E for Education

Exploring 75 years of change in the UK.

The change in attitudes to dyslexia over the past four decades (see last week's newsletter “D for Dyslexia”) is just one of many such changes that have taken place in my lifetime. When I started school early in 1947, aged 5, compulsory education in Britain ended at age 14. A mere nine years was regarded as sufficient for the majority of children to gain the knowledge they would need to enable them to make a useful contribution to society. Only those deemed brightest were given the chance to continue any longer. The rest were expected to start earning a living via labouring on the land, down mines or in factories.

The following year the school leaving age was increased to 15. Our small village school got a new rapid build classroom and an extra teacher to accommodate the increase in numbers. Elsewhere in the village a large country house was being converted to enable it to become a 'secondary modern' school for the majority of children aged over eleven across a wide rural area.

The segregation of pupils by academic ability was achieved by the imposition of an examination which was supposed to identify the most intelligent. They were the fortunate ones destined to attend a grammar school. Furthermore, boys and girls who were granted this boon would be further separated into gender based schools.

I passed the exam early in 1952. At the time we lived 3 miles from the village which was 12 miles from the city where the grammar schools were located. Passing the exam presented a problem: how would I be able to travel to and from the city? My mother would have to find lodgings for me in the city for Monday through Thursday. This was clearly not regarded as a satisfactory solution. Fortunately there was an alternative: a boarding school. The next question was 'which one?'

After some searching, and on the recommendation of a friend, she settled on a school which, having been founded in the nineteenth century as an orphanage, now offered a grammar style education for boys who had lost at least one parent. Like me, most of my fellow alumni in the 1950s were the sons of men who had lost their lives during the war.

It was a small school with just one class of around 30 pupils per year group. For some subjects these classes were streamed so that we were taught those subjects in groups of around 15. Above all else, it was, I believe, these small teaching groups that ensured an educational experience far superior to that enjoyed by the majority of my generation.

By the time I became, for a period of four years in the 1980s, someone with responsibility for education policy in a large LEA (Local Education Authority) in northern England, class size was a key consideration. Government cuts under the then conservative administration meant there was never enough funding to support the number of teachers or the classroom spaces required in order to keep class sizes at the desired level. In many of the schools under our jurisdiction the temporary classrooms introduced at the time of the second raising of the school leaving age, to sixteen in 1972, were still in use. A life of fifteen years for a temporary building might not seem unreasonable. We still had some that dated back to the 1950s. They were called HORSA units (Housing On Raising of the School leaving Age).

School population was another important factor, especially with regard to ensuring a broad curriculum. Too small and there will not be enough teachers to cover all of the subjects required for a fully rounded experience. My subject choices in the small school I had attended were restricted to the basics which were, nevertheless, thoroughly covered.

Every summer during those four years I was part of a small group that would meet several times to allocate discretionary education grants. To explain: students enrolled on approved third level courses in registered institutions would automatically receive a government grant to support them whilst they studied. Local authorities were empowered to set aside a portion of their education budget in order to support students who did not meet the government's criteria. A committee consisting of councilors, advised by education officials, would assess each of the many applications received for funding under this heading.

Among the claimants would be students who had failed a year and needed support in order to re-take that year. Quite often we would defer our decision with regard to such claims, asking the applicant to provide additional information that we would consider at a later meeting. There might be a good reason for the student having failed to achieve a pass. Illness, injury or family bereavement were among the reasons given and these would need supporting medical or other evidence. References might also be sought from the student's tutors.

Courses that did not automatically qualify for government support, but could be supported by the local authority, included performing arts. It was here that I encountered the same level of prejudice as in discussions of dyslexia.

Unlike the judges on a television talent show, we did not have the advantage of having witnessed the student's performance. All we had to go on was the opinion of dance, drama or music teachers familiar with the candidate's ability and potential. For some councilors anything except the level of genius that merited a scholarship to a prestigious establishment was regarded as frivolous and earned a 'no' vote from them. The same was true of such subjects as beauty therapy, deemed insufficiently academic to justify support.

One of the most satisfying exercises I participated in during my tenure as a member of the Education Committee was the restructuring of schools in one of the urban districts within the county. Hitherto the age ranges for schools in the district had been 5-8, 8-13 and 13-16 or 18. The rest of the county had schools with the single transfer age (from primary to secondary) of 11. The plan was to harmonise the district with the rest of the county (and most of the country).

An important benefit of this plan was to release resources. We were under pressure from the government to reduce expenditure. The 1960s baby boom was working its way through the system and the population of school aged children was reducing. It was expected that the new plan would release some of the HORSA and other temporary buildings. It should also remove some Victorian buildings and the land surrounding them completely. These buildings could then be sold or repurposed to meet alternative community needs.

An initial draft of the plan was shared with the staff, governors and parents of the effected schools. Feedback from all such stakeholders was taken into account in finalising the plan which was then approved by the government's Department of Education.

Implementing the plan required that all existing schools be closed and new schools opened using some of the existing premises. All staff had to apply for posts in the new schools. Some were happy to take early retirement. Under the new arrangement there were fewer senior posts. Those who had been heads under the old system, as well as deputies, were eligible to apply for one or more of the new headships. None of the new secondary schools would have a sixth form. Instead there would be a sixth form college.

Boards of governors for the new schools were established and, together with members of the Education Committee, including me, began by selecting head teachers for each. We were supported in this by professionals from the Education Department. From a long list of applicants for each post we short listed and interviewed a large number of potential candidates over a period of several weeks in the summer of 1988. It was then left to these new heads, alongside their governing boards, to select staff for their new schools.

I recently looked up the progress of the sixth form college and found this: “Initially planned to be a small sixth form with about 450 students due to low further education uptake in the area, the college has exceeded that number and currently serves more than 1,700 full-time students aged 16–18.” (2011). In the same year: “100% of students left the college with at least two A levels or equivalent qualifications, and 95% achieved the equivalent of three A level passes.”

I believe that reflects the quality of education being achieved by the secondary schools that provide the majority of the college's intake.

What do you think?

Should children be segregated according to ability? Gender?

Should sixth forms be integrated with secondary schools or separate?

What part, if any, ought politicians to have in determining how, when and where a young person is permitted to study?