Earlier this year I decided I wanted to get into teaching. This wasn’t a sudden decision but something I had been mulling over for some time. I was put on the path to teaching, I believe, through my experiences last year when I found out my son was placed in the middle ability stream at his primary school. This momentous event dominated my thoughts for months as I tried to understand how my bright and knowledge hungry child had been deemed “average” at his Ofsted Outstanding school and then as I battled to get him promoted to the higher ability work which I knew he was capable of doing.
I spent weeks railing at a system that was so obviously disadvantaging my child. Why had nobody told me that the children would be assessed in the first week of school and then placed into ability groups? I had attended all the parent briefings, been given handouts about what to expect during the next school year, but not a hint was given that something so important was going to happen. If my child was going to be assessed in that first week on how well he could read, write or count, I surely had the right to know about it so that I could help prepare him. We had spent our summer holiday in ignorant bliss, me reading Harry Potter to him every evening but not expecting him to read to me. I knew my boy was bright and I knew that once he was in school he would catch on to whatever was being taught so I had no real incentives to badger him into doing school work during the holiday.
The next shock was the reaction from his teacher when I let her know that my son was finding the work he was given too easy and that he thought he could tackle the more challenging work of the higher ability tables. “Really”, she said to my son sounding surprised, “well, if you want to have an extra challenge, just put your hand up and ask.” To say I went home that day feeling frustrated would be an understatement. We spent the next few weeks reading more intensively and practising writing at home. If my son had to prove he was worthy of “promotion” then that was what we were going to do. Within two weeks he started to read fluently and to write much more legibly. The improvement was so stark, the teacher could not fail to notice. But my son stayed stuck where he was.
I looked jealously at the other “favoured” children and my eagle eye could not detect any special gift in them that stood them apart from my son. The unfairness of it had me tossing and turning at night. I could not accept this status quo. I would not. Another meeting with the class teacher did not yield any result so I resolved to see the deputy head about it. I am half ashamed to say that I was by this stage so emotional about this matter that, try as I might, I could not help shedding tears during that meeting. How could an outstanding school, a school that prided itself on its platinum standard of education, impose a ceiling on my son’s achievements in this way? And her response had me confounded. We can’t teach all the children at the same level, she said, there are some in that class that can still barely even write their own names.
Well, I did not succeed in getting my son moved up to the top ability stream but my accusations that a ceiling was being placed on his attainment had hit a nerve. The upshot of the meeting was that my son was given the higher ability work even though he stayed on the same middle table as before. It was not what I wanted but I had to accept this compromise. And then, at the start of the summer term, two children who had sat in the higher stream tables left the school and the sudden vacancy meant that my son could finally be moved up. The happiness on his face when he came home and told me the news shows just how much he cared about being put in a lower ability table than all his friends. It mattered. Those proponents of streaming do not know just how crushing to a child’s self worth it can be to feel they are not as clever as others in the class. It is an incredibly stigmatising thing to do to a child. Something else happened too. Soon after he was moved up to a higher stream table, the standard of his work improved significantly. This may have been pure coincidence but it could also be that, once he was surrounded by children doing more challenging work, he was motivated and inspired to match what they were doing. Success breeds success, isn’t that how the saying goes?
So, job done, at this point I should have just heaved a sigh of relief and moved on. Not so. I kept asking myself, what about the other children, the ones whose mothers didn’t have the chutzpah to make a fuss like I did? How many other children out there were underachieving because of low expectations? I needed to read up about this. I googled “ability streaming” and found several interesting articles that led me to purchase some books on the subject. I started reading book after book and blog after blog on education. There are a multitude of them. This led me further than just the subject of grouping by ability. I read about mindset in Carol Dweck’s seminal book. I delved into the current debate between proponents of a progressive versus a traditional education. I found out about cognitive science and the latest research on how the mind retains information. I wanted to read about the latest efforts to raise the standard of those who are failing in education. What are the successful schools doing that others are not doing? There is, I found out, a vibrant community of deeply committed teachers grappling with these issues. I felt invigorated.
After 7 years of being a stay-at-home mum, it was time for me to get back to work. But what to do? I could resurrect my career as a reflexologist and aromatherapist. I was good at it and it was satisfying to be able to help alleviate my clients’ aches and pains. Something held me back though. I wanted more intellectual challenge. The news talked about a chronic teacher shortage and the adverts on TV invited people to get into teaching. Intrigued, I registered online and got the pack. It said bursaries were available for people like me with good degrees. I could train directly in a school and be working as a qualified teacher within a year, which is appealing as I am already 45 years old. I talked to family and friends. Everyone without exception was encouraging. The decision was made. I’m going to be a teacher!