At the School I found one teacher was an English graduate who had applied for the Head of Department post but had been passed over by the Head! I had to call on all my interpersonal skills to keep good relationships in the Department, especially so as he wasn’t the only English graduate. I reminded myself that at College the March Hare told us that English (Advanced) was at least pass degree standard. My Departmental colleagues had it at honours level, of course.
Despite my promotion we found two very young but well developed boys, a very old car and a very new house quite a drain on our finances. Neither of our families were in any sense well off so we looked for a way to solve the problem. We had made friends in surrounding houses, so we arranged for one lady to look after the boys each schoolday whilst Rocky went back full time to a Junior School, which she enjoyed, and split her salary in two. This suited our friend whose husband was also a teacher.
We thoroughly enjoyed our years in Kent. We could reach the coast in about thirty five minutes, chugging sedately in our 1939 Standard Eight. True we had to fork out for a new engine but that did give it a very welcome new lease of life. We could reach a lovely arboretum in a short time as well as undertaking longer journeys, such as to Bournemouth where my parents had retired and further to Rocky’s family in Newport, and back to our midland relatives. The last involved crossing London in pre-orbital or circular days so we chugged happily via Park Lane and Marble Arch, and Oxford Street on the return journey. We clocked sixty miles of urban landscape in each direction. I wonder what it is today.
We also chugged to Scotland for my brother’s wedding, travelling along most of the Great North Road - the A1. Originally, of course, this had joined many towns together as needed in the days of stage coaches. Now by-passes were being built and we saw many signs indicating ‘Road Works for the next X miles’. The highest value of X was 40! Nevertheless I was pleased to clock 80 miles over one two hour period.
Whilst at the Ashtree Secondary School I had investigated a course being offered at a Further Education College leading to an Ordinary Degree. This involved two evenings and one afternoon each week and was to last three years. For that I would have to get permission from the Head, and felt that it could be arranged for all my ‘free’ periods to be on the one afternoon. His reaction was swift and devastating. I would be a disgrace to my colleagues by not teaching a full week. I would be implying that my existing qualifications were not good enough; he also had trained at St Andrew’s. In short he demonstrated the class divide between graduates and certificated teachers. The former, very largely, were found in grammar and independent schools and were a race apart. I dropped the idea when, in his eyes, I committed another awful act by applying for a post outside the city - and even worse getting it. But in Kent I tried again with the B.Sc. (Econ) course I mentioned earlier (‘Legibility...the Eleventh Commandment’). But again I was successful in an application for promotion, this time a Deputy headship, so another degree course slipped by.
Our move to Suffolk, found us in more wonderful countryside. Again we made an arrangement for the boys, though soon the elder one, Gareth, began attending an Infants’ School. Rocky then taught part time at my School. An unexpected cash gift came from the estate of a dear friend who had died from cancer, so we parted company with our old Standard and bought a much newer Hillman Minx - nevertheless also second hand. We also increased our dogs.
We had bought our first puppy just before leaving Kent. This was a Samoyed, one of which breed Rocky had possessed as a young child. Her father brought a young male home one day for her and it soon became an inseparable companion. I was not allowed to have a dog as a boy because my father doted on his immaculate garden, but walking to Junior School I often passed a lady exercising a pair. Sometimes I contrived to get between them and rub their soft fur. So when Rocky and I decided to buy a dog we agreed immediately on the breed. We didn’t realise how much a part of our lives they were to become.
Chapter 40
A survey of the main political events in education during the 20th century shows increasing involvement by central government. As is well known the main political tenet during much of the 19th was laissez faire and this included education. So much of it developed locally and only gradually did central government accept responsibility for funding. At the beginning of the 20th century it attempted to direct education centrally and established the Board of Education in 1900, then in 1904 School Regulations prescribed a subject based curriculum. Very quickly, however, responsibility for the curriculum passed to schools and an attempt to guide teachers was made through the publication of the book ‘A Handbook of Suggestions for Teachers’. Further editions of this appeared from time to time and it was on the booklist I had to purchase prior to my enrolment at St Andrews. However there was no reference to it in any lecture during my course there.
The century also saw a plethora of Reports as government sought to discover what actually was taking place in schools. I think this needs to be seen against the background of most Members of Parliament and certainly of the Civil Servants whose job it was to implement Acts of Parliament. They were products of the independent schools; in the most senior positions often they were from Eton. Their experience of schools and education was far removed from that of the great majority of the population and hence they had a need to learn about it.
An example was published in 1963 - ‘Half Our Future’, an investigation by the Central Advisory Council under the Chairmanship of Sir Jon Newsom into the ‘Education of Children of Average Ability aged between 13 and 16’. The school leaving age was still 15 but, depending on date of birth, some pupils were near 16 on leaving. Average ability was a concept virtually unknown in the major public schools, though once I heard one of HM Inspectors report that at the well known School where he had taught, a colleague had complained that their fourth stream was uneducable. Their intake comprised the top 4% of the ability range! What, I wonder, was his view of 96% of the population?
Reports usually carried recommendations. These could be for any and everyone involved in education at the local level. Whether LEAs took them on board usually depended upon finance, but there was also the intention that teachers should read them and adopt the ideas put forward. It was my experience that few did so. A common feeling was that government should leave them alone to get on with their job. At Dayton Road, for example, the two older women had schemes of work books they had first written in the early thirties; they continued to teach the same lessons in the same way twenty years later.
Throughout most of the 20th century schools were responsible for the curriculum. Obviously there was general agreement on the main content of English and Maths, though local inspectors, appointed for particular subjects, could exert significant influence, especially when a new school was constructed and an Inspector for Craft, for example, decided what wood and metalwork machinery was installed. But subjects such as History, Geography, Music, etc., were prescribed by schools - usually the Head, but quite often by the subject specialist. Over the years there was much debate about the merits of this compared to countries that had a national curriculum, even national syllabi. It was jokingly said that at any time of the day the French Minister of Education would know what lesson all students were having throughout the Country and at what level. Rocky’s brother in Australia was infuriated that his children could not undertake further work when they had successfully completed that set down for each particular class. He was educated here, at Cambridge, and bridled at the restriction. But finally a National Curriculum was decreed for UK schools, described largely in terms of skills to be developed rather than prescribed subject syllabi, which some people had anticipated.
The most fundamental centrally directed change in the organisation of schools came in response to the famous Circular 10/65 - in 1965, of course. This required LEAs to draw up plans to make all secondary schools comprehensive and thus abolish schools that took selective entries afte
r the 11+ examination. This had been hotly debated for years, now at last it was to be put into practice. Inevitably timetables for change differed between LEAs and often these were dictated by buildings. A large secondary modern school might be amalgamated with two much smaller grammar schools and find the joint roll increased from 600 to 1000+. Obviously there would be insufficient room so some new building would be needed, paid for, of course, by central government. To avoid being swamped by massive demands for such funds it was decreed that money would only be available for true increases in rolls, or ‘roofs over heads’ as common parlance had it. The result was considerable variation in ages of pupils in schools as LEAs tried to fit all into existing buildings whilst constructing the absolute minimum of new ones. Various educational advantages were advanced to justify particular patterns, but the overall result was that somewhere in the Country children could change schools at any age except 6 and 17. The mixture was further complicated by a few LEAs who refused to reorganise and managed to resist the strictures of central government, such as Buckinghamshire, Kent and Lincolnshire where to the present the 11+ examination sorts children for admission to a few grammar schools and rather more secondaries, albeit most without the ‘modern’ tag. Now, with many areas experiencing reduction in the child population, old divisions are being scrapped, once again to fit in with existing buildings.
In response to 10/65, Bedfordshire opted for the ‘three tier’ system of schools for 5-9, 9-13 and 13-18 ages. In fact for some years it was called the ‘West Riding Scheme’ as it was first developed in that part of Yorkshire. However Bedfordshire decided not to change on a single date, rather it divided the County into four areas, each to have a number of lower schools feeding into a smaller number of middle schools feeding in their turn to an upper school. Most middle schools were housed in existing secondary modern schools, but additional purpose built units were added on site as allowed for increased rolls. The rolling timetable for beginning comprehensive education was unusual, but it was achieved smoothly. Most upper schools were in new buildings.
Some LEAs have now reverted to junior schools for children up to the age of 11 and secondaries beyond that. Bedfordshire now faces the same possibility but understandably there is intense opposition to the loss of good and successful middle schools. There is a background problem with teachers, however. With very few three tier systems remaining teachers whose experiences lie solely in middle schools may face a problem when applying for promotion - have they sufficient relevant primary or secondary experience? There is much to commend teaching children in the middle years and much to be gained from transferring them at 13 - for example, a new start for new entrants to the teenage years and placing them as the youngest among many much older and more mature seniors. Inevitably, however, ultimate decisions will depend on finance, not educational considerations.
Over the years the school leaving age has been raised. In the 19th century, before education for all was dreamt of, children were workers and their lot in the mills that led much of the industrial revolution is well known. Forster’s Education Act of 1870 first envisaged universal education, but only for children up to the age of 11 - and it wasn’t fully enacted until 1878. Secondary education up to 13 years was started in 1902, then to 14 years by Fisher’s Education Act in 1918. In 1936 the age was to be raised to 15 in 1939, but the start of the Second World War forced its postponement; as I completed my training at St Andrews it was enacted in 1948. I remember buying a book of ideas entitled ‘The Extra Year’. Another year was added in 1972 so that all children were then in school for eleven years, from 5 to 16. Recently, of course, provision has been made for the leaving age to be 18.
Not always has the alteration in the leaving age been entirely due to educational considerations; the needs of the labour market have provided influence to an extent. So the current change to 18 has some affinity with the high level of unemployment. Use of children as workers, or the opposite, is a matter of concern in most countries. The employment of young children in parts of India, for example, has recently been paraded on television. Families in southern India depend upon their children working in match factories to supplement income. The government tries to encourage children to be sent to school by the payment of subsidies to counteract the loss of income. For some years after officially retiring - and embarking on varied interesting kinds of part time educational work - I did some voluntary work for PLAN UK, formerly Foster Parents Plan, the first such organisation to link contributors to individual children in the countries in which they work. I was able to help link the Upper School in Bedfordshire, of which I had been Head, with a village in southern India which wanted to provide a building to accommodate the children of an existing School that could only use quite inadequate rented premises. The building of a six classroom School with good toilet facilities was achieved with the local people providing voluntary labour and consequently keeping a large number of children away from the trials of their former sweated labour.
Earlier in the century, in 1944, when the war reached the stage when Allied victory was very likely, the famous Butler Education Act was passed. This provided for the three kinds of schools - grammar, secondary modern and secondary technical, with entries decided following the 11+ examination. The last group soon disappeared and effectively two types remained. Much has been written about the results of this Act, but I remember attending a function in London to honour its 40th anniversary. Sir Keith Joseph gave the keynote address, in which he explained how marvellous it is for a legislator to produce legislation which lasts so long. I felt this was an insight into politicians’ motivation. Incidentally I met both Lord Butler and Sir Keith on other occasions - the former when he opened the Village College which was my first headship and the latter when he met a group of Heads at his request and I was Convener of that group in the Secondary Heads’ Association. Not surprisingly personal contact revealed different facets from their public personas.
One glaring inequality, never resolved, of the 11+ selection procedure was again due to buildings. Differing LEAs had different numbers of grammar schools as I explained earlier. The ‘pass’ rate, therefore, was different depending on where you lived. I have a friend who, as a boy, suffered the effect of that when he moved from a grammar school in one locality to another where he was directed into a secondary modern with no right of appeal.
Gradual pressure for change came from within secondary modern schools that had children of well above average ability. This emerged via the exams available to provide certificates with any value in the world of work. Before the War only grammar schools provided courses leading to School Certificate and Higher School Certificate. The former required passes in six subjects including English, Maths and a modern foreign language. The pass rate per subject was modest - 40%. Above 50% earned a Credit and above 70% a Distinction. A Credit in a modern foreign language provided matriculation - minimum university entry requirement. Higher School Certificate could be achieved with either three ‘main’ subjects or two main and two ‘subsidiary’ subjects. The pass mark was 50%, above 60% was ‘Good’ and over 70% earned a Distinction.
In 1951 the General Certificate of Education was introduced to supplant School and Higher School Certificates. It was to be offered at Ordinary and Advanced levels, nominally at 16+ and 18 years of age. The great change it enshrined was that it was a single subject examination - how many passes were required depended on the organisation to which entry was sought, not on a number set down by the examining boards. Inevitably there were shrieks of ‘dumbing down’ from some sources, but these were ignored. What was not ignored was the prospect that bright secondary modern pupils might now enter for one or two subjects.
In 1955, at the Ashtree Secondary School I was given Class 1A as my form. There were four streams, labelled A, B, Inter and Remove. The Head heard rumours that some of his colleagues were considering having courses leading to one or two ‘O’ levels and he wasn’t the sort to be
left behind. Nevertheless he blanched at the idea of publicly announcing the fact.
He came up with the idea that I, as Class Teacher, should invite ‘my’ children’s parents to explain that we were considering a five year course leading to some ‘O’ levels and how much study that would mean for their youngsters. But to know what I said he insisted that I had the School’s large tape recorder running for his later perusal! I couldn’t hide it from the parents; I hoped my waffly explanation about its presence would satisfy them. I’m sure it did no such thing.
In time, of course, bright students were successful in many subjects at ‘O’ level, underlining the case for comprehensive education. Now politicians happily require 50% of students to achieve a Grade C (effectively a pass mark) in a number of subjects, often I feel nodding back to the days of six subjects for School Certificate, when only about 10% were expected to achieve that level.
Each year when results are published there are renewed criticisms about overall standards. These, I feel, stem from a confusion about the rationale of exams and their goals. They can be based on skills, such as the driving test. They can also be a means of restriction, for example entry into professions. In the case of the former ultimate success would be a 100% pass rate, but for the latter that would be useless. But a single exam system cannot deliver both goals, hence the confusion about results. Using the present system for restrictive purposes is usual, though it can be overdone as is seen with entry to Veterinary courses. Few universities offer these and the number qualifying each year needs to be fairly small. So entry has been defined by requirement of the top A level grades in appropriate subjects because so many students would like to work with animals. A leading Professor of Veterinary Science once said to me that he would never make it to-day with his old results. Some good quality applicants must be lost by such stringent restrictions.
Greetings Noble Sir Page 43