I am not the first to write about home learning in the current climate and I’m sure I won’t be the last. Posts on social media range from one extreme to another – some are busy sharing the wonderful experiences their children are having whilst others are berating themselves with fake Ofsted labels branding themselves as failing miserably (in slightly less polite terms.)

Me? I feel lucky in that my children are at an age and stage where they can pretty much log in, pick up their work and get on with it and sometimes even sit and bounce ideas off each other whilst I crack on with what I need to do. However, their school work is generally done by lunchtime if not before and it leaves me with that one concern – how can I get my children to fill their time with something wholesome before I give in for the day and let them spend their time on their screens?

My son embodied the issue with home learning this evening in his attitude to a non-mandatory piece of work that had been set by his teacher stating that he didn’t want to do it and didn’t see the point. His sister gave him some encouragement suggesting that he might gain some house points for completing it but was dismissed with a “What’s the point – I can’t put them anywhere… it’s not like we’re going to get a non-uniform day for the most house points.” Motivation is a major issue right now.

As teachers, we employ a wide range of skills and techniques to motivate our pupils. We have routines which give structure and predictability to the day and we have working relationships with pupils where we know just how to pitch the work and how to set appropriate challenge. We hook them in with exciting ideas, stories, resources and scenarios. We generate energy within the classroom bouncing thoughts and ideas around and give meaningful feedback based on our knowledge of the child and what they need to do next. The list of strategies is almost endless and, if all that fails, then we can offer extrinsic rewards such as house points or stickers or use sanctions for work not completed in the allotted time.

At home, most of that is missing.

Children don’t want to please their parents in quite the same way as they want to please their teacher as parents don’t understand the tasks and the curriculum in the same way the teacher does. Parents generally look at their children’s work and are either amazed at what their children can produce or just don’t get it and find themselves being overly critical; feedback can end up being meaningless. It’s hard to generate the ‘buzz’ around learning that teachers create in the classroom when you don’t really know what you are doing and are only working with one child. There might be a routine in place but when you are in a Zoom meeting in the adjacent room it becomes harder to enforce.

And add to that the fact that ‘end goals’ are now gone. My son’s year 6 SATs are cancelled as are all other external assessments this year and probably internal assessments also. It’s easy for them to start to wonder what the point is which, to be fair, many of us are feeling about elements of our lives right now.

At home, we keep trundling on with the school work set for home and there is enough routine and support from each other to do a good enough job for now. As to anything else, I’ve found myself just trying to follow their interests and supporting them where I can. My daughter decided that she wanted to make earrings using bits and bobs in her room ranging from small toys and charms to disembodied Lego heads and doll’s limbs so we’ve made sure she has the tools she needs to do this. I have thrown loads of ideas for projects at my son of which hardly any have taken seed until I suggested a bit of coding which has actually caught his interest and he’s now working through some Python projects. Things that naturally interest and challenge them are providing a bit of motivation.

A great bit of ‘in the moment planning’ at home (though slightly morbid) occurred when they found some bones of an animal under the trampoline. We pieced it together and worked out that it must have been a bird and identified some of the parts of the skeleton. I was quite proud of myself as a parent educator that day. But I’d be lying if I said that every day was like that and there have been plenty of days involving lots of XBox time.

And I’m coming to terms with that as I am in my own life. I have days which feel super-productive and I immerse myself in something that feels positive and meaningful and other days I struggle to find the motivation to get up. The kids are just the same. It’s the nature of lockdown life and it’s where we all are for now. And it’s ok… for now.

 

The school I worked at before my present school will always hold a special place in my heart. Tucked away in a small town, it is a one form entry school in an area of high social deprivation but a strong sense of community I have not experienced anywhere else that I have lived or worked. Whilst working there, one of my roles was music lead. I wouldn’t call myself a music specialist but as a competent piano player and a reasonable singer I brought a love of music to the role. I am proud of how the profile of music was raised during my time and how it was regarded in the community.

One year, we were contacted by a representative from the music festival which takes place in the neighbouring town; our children, along with children from other local schools, were invited to be part of a performance of ‘Noyes Fludde’ by Benjamin Britten which would be taking place in Abbey which was walking distance from the school. Obviously, I jumped at this as it would be an opportunity of a life time for some of our children and an unlikely little group put themselves forward. They received vocal training that surpassed anything I could give them and they experienced singing with a live orchestra.

As the performance approached, I had to explain to the organisers the barriers our children faced. They didn’t have transport to get to weekend rehearsals and a minibus needed to be laid on. They would also need help in putting costumes together. When the tickets were released, they were too expensive for many of our parents; they were allowed to attend the dress rehearsal if they wanted to but a few managed to find the money for tickets to the performance as they did not want to miss out.

The day came and rehearsals took place all day. As well as children from local schools, a junior choir from the neighbouring town were also invited. As you can imagine, these children were from much more privileged backgrounds that our children and they were given a long slot at the beginning of the concert to perform their own songs. Our children did their bit as during the performance but it had been a long wait. After the event, a parent described how he felt that our children had been pushed aside if favour of all these ‘posh’ children. I was also appalled at the attitudes of some of these children towards our children, clearly looking down on them.

To this day, I look back on that experience and wonder about what the children’s memories are. On the one hand, they were exposed to something amazing but on the other hand, they were made starkly aware of the opportunities that they will never have.

Interestingly, music has been back on my agenda this week even before Nick Gibb made his announcement about the new model music curriculum. My son got a guitar for a Christmas as he was keen to learn. My husband (his stepdad) has decided he wants to learn with him so they are learning together from their book and, as I have a few guitar basics, I will give them some pointers along the way. My husband seemed a little over-awed by the fact there is stave notation in the book and I tried to explain that it’s really not that difficult once you know how. I have often reflected on how divisive being able to read music or not seems to be and how it is perceived as some kind of higher skill that only a few can master. I honestly believe that anyone can learn to read music alongside an instrument (even if it is just the recorder or glockenspiel) if it is taught in a systematic way with lots of practice.

One of my jobs for this week has been reviewing our school progression maps as part of a curriculum drive and I am currently working on music. It has made me reflect on how music teaching at primary can become quite haphazard and, if we are not careful, children come away with very little knowledge. It saddens me that many still cannot name the instruments they hear in KS2 and are scared by stave notation. The music scheme we have in place ensures that music is taught but, without deep subject knowledge from the teacher, it is likely to be surface level learning. Whilst adults are split into those that can play an instrument and value music learning and those who don’t, it is almost impossible to ensure that the next generation become competent musicians.

Learning an instrument well is time-consuming and expensive. I mistakenly thought that I could save myself that expense with my children by teaching them piano myself. Anyone who has ever tried to teach their own child an instrument will be able to relate to why that didn’t work. My daughter now has flute lessons instead and had an excellent peripatetic flute teacher at primary school but we have had to go private since she started secondary school as her school lessons weren’t up to scratch. Proper technique is vital and can only really be taught on a one to one or very small group. My own children face their own disadvantage being from split parents as only one of their parents values music learning and instrument practice doesn’t happen on their weekends with their dad. We have also had to weigh up other financial priorities when spending out on music learning.

Having always considered myself a progressive teacher, I am finding myself surprised at craving a knowledge-based approach but knowledge is what children need if we are going to come anywhere near breaking down barriers in music. I would love to see an expectation that all children are able to read music alongside mastering the basics of an instrument and be able to talk confidently about the interrelated elements of music. This does not have to be at the expense of being literate and numerate and music can bring great confidence to children and support other areas of learning.

I wish the government expert panel well in their task of putting together the new model music curriculum but I wonder whether those with a strong background in music really appreciate the disadvantages faced by many children; it is unlikely (though I cannot be sure) that they will have faced these barriers themselves. I also hope that there will be enough funding in place to support this. Breaking down barriers in music teaching and learning is no easy task but I really hope it can be done.

My 9 year old son returned from his dad’s on Friday along with my twelve year old daughter; they had been to visit family in Northern Ireland. I have missed them loads but after nearly eight years of separation from their father, it is part of life I am now used to. It takes a while to get much out of them about what they have done but walking to the barber, my son told me all about the work he’d been doing on his ‘den’ he’s been building with his dad as well as describing in detail how he had helped mix the cement to help fix a fence at his aunt’s house. I have an acrimonious relationship with their father but cannot deny that these are valuable life experiences.

This Christmas holiday, the DfE have released their activity passport. I have no doubt that Damien Hinds was very well-intentioned when bringing this out but, strangely enough, mixing cement and building a den do not feature in the year 5 ticklist. Neither do visiting a Stone Age ‘long barrow’ (part of our weekend walk) nor is playing a fantasy role-play game (which is what my son has been doing this afternoon with his stepdad, step-brother and a family friend) nor making gingerbread (our pre-Christmas baking). His school have also given him some great life experiences over last term: a Greek feast, a visit to the literature festival and various sporting activities. At Woodcraft folk, he made a boat which was sailed down the river and set alight. Again, these aren’t on the list.

Like many families, we have a network of people around us who we could not manage without. The African proverb ‘it takes a village to raise a child’ could not be more true in our lives, even if the ‘village’ is, in fact, in suburban affordable housing. My parents, friends and neighbours provide invaluable support with school runs, after school care and providing shelter for the 12 year old who has forgotten her house key. Through this support network, the children have built relationships with adults and children who also enhance their life experiences: climbing trees on the green, making slime, walking dogs  and helping cook dinner. This network was built up when the children were small and tax credits enabled me to work part time as a single parent.

When I take a step back, it is clear to see that my children have a privileged childhood in terms of relationships and experiences. They live in a town with lots going on and we are only a short drive from hills and forests. We live in a small house but with a safe space for the children to play outside. Their schools provide a rich curriculum with a variety of experiences alongside good academic outcomes. We have enjoyed seaside holidays and camping trips as well as a range of day trips. I would be lying if I did not admit that screens also play a significant part in their lives but not to the detriment of everything else.

In my teaching career, I have taught many children who have equally rich and unique opportunities in life as my own children have and plenty who haven’t. Where children haven’t, the barriers are often financial but also related to aspiration and lack of opportunity. Schools can provide a range of life opportunities but cannot be expected to be provide all – it is just one part of the village. As Ofsted harshly reminded my school last year, closing the gap in academic outcomes for pupil premium pupils is  their key role.

Sadly, I do not feel my family would fare that well on the Activity Passport as it appears that we are not providing the ‘right’ opportunities at the right age. In fact, I am foreseeing lots of guilt from both parents and schools about not being able to achieve this despite providing many alternative rich opportunities for children. Whilst I admire Damien Hinds’ drive to save childhood, a ticklist is not what is needed. There are so many factors affecting children’s lives: the structure of the family, working patterns, finances, where they live and social networks included. No ticklist can account for all of these.

I don’t have the answers for how to save childhood for all children but I know how a strong network and easy access to a range of places have enriched my children’s lives. Not living in poverty has also been a major factor.

Perhaps the government might benefit from their own activity passport:

• Meet a child living in poverty
• Search for a safe place to play within walking distance of every child’s home.
• Learn to entertain a child on the minimum wage.
• Reduce the cost of public transport so children can afford to get to the beach.
• Rebuild a children’s centre in every area….

This is just a start. I’m sure plenty of people could suggest more.

 

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton