Spectator schools

Thursday

Harry Mount

Looking up an old friend

As far as I know, there’s no word in the English language for feeling both terrified and smug at the same time. That’s how I felt when I gave a recent talk to my old school, Westminster, from the pulpit in Westminster Abbey. The talk was about how guilty I felt at taking the Westminster Abbey for granted when I was a boy there in the 1980s — the abbey being the school chapel. I worked out that I’d been to the abbey 400 times when I was at school. Well, to be precise, that’s 400 minus the number of times I bunked abbey — which I began to do

Aidan Hartley

The master Builder who made me

Michael Schützer-Weissmann was the greatest teacher I ever had. When I was 17, I got into trouble at Sherborne, my school in Dorset, after a friend and I each drank a bottle of whisky. I felt splendid, but my friend had to be stomach-pumped. For that the headmaster, Robert Macnaghten, caned me. It was amazing that he managed to hit me six times, because he was famously blind — and had once awarded a detention to a coat hung on a peg at the end of his classroom, mistaking it for a boy refusing to sit down. Caning probably saved me from expulsion, but I was thoroughly fed up with

Laura Freeman Laura Freeman

When the slop had to stop

A spirited debate is under way at the Year One lunch table. This class of five-year-old Hackney epicures are discussing the merits of olives. ‘Olives are too disgusting and greeny,’ says Marley, prodding at the offending olive. ‘Olives are too yucky,’ joins in Eduardo, who is carefully hiding them under his knife. But Asar, a boy who obviously has a more developed palate, declares them ‘yummy’ and devours the lot. Olives are just one of the unfamiliar ingredients on plates at Gayhurst Community School on the edge of London Fields in north-east London. There are sticky pork ribs, a tabouleh made with mograbiah (giant couscous), parsley and tomatoes, sweetcorn fritters,

Constance Watson

Is a degree worth the debt?

You’ll never get into a good university if you carry on like this.’ A haunting threat from school days past, but since the coalition trebled university tuition fees in 2010, the question is — do you really want to? The decision to increase fees to a maximum of £9,000 a year was met with anger from students and parents alike. Riots broke out with police arresting 153 people at a demo in Trafalgar Square. Widespread fury was particularly directed at Deputy Prime Minister Nick Clegg, who had pledged to vote against any increase in fees — so much so that he was forced to broadcast a public apology: ‘We made

Alexandra Farrelly

The Force is still with me

My initial reaction on learning that my secondary school had compulsory CCF — Combined Cadet Force — on Wednesday afternoons was one of horror. As an ‘army brat’, the child of an officer, I was mortified to be following in my father’s footsteps and completing assault courses and weighted swims every single week. However, my view of the CCF was to change dramatically over the following five years. At 14, I aimed to be the coolest camo-clad teenager for our first day. On the evening before, we lurked in our boarding houses and laboriously pinned in our trousers, practised ‘messy buns’ and pouted in a mirror while sporting red lipstick. Unfortunately,

Alice Cockerell

Is there still a place for single-sex schools?

NO I am pretty sure my all-girl school turned me into a delinquent. All right, I might not have peed in phone boxes, graffiti’d on trains or spent time in a state penitentiary. But for all of this, I definitely think a strain of delinquency was bred into me by single–sex education. Just outside a sedentary market town in the West Country, my boarding school had presumably been chosen by my mother to instil in me a measure of gentility; it certainly wasn’t for the academia. Old dames, many of whom had been at the school themselves during the Boer War, made up the teaching staff. It is hard to

Ed Clarke

The joy of grammar

A virulent epidemic has in recent years spread across our island nation. I speak not of bird flu, Ebola or the plague, but of grammatophobia: the irrational fear of grammar, its necessity and its teaching in our schools. This has proven both highly contagious and severe in its consequences. The symptoms have never been more apparent than in the hysterical reaction to the government’s new Spag (spelling, punctuation and grammar) test for 11-year-olds. ‘This curriculum is the direct result of a government’s Gradgrind approach to curriculum development,’ thundered Mary Bousted of the Association of Teachers and Lecturers in the TES. This Dickensian term is used for anyone with the temerity

Beth Noakes

Queue for boarding

Those whose only experience of packing school trunks is via Mallory Towers, Kingscote or Hogwarts may be relaxed about the rise in boarding-school fees. But with annual fees at some of our best-known boarding schools approaching £40,000, traditional boarding families which don’t include a hedge-fund manager, prime minster or Kazakhstani oligarch may well be casting a nervous eye at the private day school down the road. Or they, and others who prefer a broader social mix, may instead be applying to a different and little-known breed of boarding school. A state one, where tuition is free. Some charge for extended ‘day-boarding’ places (boarding life without the sleepovers), but full or

Mark Palmer

Blazers of glory

Most mornings on the way to work I pass students flowing out of Fulham Broadway tube station en route to the London Oratory School. They are an assorted bunch. Some seem more confident than others. One or two of the boys look immaculate, while others have clearly stirred their cornflakes with their ties. Some of the girls appear remarkably grown- up for their age — but presumably that’s my ‘how-come-policemen-are-getting-younger’ syndrome. What they share apart, obviously, from wishing they were still tucked up in bed, is a uniform chosen for them by the school, which they have adapted with varying success to their own personalities or moods on any given

Ross Clark Ross Clark

Can a school share out its success?

They have enviable results in the classroom and on the sports field. They command substantial fees and send large numbers of pupils to top universities. So why have leading private schools found it such heavy going transferring their success when sponsoring state schools? It seemed the ideal solution to help break down the great barrier between state and private schooling, as well as to address the charge that private schools were not doing enough to justify their charitable status: a leading private school takes a struggling state school under its wing, lends it some expertise, allows it to use some of its facilities and even shares some of its teachers.

Thursday

Camilla Swift

Thinking inside the box | 17 September 2015

There are almost half a million foreign students in the UK — at boarding schools, universities and colleges. In independent schools alone, one in five new students are from abroad. And this creates a problem that no one really thinks about. What do these children do with all their belongings? Any parent who has sent their child off to school, boarding or not, will remember the seemingly endless school uniform list. ‘Two pairs of black, lace-up, polishable shoes, plus a pair of Sunday shoes.’ (What’s wrong with using Friday shoes on a Sunday?) Trunks, bath sheets, three pairs of pyjamas… and the games kit, of course. Tennis rackets, hockey sticks,

Ysenda Maxtone Graham

The perils of prep

‘We will have to look at how we are doing things. Will we even be doing prep?’ So spoke Eve Jardine-Young, principal of Cheltenham Ladies’ College, this summer, galvanised to speak out by the alarming increase in depression among teenagers. It was brave of her even to question the need for prep: in our age of competitive league tables, it seems heresy to suggest any kind of decrease in daily output from students. But she is right to question it, and I hope her tentative question will soon be transformed into an untentative statement: prep should not be routinely given, and it should only be given if there’s a compelling

Lauren Nicholson-Ward

Saints preserve us

Teaching is, and always has been, challenging. As society changes, so do the demands on educators. Every new generation at the chalkface likes to grumble that they have it worse than their predecessors and that their working lives are tougher than those of people in other professions. In response to this, friends working in, say, the City tend to mention the school holidays. The long summer break is a source of smugness for teachers, but the truth is that most of us love our jobs, and not just because of the glorious ‘six weeks’. One thing that I keep coming back to, though, is the very real difficulty of teaching

Edward Webster

Tutoring: a weapon against the blob

The tuition industry is growing rapidly in Britain, doing great work in improving numeracy and literacy and also aiding social mobility and aspiration. As former Marlborough headmaster Edward Gould said, the bigger the fence, the more ladders parents will use to get their children over the top. At the expensive end of the spectrum, oligarchs prep their children to within an inch of their lives over the three months before they take the Common Entrance. Consultants such as Bonas MacFarlane make it their business to shoehorn these children into schools the parents had never heard of 12 months before. Alternatively, there are the prep school parents who in the holidays quietly pull out their

Katherine Whitbourn

The horror of exams

My heart is pounding, my hands are shaking and there’s a leaden feeling in the pit of my stomach. My pupils are dilated and my digestive process has ground to a halt. My sympathetic nervous system is kicking in and activating its ‘fight or flight’ response. And how do I know all this? Because the subject of ‘Stress, and the Body’s Reaction to It’ is one of the topics on the AQA AS-level psychology syllabus — an exam I’m just about to sit. Stress? I don’t just know about it. I’m living it. Three decades after I last took an exam, I am standing outside the sports hall of my

Constance Watson

Customs of the country

There are some things that will always be in competition. The Capulets and the Montagues; William Brown and Hubert Lane; the NHS and Bupa. They thrive on the tension, and there is always a story to be told. Such is the case with schooling in this country. The education system, and the battle between private and state education, receives vast amounts of media attention. We often hear about why the state system is ‘failing’ — or conversely, more recently, triumphing. Then there’s the perennial university conundrum: last year the Department for Education predicted that privately educated applicants would be five times more likely to gain admission to Oxbridge than students

Sophia Waugh

State secrets

So much of the divide between state and private schools is a matter of mere perception — the perceptions of the teachers, the parents and the children. When, years ago, I announced that I would be sending my children to state schools, my colleagues (journalists on a national newspaper) turned on me as a pack of hounds, baying their disgust at what they called my willingness to ‘experiment’ on my own children. Move over Mengele, here comes Waugh. There are of course differences between the two types of education — but how many of them really matter? For my (yes, state-educated) children, many of the differences they saw between their

Muriel Gray

The complete picture

Everything in the 21st-century developed world is something the 21st-century developed world believes it can monetise. Children, and their education, are most certainly not exempt from this paradigm. Educationalists rarely tire of worrying about how the next generation are falling behind in just about everything compared with their equivalents in those pesky developing nations. Somewhere else in the world, countries are churning out prodigies, geniuses and work–ethically driven automatons who would rather kick in their own heads than kick a football if it meant missing an hour of maths tuition. Naturally this is a concern when we rely on the next generation to invent, discover, build and deliver the things

Tony Little

Inside the teenage brain

Why on earth did you do it?’ must be one of the most frequently posed questions to teenagers. The bright, ambitious boy standing before me is perplexed: prompted by a video clip online, he has liberally sprayed aerosol on his torso and then set fire to himself. There is a pause, then, ‘It seemed like a good idea at the time.’ In matters trivial, dramatic or, in this case, painful, teenagers seem to behave in bizarre ways. It is tempting for parents to believe that once our children reach adolescence somehow the huge gulf between childhood and adulthood has been bridged. We tend to believe that we are dealing with

Cindy Yu Cindy Yu

China’s battery-farm schools

In the early morning light, the sleepy students of Hengshui Senior Secondary School are putting on their tracksuits in the dimly lit dormitories. It’s 5.30 a.m. By the time lessons begin at 7.45 they have already had morning exercise, an hour of self-study and a balanced breakfast. Under a strict regime that you might think belonged at a correctional centre, the youngsters are getting ready for another day in this high-achieving school in China. As one of the country’s ‘exam factories’, Hengshui has perfected the art of battery-farming children to produce exceptional results. A day in the life of the Hengshui student consists of a constant loop of work, rest,