What goes on?

A friend recently put me onto Mark Steel. I enjoyed his new book, What's going on, very much; I was even getting to meetings a few minutes early so I could strengthen myself with a few pages. I like his belief that learning and education should feel unexpected and amusing, and that everyone would get excited by ideas if only the teaching about them wasn't so dull.

A while ago, I was looking through a document put together by fine, sharp minds. I traced what it said about learning English over many years of a child's life, and I asked myself whether I could imagine a novelist, say, or a poet, or a songwriter or a standup comedian emerging from this carefully worded account of experiences and skills? Or would creativity with words have to come despite the education system? I asked a few other people the same question. No-one had anything but the same doubt.

Everyone doubts. The people who run things in and for schools, and universities etc are clever, charming, good company. They don't tell you to get lost, or that you are semi-detached from reality if you think writing books or poems or songs or jokes matters a jot. But nothing much changes, and I was left thinking that people like me either shouldn't get involved in the first place, or should get very cross (which myself I don't do very well, without being ridiculous and seeming silly, arrogant, and impolite). Steel reports similar experiences, but they seem to have been (or sound) funnier.

I could worry that we will see a whole generation of children who can produce a good report for the board, sort out an enquiry in a call-centre, or do a decent pitch to the Dragon's Den - but who can't create with words. But I don't think that will happen. People resist the education system well enough, and always have done.

It's not the lack of creativity that depresses me, it's the hours of boredom children will live with in an increasingly perfected and efficient system of education. No wonder it's been reported that English children have the skills to be some of the best readers in the world, if only they would pick up a book more often.

Tick boxes and show trials

Plenty has been written about the terrible life and death of Baby P, and I will not add to it here. But there are some wider issues about working with children and families that are worth exploring.

Not long ago, I was talking to a Children’s Centre head who asked me if she was the only one who often went home worrying about the safety of children in contact with the Centre. I know she is not. It is difficult enough being a nursery school headteacher; but with extended services and a large programme of outreach and home visiting, all of us in Children’s Centres know a little bit about a lot of vulnerable children and families. And it can be very worrying. This anxiety is made worse by the tone of the public discussion, the Sun petitions and corner-shop conversations which are more like show trials than a serious consideration of how we should undertake the difficult work of protecting children.

A nursery may be praised for its outstanding curriculum or be featured in the press with pictures of smiling children and fabulous new buildings and facilities. There is no equivalent celebration or even respect, for good social work - only silence, or sharp criticism if mistakes are made. This is not an atmosphere that encourages safe, reflective practice. It might also prompt Children’s Centre heads and other staff to respond defensively and anxiously: to turn cases away, refer them onto someone else, do anything to avoid being stuck with something which might go wrong.

This defensive response is made worse by a process of de-professionalisation which is going on in the early years and education in general. By this I mean that professional ways of working, like making judgements based on experience and wider knowledge, having discretion, and thinking carefully and critically, are being replaced by a tick-box, competence-framework approach. When you look at the inspection of nurseries and schools, the supervision of NVQ3 candidates, or the assessment of Early Years Professionals, you will see elaborate long lists, systems and measurable outcomes. They do a very thorough job, and they often miss the point entirely.

It is essential that lessons are learnt whenever a child is harmed or killed. But as well as learning lessons about procedures, processes and recording, we must do something more difficult – develop a new professionalism in children’s services.