Cuttings

For once, jargon that works

Chris Woodhead meets a head teacher whose progressive ideas have delivered surprising results

The Daily Telegraph 12/09/2002

I like to think that I am an open-minded sort of chap. I know there are those in the world of education who disagree but, as far as I am concerned, if I learn something new, then I am prepared to rethink my convictions, however deep-rooted they might be.

That said, there are limits. Sentences such as this raise my sceptical hackles: "The accelerated learning approach (high challenge, low threat) enables pupils to understand their own learning preferences, input life-long skills and learn how to learn."

First, there is the label. Is the "speed" at which pupils learn really the issue? Is not depth more important? Is there really a clear, conceptual difference between "threat" and "challenge" and, if there is, does this supposed dichotomy add anything to the meaning of the sentence?

What exactly is a "learning preference"? What "life-long skills" are these? Are we talking here about literacy and numeracy, or are these the modish, new "transferable skills" that, when it comes down to it, nobody can define? Can, for that matter, anyone sensibly deconstruct the notion of "learning how to learn"? I have been seeking elucidation for the best part of 20 years, and I am still none the wiser.

The author of the above sentence is Pat Preedy, head teacher of Knowle Church of England primary school. If I had read her policy document on accelerated learning before visiting her school, I might not have bothered. I would have written her off as another enthusiast for the half-baked theories that blight state education. That would have been a very grave mistake. For Pat runs one of the most successful primary schools in the country. "This is probably the best inspection report I can remember reading," her director of education said after her last inspection. I agree.

"An outstandingly successful school," the inspectors wrote, "with strengths in many areas." The quality of teaching and learning is "extremely high". Curriculum provision is "excellent". Pupils have "a thirst for learning", and, predictably enough, given the strength of the school, Pat is described as "an inspirational leader with a very clear vision of what is right for the school, its pupils and staff". Pick any aspect of school life and the praise is equally positive. So, I asked myself, as I crossed the playground, what am I going to find? Have the inspectors got it wrong, or am I going to have to rethink my distaste for what - up to now - I have dismissed as progressive twaddle?

The first thing to say is that the inspectors got it right. This is, without doubt, an outstanding school, and Pat and Chris Lees, her deputy, are inspirational leaders. Moreover, when I broached the tricky subject of accelerated learning, I found that once we had penetrated the cliches, we were very much on the same wavelength. "I don't even like the term 'accelerated learning'," Pat said, with a smile. "What matters is what works. Our priority is what happens in the classroom. We have looked very hard at the curriculum. Now, we are focusing on two things. We want our teachers to have a wide range of strategies on which to draw and we want the children to approach everything they do in a positive way." Chris underlined this last point: "The pupils' attitude is the key to it all. If, for whatever reason, they are not focused on what they should be doing, then it is hopeless." He is right, of course. Listening to him, I thought back to my own days at school. There were lessons in which I was more interested in the mayhem I could provoke than the teacher's words of wisdom. What would Knowle have done to nip my incipient delinquency in the bud?

"Behaviour from within," Pat replied, firmly. "It is our most important project. We would have encouraged you to think about why you were behaving in this way. We don't believe that praise and more praise is the answer. If a child is behaving badly, we point it out. Children have to understand that no means no. "We have full class discussions where we explain our approach. We ask the class to think about the teacher's emotions, about, for example, what it is like when she is stressed. Then there are tutorial discussions in which we try to build self-esteem, to develop a positive attitude. We ask the children to think about what is happening, why they are acting in the way they are, how things might change, and become better." So far, so good, I thought. Then Pat started to talk about how pupils have different "styles of learning" and I started to worry. I have never been convinced that we do, as individuals, have different "styles". It is more, I think, a matter of different kinds of learning needing to be approached in a different way. And, in any case, if there are 30 children in a class, no teacher, however energetic, is going to be able to structure the lesson in terms of their personal preferences.

Once again, Pat defused my anxieties. She agreed that, taken to its logical conclusion, "learning styles" were a recipe for disaster and teacher exhaustion. She simply thought it was important for teachers to give children who like to talk things through the opportunity to do so. Others like to think on paper or on the computer. The intelligent teacher will structure her lesson to ensure that there is a variety of work to appeal to different children. I nodded enthusiastically. There was no professional crisis to resolve. What Pat and Chris have done is take current theories about how children learn and translate them into teaching approaches that are phenomenally successful. They have bridged the progressive/traditional divide, which, in these ideological times, is no mean achievement.