1215 and all that...
I've tried to write this post numerous ways; taking various approaches and adopting a variety of tones. But at the end of the day anything I write boils down to 'the English education system is crap'.
This is a theme I've touched on previously in connection with the failure of infant school (preparatory year and then years 1 through 3) to teach pupils to write legibly in print (pen craft) before introducing them to cursive script. And in connection with the failure of infant school to instil essential and fundamental arithmetic skills in pupils. And in the wasting of considerable valuable time on history and keyboard skills. I'm very nearly certain I'd be equally irate about flaws in the approach to imparting English language skills were it not for the fact that my daughter happens to have an awe-inspiring natural talent in that direction and has succeeded despite rather than because of the system.
The early years are those during which children learn 'times tables' by rote so that in later years 7x6 elicits an instinctive response. The early years are those during which pen craft is developed so that in later years those who do not go on to become medical doctors (the overwhelming majority) can function. The early years are not for plonking children in front of a computer. Should we really applaud to the rafters when little Johnny produces an 'A' on the keyboard but can't recite the 3 times table up to 12 by age 8?
My first hand and direct experience of the English education system comes in two forms; firstly and formerly struggling to coax something approximating standard English from university graduate new employees when I was a senior manager with a global management consulting practice. More recently and brutally my experience has come via being a spectator at my daughter's early years at school.
Had I any aptitude aligned with the requisite domestic arrangements I'd opt for teaching her myself in lieu of packing her off to my alma mater in Melbourne.
Each year that passes only serves to reinforce my anxiety about my Infant's prospects, notwithstanding her effortless upper decile achievements. Each year one teacher after another has told me (and the Fat Bastard) how well she's doing; how well she's progressing through the national curriculum - oblivious to the contempt I feel for said curriculum.
David Starkey may not be my cup of tea; I find him overly manner and besides he and I wrestle with a semi-professional dilemma - in his utterly professional judgement (and by my estimation) Starkey regards the narrow Tudor epoch as the fulcrum on which English history turns whereas I (in my entirely amateur judgement) would place said fulcrum earlier, in the latter half of the fourteen century. On television I find him irritatingly mannered. On radio I adore him and are as one with him (in the non-biblical sense) as to the deficiencies in the English education system.
So here's one to absolutely delight him...
Our first day excursion took us to a site of historic significance not more than a handful of miles from our camp site. The name of that place is Runnymede (or Magna Carta Island in the Thames, we visited both). In June of 1215 at one or other of those places the English Barons succeeded at least temporarily in bending the King of England - King John, to their will in forcing him to sign their list of demanded concessions. The document containing those demands and to which John's signature and the Royal Seal were affixed under duress is known as Magna Carta. If you need to know more about Magna Carta you can start here at the British Library.
As we tramped across a cow field and then down a muddy silver poplar lined avenue towards the river discussing quite why we were visiting this place it became apparent that the two 15 year old English just-done-their-'whatevers' in our party had not the foggiest notion of Magna Carta's significance in their country's development. Rote learning has its limitations and secondary school has role to play in developing students' analytical skills but I simply cannot be brought to believe that 30 or so years of tinkering with 'the system' has wrought even a modicum of improvement when a pair of average mid-teenage school students (and a pair with prospects) will protest, and unashamedly at that, that they've not heard of Magna Carta.
Later that night as we finished off last of the food we returned to the amazement shared by all the wrinkly (forty-something year olds) that the two teenagers could not place that document in its proper context.
Our conversation wended its way to English Lit. and I was inculcated in the modern method of teaching Shakespeare/Dickens et al.
In respect of Great Expectations (their set Dickens text) they watched the recent TV adaptation and discussed. In respect of Much Ado they watched the Branagh film (yes the one with the woeful performance from the usually thorough admirable Denzil Washington and with Keanu Reeves), read some selected passages and discussed. In respect of ... but I hope you get the gist.
If only I could I'd put B on a plane to Melbourne tonight. Old Egg had her deficiencies but at least I knew and could explain (after all these years) that Magna Carta was signed by KJ at Runnymede in the Thames in June of 1215 after he'd brought his Barons to a state of rebellion by his greed and ineptitude and his viciousness, and that this document was and still to some extent is a cornerstone of democracy wherever it exists. (NB his particular forms of viciousness were never spelled out, we had to go to a better library than that at the Old Egg to find out more.)
I tried explaining this to the two teenagers in our party but gave up about the time they asked me to explain exactly where KJ fits in. In the meantime and back at home I've pulled Alan Lloyd's bio of King John from one of my book cases and dipped into it for a contrasting interpretation of KJ's life and reign.
I suppose I ought to sign off with a bah, or an hurumph or an I Don't Believe It. I'm a fifty foot tall and very ancient Greek Goddess and I'm struggling to retain my equanimity in the face of evidence of pedagogic ineptitude, though deep down I blame the bearded sandal-wearers of Whitehall.
PS: We saw this too. The flora expert put it at 1000 years old. He was only out by 1000 years, or thereabouts.
This is a theme I've touched on previously in connection with the failure of infant school (preparatory year and then years 1 through 3) to teach pupils to write legibly in print (pen craft) before introducing them to cursive script. And in connection with the failure of infant school to instil essential and fundamental arithmetic skills in pupils. And in the wasting of considerable valuable time on history and keyboard skills. I'm very nearly certain I'd be equally irate about flaws in the approach to imparting English language skills were it not for the fact that my daughter happens to have an awe-inspiring natural talent in that direction and has succeeded despite rather than because of the system.
The early years are those during which children learn 'times tables' by rote so that in later years 7x6 elicits an instinctive response. The early years are those during which pen craft is developed so that in later years those who do not go on to become medical doctors (the overwhelming majority) can function. The early years are not for plonking children in front of a computer. Should we really applaud to the rafters when little Johnny produces an 'A' on the keyboard but can't recite the 3 times table up to 12 by age 8?
My first hand and direct experience of the English education system comes in two forms; firstly and formerly struggling to coax something approximating standard English from university graduate new employees when I was a senior manager with a global management consulting practice. More recently and brutally my experience has come via being a spectator at my daughter's early years at school.
Had I any aptitude aligned with the requisite domestic arrangements I'd opt for teaching her myself in lieu of packing her off to my alma mater in Melbourne.
Each year that passes only serves to reinforce my anxiety about my Infant's prospects, notwithstanding her effortless upper decile achievements. Each year one teacher after another has told me (and the Fat Bastard) how well she's doing; how well she's progressing through the national curriculum - oblivious to the contempt I feel for said curriculum.
David Starkey may not be my cup of tea; I find him overly manner and besides he and I wrestle with a semi-professional dilemma - in his utterly professional judgement (and by my estimation) Starkey regards the narrow Tudor epoch as the fulcrum on which English history turns whereas I (in my entirely amateur judgement) would place said fulcrum earlier, in the latter half of the fourteen century. On television I find him irritatingly mannered. On radio I adore him and are as one with him (in the non-biblical sense) as to the deficiencies in the English education system.
So here's one to absolutely delight him...
Our first day excursion took us to a site of historic significance not more than a handful of miles from our camp site. The name of that place is Runnymede (or Magna Carta Island in the Thames, we visited both). In June of 1215 at one or other of those places the English Barons succeeded at least temporarily in bending the King of England - King John, to their will in forcing him to sign their list of demanded concessions. The document containing those demands and to which John's signature and the Royal Seal were affixed under duress is known as Magna Carta. If you need to know more about Magna Carta you can start here at the British Library.
As we tramped across a cow field and then down a muddy silver poplar lined avenue towards the river discussing quite why we were visiting this place it became apparent that the two 15 year old English just-done-their-'whatevers' in our party had not the foggiest notion of Magna Carta's significance in their country's development. Rote learning has its limitations and secondary school has role to play in developing students' analytical skills but I simply cannot be brought to believe that 30 or so years of tinkering with 'the system' has wrought even a modicum of improvement when a pair of average mid-teenage school students (and a pair with prospects) will protest, and unashamedly at that, that they've not heard of Magna Carta.
Later that night as we finished off last of the food we returned to the amazement shared by all the wrinkly (forty-something year olds) that the two teenagers could not place that document in its proper context.
Our conversation wended its way to English Lit. and I was inculcated in the modern method of teaching Shakespeare/Dickens et al.
In respect of Great Expectations (their set Dickens text) they watched the recent TV adaptation and discussed. In respect of Much Ado they watched the Branagh film (yes the one with the woeful performance from the usually thorough admirable Denzil Washington and with Keanu Reeves), read some selected passages and discussed. In respect of ... but I hope you get the gist.
If only I could I'd put B on a plane to Melbourne tonight. Old Egg had her deficiencies but at least I knew and could explain (after all these years) that Magna Carta was signed by KJ at Runnymede in the Thames in June of 1215 after he'd brought his Barons to a state of rebellion by his greed and ineptitude and his viciousness, and that this document was and still to some extent is a cornerstone of democracy wherever it exists. (NB his particular forms of viciousness were never spelled out, we had to go to a better library than that at the Old Egg to find out more.)
I tried explaining this to the two teenagers in our party but gave up about the time they asked me to explain exactly where KJ fits in. In the meantime and back at home I've pulled Alan Lloyd's bio of King John from one of my book cases and dipped into it for a contrasting interpretation of KJ's life and reign.
I suppose I ought to sign off with a bah, or an hurumph or an I Don't Believe It. I'm a fifty foot tall and very ancient Greek Goddess and I'm struggling to retain my equanimity in the face of evidence of pedagogic ineptitude, though deep down I blame the bearded sandal-wearers of Whitehall.
PS: We saw this too. The flora expert put it at 1000 years old. He was only out by 1000 years, or thereabouts.
posted by Enyo @ 10:36 am
1 Comments:
At 12:56 am,
mylifeatfullspeed said…
All I have to say is the education system here is not much better. Hell, it sounds like it's just as bad. Which would be the reason why I've chosen to homeschool.
My son disclosed to me, as a 15 year old just taken out of 9th grade (first year of high school) that he'd never learned to read cursive (script). That was only the beginning of many things we had to fix since the school system here is so incredibly flawed that they allowed him to slide by without learning what he needed. They have this ignorant idea that holding kids back will cause psychological damage. And sending them out as adults without the skills they need won't?? I would prefer the schools would just teach them what they need, pay attention to each child so they make sure they've understood what was taught and make sure they pass each grade of their own accord.
But since that isn't likely to happen, I'll stick to teaching my own little munchkins right here
:)
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