“The past is a foreign country: they do things differently there…” and almost always worse…
I have been guilty of a great many lazy thoughts over the past quarter century of my teaching career. Since walking into my first classroom in the autumn of 1996, I have believed myself to be a very modern chap. As a twenty-something I scoffed at the outdated opinions of those ‘old heads’ in the staffroom who couldn’t get with the vibe of the new (and so very modern) ‘Literacy Strategy’ and its younger sibling ‘the Numeracy Strategy’. As a thirty year old Headteacher, I scoffed at the ‘old heads’ in the LA who couldn’t get with vibe of RAPs, and Swim-Lanes, and SEFs.
I was down with the ‘15,15,20,10’ clock in the nineties.
Down with Accelerated Learning in the noughties.
Down with SATs outcomes at all costs in the 2010’s.
Down with ‘Research-Ed’ in the 2020’s.
It was clear to me: no teacher before my current generation had the faintest idea what they were doing. They were at best ‘tinkering’. The modern crop of ‘bright young things’ were dragging a backward profession into the light, informed by ‘brain science’!
Our soon-to-be CEO, Ross Newman, at the soon-to-be Leaf Trust is a bit of a reader. He shared some reading the other day about Whakapapa which (once you’ve overcome the entertaining pronunciation) is an interesting Maori belief which states that we stand, arm-in-arm, with those who went before us, and those who will come after. It states that we currently stand in the sunlight, as our ancestors did before us, and future generations will do when our moment in the sun has passed.
We are therefore merely stewards of our moment in time.
In recent weeks I’ve been working on a timeline for the corridor at Blackhorse (and Emersons). It started off as something which should have been a quick job, but which has grown into a bit of a monster.
One strand of the timeline is the school’s history. I want the children to understand the school’s 65 year back story and where it fits with their community and the history of the 20th Century.
This has led me to dive into the log-books and albums which we are fortunate enough to hold, charting the school’s history from 1958 until the present day.
Now, the story I told myself of the school’s recent history (well, since 2011) is that of a phoenix rising from the flames. Of a school which was in dire straits until thoroughly modern Joes like myself and the current staff came along to walk it into the brilliant white light of modernity. This narrative had some merits: the school had only 17 families wanting places in the 60-place EYFS cohort in 2011, and the school had some of the worst data in the county, having spent a few years perilously close to Special Measures.
So the myth of Blackhorse, now the second most over-subscribed school in the county, is one of transformation.
I was Headteacher at Blackhorse for 11 years and I am very fond of the school and its community. I have been Executive Headteacher this past year at Blackhorse and the excellent Emersons Green Primary – a school which I am also becoming very fond of. After a decade, you can’t turn a corner at Blackhorse without being reminded of the school’s vision.
We are standing in the bright sunshine and our version of history is written on every wall. The story which we tell ourselves is that there has never been a time when the school shone so brightly.
And then I started reading the Log Books.
For those of you who don’t know what these were, a log book was kept by all headteachers in the 19th and (most of) the 20th century. They were heavy bound ledgers within which the school leader of the day recounted moments in the school’s history. Some were benign (numbers of children attending, visits from LA Officers) others captured moments in a school’s story which may now only be found on the school’s Twitter feed.
If I’m honest, I expected to read about people who offered leadership which was quaint and ‘of its time’. Competent, but nowhere near the standard offered by those of us currently standing in the sunlight.
I read of the school’s opening in the late 50’s, of its rapid growth at a time of huge societal change. Of the new Infant Headteacher (when the school was split into Infant & Junior) in 1964 who developed an ambitious child-led curriculum with children in the EYFS taking part in practical woodwork which most of us would shy away from sixty years later, for fear the children couldn’t cope.
I read about the school library when books weren’t a throwaway commodity as they are today. I read about the efforts made by dedicated teachers to ensure that children learned to read. Of teaching letter sounds 50 years before ‘synthetic phonics’ had a name.
I learned that, forty years before Blackhorse reinvented itself as an unparalleled centre of extra-curricular sporting excellence, producing more national-level runners than the rest of the region combined, the (then one form entry school) had an 50-strong Gymnastics team which was renowned throughout the 70’s and 80’s.
I read the school’s 1997 Prospectus which detailed curriculum intent and vision, before OFSTED was on hand to demand these.
I read the final log-book entry from a valiant Headteacher, retiring in 1992. She reflected on a life spent serving the Blackhorse community. The changes she’d seen in society, community and teaching pedagogy. She wrote, in beautifully-scripted fountain pen (in the thick leather-bound log book) her reflections as the sun set on her moment.
I read about a thousand moments in the school’s journey. The benign. The profound. The ridiculous.
Whakapapa.
Dear reader, remember this: we stand on the shoulders of giants.
Giants who we often dismiss. But yet sleep beneath our feet.
Don’t get me wrong. I do actually still believe that the profession is more ‘professional’ and ‘researched informed’ than at any time in the past. More children achieve more in the 2020’s than they did in the 1960’s. We have gained some (but only some) understanding of how children learn. But only looking at our current practice, devoid of the long arc of teaching history, encourages a mindset which sees only failure and sloth in the past.
By viewing the profession’s past as a quaint irrelevance we at best risk not learning from our teaching ancestors, and at worst erase the great leaps forward which were hard won by generations of teachers who were just as dedicated and curious as we are today.
So to all you trendy ‘Research Ed-ers’; to all you crazy ‘progs’; to all you ‘trads’; consumed with the certainty of belief: take a beat.
We may currently stand in the sun. We may be experiencing success and validation for our practice given the current metrics.
But look to your left. To the invisible army of teachers which came before you. Who read, researched, experimented, refined and developed new practice. New practice which, as imperfect as it was, provided the foundations for our moment in the sun.
And then look to your right. The cohort of educators which will follow you. Work hard to lay foundations on which they can build. Understand that we currently know but a fraction of how young minds learn. That in 50 years, naïve young ECT’s will view your (research-informed) practice as ‘quaint’.
And then get on making our moment in the teaching sun shine brightly.
Every future generation of educators will depend upon it.
southgloshead 
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