This summer I’ve been submerging myself in fiction again, after a little break with some non-fiction. I discovered the wonder of Grahame Greene, finally read ‘Rebecca’, and worked my way through a host of unread books I’d been adding to my bookcase over the year. The act of reading is one in which I am most at ease during the holidays. The niggling thought that I should be doing something else dissipates and my time is my own. I leave no time or space between books, almost literally, and that pile of books which had been building up over the last few months starts to decrease.
With no pause between books how could I possibly reflect on what I’d read, something I ask my students to do after reading a book? Of course, I couldn’t. Stopping after each book, thinking for a bit, or even writing about it, is not something that experienced readers do an awful lot of. Of course we internalise what we read – I could talk about ‘Our Man in Havana’ for hours if you asked – but good readers can do that. We live the lives of readers and the reflection part is built in, ingrained in what we do. Our students don’t often have habit that yet.
I return to teaching tomorrow and will, for the first time, meet about 150 new students. Some of them may have been with me before but I like to spend that first day, or at least some of the time, talking about the reading we will be doing and why it is important for them. Each will have a reading journal – they will write in that once or twice a fortnight – and part of their role will be to write about the things which I now take for granted. However, to begin with anyway, it will be more important to get books into their hands. The refection bit will come later.
When it coms to reluctant readers it is important to remember that the quality of the book itself might not be the most important thing at the beginning. I’m happy for them to choose any book to start with just to get that habit on its way. Many of these guys will be coming to us with negative reading experiences so rejection of their early choices merely adds to that. Let them choose whatever they want: when they start to read you can begin to push books over their desk towards them, once you get to know them. And I won’t worry whether they choose to reflect too much on those books.
While I don’t necessarily reflect on individual books any more, preferring to submerge myself into the act of reading, it is important that we remember that when we meet new classes. There is nothing worse than asking kids to write a book review, especially reluctant readers. Don’t concern them with chin scratching and reflecting. Reading is a habit not an isolated action. It’s more important that we begin the sometimes long process of allowing them to develop that habit, along with an awareness of what being a reader looks like. Some will get there quicker than others. But it’s hugely important that they do get there.
It’s not the first time I’ve heard it but when, at a lecture at Strathclyde University recently, Michael Apple stressed the point that ‘Education is political’ something resonated with me. At a time in Scotland when the gap between rich and poor has never been wider, it is a point that we should ignore at our peril. For, while school is and never should be seen as the place to solve all of society’s ills, it is incumbent on all of us to do our bit. Improving the literacy of all of our citizens is a political act. What’s more worrying is when education becomes a tool to be used for political gain.
The Scottish Government’s policy of reintroducing National Assessment is on its way. Despite attempts to discover where the policy originated or which research was accessed – see James McEnaney’s excellent work on this here – we are told merely that this is will be ‘for the best’. National Assessment seems to go against the grain of the principles of Curriculum for Excellent and, regardless of your thoughts on that, it is the Scottish Curriculum. Without the support of teachers it will become a policy fraught with tension and the Government will have a hard job of convincing us of the merits of these National Assessments.
What troubles me is that, in an era of massive constitutional upheaval and the louder and harsher calls for IndyRef2, SNP policy seems to be taking a surge to the right in order to attract traditional ‘No’ voters rather than stick to the more left leaning approaches which garnered so much support over the last ten years. No-one should pretend that the SNP are a left leaning party; they merely, cleverly, stepped into a hole left bare by the inadequacies of Scottish Labour. However, education is political but not a political tool. I want the best policies for the children in my class, not for the SNP.
I’m still not convinced how and why any new assessment will provide me with any information I don’t already have. I see a whole load of additional admin; I see a whole load of additional stress; I see league tables, which will be created regardless of the intentions of Government. Part of the change to Curriculum for Excellence was the focus on local needs and the increased value of the professional judgment of teachers. Those shouldn’t be followed with a ‘but’. I know how well my students are doing. Comparing them nationally at an early age seems nonsensical.
It’s not that I’m completely against Government intervention in Education; that would be daft. But if there is so much opposition to a policy which those in charge find difficult to justify beyond a few practiced lines then we really must start to question them. Along with slightly idealistic and simplistic approaches to Reading for Pleasure, which I write about here, I want to trust a Government which takes decisions based on current research and up-to-date thinking, not one which looks to cement it’s political foothold. I’m not convinced that’s the case at the moment. Education is a political football. Literacy is a political football. We shouldn’t allow anyone to play games with that.