A reader yesterday wanted to draw attention to what she or he called research which had been, 'buried'. Whichever government it was which supposedly buried this research, they cannot have made a very good job of it! Here it is:
http://bgfl.org/bgfl/custom/files_uploaded/uploaded_resources/18617/desforges.pdf
In fact, this is often referenced in reports by both central and local government. I'm not sure in what sense it was buried. It has, incidentally, little to do with home education.
Showing posts with label education. Show all posts
Showing posts with label education. Show all posts
Monday, 2 December 2013
Monday, 18 November 2013
Monday, 9 August 2010
The curse of romanticism
To hear some home educators talking, one would imagine that maintained schools in this country are like Mr M'Choakumchild's school in Hard Times. They evidently think that a government inspector in the mould of Thomas Gradgrind is overseeing all the schools, saying: 'Teach these boys and girls nothing but facts. facts alone are wanted in life. Plant nothing else, and root out everything else'. Sadly, nothing could be further from the truth. Schools in this country are, more's the pity, riddled with the romantic view of childhood which Rousseau did so much to spread in the late eighteenth century. Our schools are still full of primary teachers who view fooling around with a lump of plasticine as an adequate and acceptable substitute to learning to read and write and perform the four basic arithmetical operations.
Rousseau has much to answer for. Until the eighteenth century, schools were places where children went to learn. Culture and knowledge were transmitted vertically from one generation to the next in the most efficient way that could be devised. These were the halcyon days before the muddle-headed notion of child-centred education had been devised. In those days, books were seen as being the most valuable educational tool and it was from them that most knowledge was expected to be acquired. Reading and the study of books was thought to be virtually synonymous with the very word 'education'.
Rousseau expounded his educational philosophy in Emile. This set out a blueprint for what we would today call a child centred education based upon play and self discovery. Among the most important ideas was that knowledge was to be acquired by experience rather than teaching. Children were to learn without being taught. Books are to be avoided, they are 'the curse of childhood'. This gave birth to an educational movement which had a very ambivalent attitude to books and the facts learned from them; a suspicion and distrust which lives on to this day among those who believe in 'child-centred' education. They hoped that nature would herself be the teacher and that real life would be the classroom. As Shakespeare said, 'there are books in running brooks, sermons in stones'.
Two of Rousseau's most enthusiastic followers will be familiar to teachers; Pestalozzi and Froebel. Together, these two fleshed out the ideas sketched by Rousseau and crafted from them an educational philosophy which still has great influence today. An example of the sort of thing which these two pioneers tried to foist off on us is Pestalozzi's belief that children's personalities are sacred and are what give them their inner dignity. Of course the problem arises if a child has a personality which makes him into a little thief or liar. Or perhaps if she is vicious or idle. In that case, we might not treat the child's personality as being sacrosanct and try to change it. This is called education and although such a view is no longer fashionable, there are still many who feel that a large part of education consists of getting children to drop their natural impulses and conform to the mores of an ethical system. In the romantic view of childhood which people like Rousseau encouraged though and which many teachers and parents today embrace; children are basically innocent and good. This view of the inherent goodness of children and the holy worth of their personalities was a reaction to the Christian doctrine of original sin, which regarded all children as young limbs of Satan.
When the Romantic Movement took off in a literary and artistic way, the ideas of Rousseau about childhood and education were adopted and soon became entrenched. 'Nature' was seen as being sacred and the best education was thought to be one which was 'natural', gained through the real world and not in some musty schoolroom. It is to this strand of pedagogy which many modern home educators adhere. However, it is not only home educators who feel this way. As I said earlier, most teachers in this country have the same idea at the back of their minds, despite the countless government initiatives designed to force them to teach the children in their care more effectively.
It is a curious irony that while many home educators refuse to send their children to school because they are afraid that the little darlings will be pressured and taught too intensively, there are others like the present writer who eschew conventional education for precisely the opposite reason. I regard modern schools as hotbeds of the most virulent and damaging form of romanticism; others see them as Dickensian places where the spirits of the innocent are crushed beneath the weight of facts which they are forced to absorb.
Rousseau has much to answer for. Until the eighteenth century, schools were places where children went to learn. Culture and knowledge were transmitted vertically from one generation to the next in the most efficient way that could be devised. These were the halcyon days before the muddle-headed notion of child-centred education had been devised. In those days, books were seen as being the most valuable educational tool and it was from them that most knowledge was expected to be acquired. Reading and the study of books was thought to be virtually synonymous with the very word 'education'.
Rousseau expounded his educational philosophy in Emile. This set out a blueprint for what we would today call a child centred education based upon play and self discovery. Among the most important ideas was that knowledge was to be acquired by experience rather than teaching. Children were to learn without being taught. Books are to be avoided, they are 'the curse of childhood'. This gave birth to an educational movement which had a very ambivalent attitude to books and the facts learned from them; a suspicion and distrust which lives on to this day among those who believe in 'child-centred' education. They hoped that nature would herself be the teacher and that real life would be the classroom. As Shakespeare said, 'there are books in running brooks, sermons in stones'.
Two of Rousseau's most enthusiastic followers will be familiar to teachers; Pestalozzi and Froebel. Together, these two fleshed out the ideas sketched by Rousseau and crafted from them an educational philosophy which still has great influence today. An example of the sort of thing which these two pioneers tried to foist off on us is Pestalozzi's belief that children's personalities are sacred and are what give them their inner dignity. Of course the problem arises if a child has a personality which makes him into a little thief or liar. Or perhaps if she is vicious or idle. In that case, we might not treat the child's personality as being sacrosanct and try to change it. This is called education and although such a view is no longer fashionable, there are still many who feel that a large part of education consists of getting children to drop their natural impulses and conform to the mores of an ethical system. In the romantic view of childhood which people like Rousseau encouraged though and which many teachers and parents today embrace; children are basically innocent and good. This view of the inherent goodness of children and the holy worth of their personalities was a reaction to the Christian doctrine of original sin, which regarded all children as young limbs of Satan.
When the Romantic Movement took off in a literary and artistic way, the ideas of Rousseau about childhood and education were adopted and soon became entrenched. 'Nature' was seen as being sacred and the best education was thought to be one which was 'natural', gained through the real world and not in some musty schoolroom. It is to this strand of pedagogy which many modern home educators adhere. However, it is not only home educators who feel this way. As I said earlier, most teachers in this country have the same idea at the back of their minds, despite the countless government initiatives designed to force them to teach the children in their care more effectively.
It is a curious irony that while many home educators refuse to send their children to school because they are afraid that the little darlings will be pressured and taught too intensively, there are others like the present writer who eschew conventional education for precisely the opposite reason. I regard modern schools as hotbeds of the most virulent and damaging form of romanticism; others see them as Dickensian places where the spirits of the innocent are crushed beneath the weight of facts which they are forced to absorb.
Saturday, 5 September 2009
Schooling or education; a personal rant
I simply had to talk about this. A friend of my daughter who has just finished his AS level in English Literature studied the Tom Stoppard play "Arcadia". He wants my daughter to go to London and see it with him next week. But get this, his parents are really irritated with him and say that he is wasting his time because he has already sat the examination on this play. What on Earth is the point in his going to see it now?
For me, nothing could encapsulate more neatly the difference between modern schooling and education. The only possible reason for studying literature has nothing whatever to do with culture or education. The sole, direct and immediate purpose of looking at a play or novel is so that you can spend an hour and a quarter writing about it in June. Of course there would be no point actually seeing the play in September. Why would you, you won't get any extra marks for it?
This is not an isolated example, but typical of what I hear from other teenagers who are at school and college. Suggest to a fifteen year old who is doing "Pride and Prejudice" for GCSE, that she might enjoy other books by the same author, say "Emma" and she will look at you as though you have taken leave of your senses. Often, the teachers tell them not to bother with anything outside the syllabus. For instance the English teacher at a local school whose pupils were "doing" Great Expectations, told them not to read the whole book. It would take too long and they only needed to be familiar with certain chapters. Children will say, "I don't need to know that". or "Miss said not to read that". The ultimate in utilitarian education; I don't "need" to know that.
For me, and I suspect many other home educators, this is the opposite of education. It is not just in English Literature that this appalling state of affairs is the norm. Every subject is studied, not because it might shed light on the human condition or help us to think like civilised beings, but because it is on the syllabus. As Mr. Gradgrind said in "Hard Times", "Teach these boys and girls nothing but facts. Facts alone are wanted in life. Plant nothing else , and root out everything else."
For me, nothing could encapsulate more neatly the difference between modern schooling and education. The only possible reason for studying literature has nothing whatever to do with culture or education. The sole, direct and immediate purpose of looking at a play or novel is so that you can spend an hour and a quarter writing about it in June. Of course there would be no point actually seeing the play in September. Why would you, you won't get any extra marks for it?
This is not an isolated example, but typical of what I hear from other teenagers who are at school and college. Suggest to a fifteen year old who is doing "Pride and Prejudice" for GCSE, that she might enjoy other books by the same author, say "Emma" and she will look at you as though you have taken leave of your senses. Often, the teachers tell them not to bother with anything outside the syllabus. For instance the English teacher at a local school whose pupils were "doing" Great Expectations, told them not to read the whole book. It would take too long and they only needed to be familiar with certain chapters. Children will say, "I don't need to know that". or "Miss said not to read that". The ultimate in utilitarian education; I don't "need" to know that.
For me, and I suspect many other home educators, this is the opposite of education. It is not just in English Literature that this appalling state of affairs is the norm. Every subject is studied, not because it might shed light on the human condition or help us to think like civilised beings, but because it is on the syllabus. As Mr. Gradgrind said in "Hard Times", "Teach these boys and girls nothing but facts. Facts alone are wanted in life. Plant nothing else , and root out everything else."
Thursday, 27 August 2009
But what about laboratories?
One of the reasons that teachers find home education so threatening is that it proves their services are not really as vital to society as they would have us believe. The great myth which they encourage society to embrace is that learning and education can only take place effectively within huge buildings full of specialised equipment and staffed by highly trained professionals. This is quite untrue.
I have been prompted to write this by my daughter's latest IGCSE results, which were A* in Physics and Chemistry. When friends of mine, mostly teachers and social workers, learned that I was planning to continue her education past primary age and to teach her to IGCSE level, there was a great shaking of heads and sucking in of breath in shocked amazement. Almost to a man, and woman, they said when the subject of teaching science came up, " But what about laboratories?" . The idea being that nobody could possibly study science unless they had a very large, expensively resourced room in which to do so. Well, my daughter has now acquired Biology, Physics and Chemistry IGCSEs, all at A*. What happened?
What happened was that we discovered, as others have done before us, that like every other academic subject, science can be tackled on the kitchen table just as efficiently as in a laboratory. Indeed, it can be tackled far better in this way. In a typical school science lesson a carefully conducted experiment might call for the addition of citric acid to another substance in order to observe the reaction. In the kitchen, this can be extended to the addition of ethanoic acid (vinegar), ascorbic acid (Vitamin C) and then any other acids which might be in the cupboard. There is not a single part of the GCSE syllabus which cannot be pursued in the kitchen at least as well as in the most up to date and modern school science department.
I have given science as an example, but the same is true of any other subject, from Music to Acting, History to Food Technology. There is not a single academic subject which cannot be more effectively tackled at home than it can in the best school. Teachers are anxious in the extreme that this dangerous knowledge does not become generally known! The reason is obvious. The key to academic success lies not in the spending of ever increasing sums of money on electronic whiteboards and other expensive gadgets. Instead, it lies in quiet, methodical one-to-one instruction, the type of tuition which home education is uniquely well placed to provide for a child. No wonder that most teachers seem to be implacably opposed to home education on principle; it strikes at the root of their identity as uniquely invaluable educators of the nation's young people.
I have been prompted to write this by my daughter's latest IGCSE results, which were A* in Physics and Chemistry. When friends of mine, mostly teachers and social workers, learned that I was planning to continue her education past primary age and to teach her to IGCSE level, there was a great shaking of heads and sucking in of breath in shocked amazement. Almost to a man, and woman, they said when the subject of teaching science came up, " But what about laboratories?" . The idea being that nobody could possibly study science unless they had a very large, expensively resourced room in which to do so. Well, my daughter has now acquired Biology, Physics and Chemistry IGCSEs, all at A*. What happened?
What happened was that we discovered, as others have done before us, that like every other academic subject, science can be tackled on the kitchen table just as efficiently as in a laboratory. Indeed, it can be tackled far better in this way. In a typical school science lesson a carefully conducted experiment might call for the addition of citric acid to another substance in order to observe the reaction. In the kitchen, this can be extended to the addition of ethanoic acid (vinegar), ascorbic acid (Vitamin C) and then any other acids which might be in the cupboard. There is not a single part of the GCSE syllabus which cannot be pursued in the kitchen at least as well as in the most up to date and modern school science department.
I have given science as an example, but the same is true of any other subject, from Music to Acting, History to Food Technology. There is not a single academic subject which cannot be more effectively tackled at home than it can in the best school. Teachers are anxious in the extreme that this dangerous knowledge does not become generally known! The reason is obvious. The key to academic success lies not in the spending of ever increasing sums of money on electronic whiteboards and other expensive gadgets. Instead, it lies in quiet, methodical one-to-one instruction, the type of tuition which home education is uniquely well placed to provide for a child. No wonder that most teachers seem to be implacably opposed to home education on principle; it strikes at the root of their identity as uniquely invaluable educators of the nation's young people.
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