) was how to get the metre measurement of water.

At the same time, the y. 7-y. 8 children were working on the cost of water charged by the local council ($1.28 per cubic metre).  The class had constructed from metre rulers a cubic metre.  In this way, the y. 8s became the experts and assisted the y. 5s to develop the concept of a cubic metre of water.

The thrill factor was evident as the y. 5s built their own cubic metre.  They also spent time seeing how many of their classmates could stand inside one.  But ‘how much water would this hold?’ was the question of the moment.

The y. 7-y. 8s and some y. 6s worked on how many litres fitted into a cubic metre.  A maths lesson was sustained for few days as they figured out ideas like the spoon used for medicine – 5 mls; the drink bottle – 300 mls; the 2 litre bottle of milk; and the mls-litre relationship – eventually talking about how many litres it would take to fill their cubic metre if it had sides on or was made of metal or plastic.

A group, had a moment of gigantism, and wondered what the swimming pool would hold.

The juniors mapped how they thought the water system worked in the school.

The y. 5s once again borrowed ideas from the y. 7-y. 8s and worked on the line of the underground water pipes.  Some pairs went as far as measuring the length of the line or, in the plumber’s explanation, the underground water pipes which he had laid ten years previously.  They used and followed the water line maps the y. 7-y. 8s had created for themselves.

The visit of the plumber stimulated a lot of questions, of which he was selective in answering: which way does the water travel? where does it comes from? can it go uphill? can it be made to? how is it made healthy? why does the water come out fast or slow? how big are the pipes? how did the council know how much water the school used? what happens if there are leaks? does the school have to pay? the questions kept coming.

Some classes visited the toby or point of entry for the water.  They saw the water counter clicking over as water flowed through the pipe.  They then split up and turned on some outside taps to see if the counter went faster.

One of my great memories was lifting the toby cover and observing the excitement generated amongst the children as they surveyed what lay below, and the animated questions and discussion that followed. I was relegated to that most admirable of teaching situations, redundant to children’s interested chat amongst themselves.

The toby investigation opened up new research possibilities about the school’s drinking water and water reticulation in general.

When we returned to the room, the children’s attention having been focused on getting ‘to know’, now turned to explaining it to others in other rooms. In response, ideas abounded about how water pressure was created and works.  Questions often remained unresolved though the curiosity remained.  Some explanations were not particularly accurate but they served the purpose of moderating and satisfying the children’s thinking, allowing them to move on.

‘The water is collected up the hill and flows down the high pipes and flows out the tap when you turn it on’ … ‘What does that mean?’ ‘What?’ ‘Turn it on? ‘You just turn it on …’ with a look of ‘What’s wrong with you? Don’t you get it?’ ‘But what do you mean?’ and off they went again.

Others suggested further explanations for pressure, ‘We use a pump on my dad’s farm …’ ‘What do you do?’  ‘The pump takes the water to the paddock.’  Another child tunes in ‘It pushes it from the river …’ ‘So is that what happens here?’ another one asked.  ‘We don’t have a pump,’ someone remarked.

These snippets would hardly make sense outside the social context of the science being learned.  It was situational ‘good oil’.

What followed were mini-experiments with water in a jar and a tube … bird feeder (water).  Question: ‘How come all the water doesn’t come out?’

It would be difficult to plan for any of this I thought as I watched what was going on during these encounters [Shay teaches mathematics or science every day].  There were times when children became frustrated with either trying to find information or how to turn a problem into mathematics, for instance, tracking the underground water pipe lines and figuring out their actual length.  Finding the solution to this question resulted in them seeking information from a group of children in another room who had just completed the same kind of activity.  The older children thought it would be interesting to know in more detail about the layout of the pipes so that they could locate on their map of the school where exactly they wanted the new drinking fountains placed.

Classes were tasked with identifying possible options for improving the school’s water fountains.  The designs for this were creative and in some cases radical but they were an indication of how the children’s imaginations had been stimulated. The children also accessed their chromebooks to extend their ideas about various drinking fountains found around New Zealand.

The younger children were particularly fond of their designs.

‘Show me the science’ – in answer I saw it in the final designs the children were making, in the gathering and interpreting information, pictures, websites and, above all, in the evidence they had gained in a science way (observing, thinking, and weighing things up). I also saw it in their ideas for designs, and asking each other how do these work, that is, deliver water?

I am reminded of the five-year-olds who made numerous trips around the school assessing the drinking fountains and recording their ideas on charts.  I saw children working on improving their investigations particularly in identifying which fountains they were retaining and which to remove.  These children did not just surmise or guess but designed a scientific approach to measuring the effectiveness of the drinking fountains.  They developed their own research processes, building on the information they had gained, and demonstrating that they knew what it meant to organise a scientific test and to report on it.

The language that they used demonstrated connections within the language of the investigation.  They drew up lists of key words associated with the idea of water and drinking fountains and were heard using them during their discussions.  They were able to communicate their observations to each other and to explain their diagrams and representations of what they were doing.

It was all very noisy, very messy, but very exciting.

My intention was to provide an opportunity and context where children could engage to make connections with science in their environment, to learn how science activity affects life, indeed their life. I delighted in the idea that that in the process of undertaking this science, the children were keenly telling their parents what they were doing, why they were doing it, and the ambitions they had for the outcome.

Posted in Curriculum | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

Jacinda: Labour’s school education reforms look set to fail

Memo:

Other than the abolition of national standards, the last time I heard anything hopeful and inspiring about Labour’s school education reforms was when you said that creativity and imagination was about to return to schools.

Your minister of education categorically failed in the lead-up to the election to explain how and why New Zealand school education was in difficulty. He will think I’m picking on him, but I’m not, I’m pointing out stark reality. I have waited and pressed for this political opportunity for decades and Labour is fumbling it.

https://networkonnet.wordpress.com/2017/04/15/if-chris-hipkins-cant-do-it-give-it-to-kelvin-davis-part-1/

https://networkonnet.wordpress.com/2017/04/16/if-chris-hipkins-cant-do-it-give-it-to-kelvin-davis-part-2/

Politics is about politics, even, indeed especially, the politics of education. And by politics I don’t mean lying or exaggerating, I mean putting previous governments to honest but searching scrutiny. Where was the intensity and passion?

School education, especially primary school education, is in a spiral: where has been analysis of Maori and Pasifika achievement? Education is Labour’s nominated partner-in-solution to poverty (along with improved income) but it is a faltering one.

You are right, the outlook on creativity and imagination is a desiccated one.  And under the previous government, in the basics, their supposed priority, primary schools slipped to the bottom of the Western world. But only a fainthearted peep here and there from Chris Hipkins. He was, I think, concerned about offending the teacher organisations.

Chris Hipkins should have been out there kicking up merry hell but he is utterly unable to do so, his personality, it seems, won’t permit it, perhaps he doesn’t feel the pain – he much prefers the cosy world of the teacher organisations.

The abolition of national standards was well accepted but their abolition did not have a dynamic impact because no context had been or was provided.

But I don’t want to dwell on that calamitous lack of a critical contextual launching pad for Labour’s reforms.

The announcement of the abolition of national standards came and went; followed by bits and pieces: one of those bits and pieces being when children can begin schooling (and fair enough) but where was the accompanying persuasive laying out of the argument for the return to long-established practice? Then the minister of education felt it incumbent to say schools can continue with national standards if the feel they want to – I agree – but why bring it up? Then there was a titbit about NCEA. All this and more is an ominous augury for what is to come.

Where is the overall strategy to go with the key reform of the abolition of national standards? Most teachers and principals have only experienced the paralysing hold of the review office and national standards. They are being abandoned. They need both practical and inspirational help to lift themselves out of the curriculum rut.

The overall strategy for Labour to follow is not difficult to establish: it is locate the key neoliberal educational policies and change them to democratic and progressive ones.

By definition, neoliberal education policies cannot be good for children or democracy, so Labour should track the main neoliberal drivers and replace them.

In this respect, above all, the review process must be restructured with each team for a school visit comprising a permanent member and principals and teachers trained for the purpose. You cannot have creativity and imagination fostered if the present personnel and the present review practices are persisted with.

The review process should also be brought into the ministry – separating policy function from the review one is pure neoliberalism.

A sharing of the control of knowledge is central.

Where are the advisory teams of top-notch creative teachers attached to universities? Surely Labour is not relying on those purveyors of commodified knowledge – the private companies?

The major teacher organisations are important in this. I know this might seem at odds with my warnings about Labour getting too close to the teacher organisations, but they are what we have and, who knows, their open involvement in curriculum policy might be formative for them and eventually beneficial to education.

A monopoly of education knowledge by bureaucrats and selected academics must be ended and university appointments and courses changed.

Communities of Learning, which originated with John Hattie and Treasury, were clearly being converted to neoliberal purposes (and will be again if Labour doesn’t act decisively); Labour must bite the bullet and abandon them or scale them down mightily, with the money saved being spent on drama and arts specialists working amongst a designated group of schools, also Maori and Pasifika languages, mathematics and science. (Teacher aides and children with special needs must also be a priority).

In a sense, it is not too late to rescue the reforms, but in contemplating the record and personality of the minister of education, it looks near hopeless. This warning, I know, will be dismissed as the declarations of a noisy, uncompromising commentator; while that may, indeed, be my personality, I invite my critics to contemplate my record.

Posted in Education Policy, Political | Tagged , , , , , , , | 4 Comments