Parents and schools: a partnership from birth

I recently read Paul Tough’s excellent book, ‘Whatever It Takes’, the story of Geoffrey Canada, the pioneering Harlem principal who created the Harlem Children’s Zone, which has revolutionised the life chances of thousands of some of New York’s poorest and most disadvantaged children. It is an absolutely fascinating – and inspiring – read, which demonstrates how with determination and an uncompromising vision, almost anything is possible, and I thoroughly recommend it. What particularly struck me, however, was how Geoffrey Canada realised at an early stage that in order for his plan to work, he needed to engage with parents and their children at the very earliest stage of their lives. Parenting is really important, he realised, but parents could not necessarily be expected to parent all on their own.

The Harlem Children’s Zone came about in part because of the influence of research such as that done by Hart and Risley in the early 1980’s. They conducted ethnographic linguistic studies of the interactions in 42 families with newborn babies in Kansas City and were able to make a sharp distinction between the size of the vocabularies employed in families with professional parents and those with parents on welfare. By the age of 3, children in families with professional parents had a vocabulary of around 1,100 words, while children in families with parents on welfare had a vocabulary of only around 525 words. The IQs of these children corresponded very closely to these vocabularies: the average IQ of children in professional families was 117, while the children in families on welfare had an average IQ of only 79. The researchers were able to go further, and identify that the children’s vocabularies were directly related to the number and type of utterances to which they were exposed in their families.

Geoffrey Canada needed the parents of children in Harlem to know that they could increase the IQ – and life chances – of their children by talking to them more often, and in different ways, and so he set up Baby College, sending out staff to recruit parents (or parents-to-be), to get them to hear what they needed to do. He recognised that parents cannot be expected to know everything; they need other people – society, if you will – to help share with them the experience and knowledge that we are gaining all the time about how to help our children.

It is very easy in today’s world to victimise parents and blame them for all their children’s ills. But parenting is a hard enough skill – if not a way of life – without the added pressure of constant blame. Parents do not need more pressure. What they do need is help, support, guidance, and a sense that we are all in this together. We have a collective responsibility to bring up our children, and we all need to work to make this happen.

Geoffrey Canada understood this, and has transformed the lives of poor children in Harlem as a result. It is an inspiring story, and we can all learn from it. Together – schools and parents – we are stronger – and our children cannot fail but to benefit from this.

 

Investing in women is the smart thing to do

With the celebrations and messages of International Women’s Day last week still reverberating, I thought I would devote this blog to reminding us why it is so important that we devote time, energy and resources to developing opportunities for women throughout the world. Justine Greening, the UK Government Secretary of State for International Development recently gave a speech in which she covered, eloquently, all bases, and I quote from it below. The whole speech can be read here; I leave her words below to speak for themselves.

And I wish you an ongoing Happy International Women’s Day. Here’s to a brighter, fairer future for all women throughout the world.

Investing in girls and women is the smart thing to do.

By unleashing their potential, we see incredible returns for girls and women themselves, for their families and communities, and for their economies and countries.

Some people have called it the Girl Effect:

In education, we know that getting girls through primary and secondary school works.

An extra year of primary schooling for girls increases their wages by up to 20% and for secondary school it’s even higher.

More time in education means that girls face a lower risk of sexual violence, they marry later, have fewer children, and have better health outcomes for the children they do have.

It’s better for them and their families and communities.

We know that when a woman generates her own income she re-invests 90% of it in her family and community.

And it’s better for their economies and countries.

In India, the states with more women in work have seen faster economic growth and the largest reductions in poverty.

In Pakistan, women entering the national parliament on a gender quota were able to work successfully across party lines on legislation relating to honour killing and acid crime control.

Countries with higher civic engagement and stronger attitudes towards equality and fairness towards women have significantly higher levels of per capita income in the long run.

But of course investing in girls and women isn’t only the smart thing to do, but also the right thing to do.

This is a matter of universal, basic human rights. It is about girls’ and women’s right to have control over their own bodies, to have a voice in their community and country; to live a life free of the fear of violence; to choose who to marry and when; it’s about their right to be in education, which gives them a chance of productive work, and a chance to choose how they spend that money they earn.

Locking out women isn’t just bad for an economy, it’s bad for a society. It seems common sense, but it’s still happening.

From the very start girls lose out.

They lose out at school, with less than one in five girls in sub-Saharan Africa making it to secondary school.

They lose out when they are married, with one third of girls in the developing world marrying before the age of 18, some as young as seven years old.

And when they have their first child, in spite of dramatic progress, medical complications from pregnancy and childbirth are still the leading cause of death amongst 15 to 19 year old girls worldwide. 

Women perform two thirds of the world’s work, produce half of the food, but earn only 10% of the income and own only 1% of the property.

More broadly, all too often a women’s place in their community and society is downgraded:

In 11 countries, the testimony of a woman carries less evidentiary weight in a court than that of a man.

And although women make up more than half the population, they represent only 20% of political leaders in the world […]

Perhaps most unacceptably, how women are physically treated is often underpinned by violence.

Around the world one in three girls and women will be beaten or raped in their lifetime. Perhaps this statistic is so shocking that it simply overwhelms us.

But we urgently need irreversible gains in the rights for girls and women and an end to violence against girls and women.

[…] these issues represent the greatest unmet challenges of our time, not some sideline issue. And we cannot turn a blind eye. Nearly one hundred years after women in Britain got the vote, 180 years after the abolition of slavery, gaining the most basic human rights for women around our world right now, remains perhaps the most profound human challenge the world has.

Stop telling girls untruths about Maths

Many international brows are beaten on a regular basis about why girls do not seem to choose to study Mathematics with the same enthusiasm or to the same level as boys, and the most recent manifestation of this was on the front page of the Sydney Morning Herald. A recent Australian study has shown that the number of girls eligible for an ATAR (the ranking, derived from the Higher School Certificate, which permits entry to Australian universities) who have not studied Maths as part of their final two year course at school has risen from 7.5% in 2001 to 21.5% in 2011. In other words, over a fifth of girls in Australia are not studying Maths to university entrance level. Similar stories abound across the globe.

There is no doubt that the study of Maths is important. Maths teaches us about relationships between space and time. It reveals patterns and helps us to understand designs and configurations. It helps us to appreciate the world around us. It is a beautiful subject.

Moreover, Maths opens the door to careers which are important and growing now, and will be even more significant in the future; as we rely ever more heavily on technology, and as we seek solutions to ever more complex problems around population growth, disease, food security and climate change, Maths and Science-related jobs are going to be where the action is. Although we will always need great liberal thinkers, historians and linguists, among many, many other disciplines, for a well-balanced and well-oiled society, there is no doubt that Maths will underpin many of our practical needs for the next few decades. A recent report by the Royal Academy of Engineering highlighted the steep increase in need for engineers over the next decade; the fact that on current reckonings, only a fraction of this percentage will be trained is therefore really concerning, and the additional fact that statistics are showing that girls – half of the population – seem reluctant to take to Maths is even more deeply concerning as a result.

What can we do about this? How do we ensure that girls choose to take Maths? Of course, in many countries in the world girls are still prevented – by poverty, cultural expectations or religious fundamentalism – from having an education at all, so a discussion about how to encourage girls to take up Maths may in this context seem a luxury, but the question in a wider world context is still undeniably an important one.

The answer is actually very, very simple: we have to stop telling girls that beauty is more important than brawn or brains.

We don’t as a culture think that we do this, of course. But tune in to any group of adoring adults around a little baby girl, and you will hear exclamations of praise for her beauty that you will not hear in a group clustering around a little baby boy. Words like ‘pretty’, ‘sweet’ and ‘cute’ associate themselves with girls ahead of boys and no matter how linguistically aware you are, or how committed to gender equality, you will – if you are honest – recognise this association. This focus on girls’ appearance, started young, becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy and translates into gender specific toys through childhood, rackloads of pink and frilly clothes in department stores, and teenage magazines where girls are taught how to preen and prettify themselves, at the expense of their self-esteem and their focus on doing and thinking rather than just appearing.

There are perfectly understandable reasons for this – until quite recently in our history, being pretty most definitely mattered to girls and to their life chances. Praising beauty was the right thing to do for girl babies; teaching them how to be successful wives or courtesans was important. Generations – hundreds and thousands of generations – of girls have grown up with these messages. Now, of course, we believe that girls should have the same access as boys to happiness and status; we believe fervently in equal opportunities, and in moving on from the past to a better, more harmonious future. Where we fall down is that the old messages are so embedded that they have become assumptions, unchallenged and therefore harder to shift without critical awareness and thought. Hidden prejudice is always so much harder to dismantle.

It is of course possible to change cultural perceptions of girls and women – and indeed, when you enter forward-thinking girls’ schools, who are explicit in countering this cultural perception of girls, you will find the hard statistics that show how many more girls take Maths to a higher level than the national or international average would indicate. Equality is the key; as demonstrated in a 2011 University of Wisconsin study of 86 countries, quoted in the UK’s Daily Telegraph last year, girls do better in Maths when raised in countries where females have better equality. (In fact, gender equality also boosts boys’ performance in Maths – a win-win situation for all.)

Real equality – not just the legislative frameworks, but the changing of hearts and minds – takes work. The first step is a real and continued effort to expose hidden assumptions and gently but firmly move our power-brokers, the media and the average person in the street through to a position where we can all remove these pressures on girls so that they can release their inner mathematician. If we want these engineers of the future, it is up to us all to make it happen.

 

The Road of Lost Innocence: The True Story of a Cambodian Heroine

As I said to girls in Assembly last week, even when we are very busy, we must find time to read. Reading stretches the mind and fills the soul, and we are not complete human beings without it.

This is true of books even when – perhaps especially when – they deal with subjects that we find painful to contemplate. I have just finished reading a book about Cambodia – “The Road of Lost Innocence”, by Somaly Mam – and it was a very, very painful book to read. Originally published in 2005 in France (and translated into English for publication in 2009), it is the autobiography of a Cambodian woman who was sold into sexual slavery by her grandfather when she was twelve. The brutality that she faced in the brothels where she was housed is almost beyond imagination; her tale is dreadfully disturbing, and I would hesitate to recommend this book to young people (certainly without their parents having read it first), even though they need, at some point in their lives, sooner rather than later, to understand that such terrible violence against girls and young women takes place.

This book was recommended to me by a former teacher at school who remains so passionate about Ascham’s involvement in Cambodia – building and supporting two schools in the remote province of Mondulkiri – that she continues to visit and fundraise. Each year, a group of girls go out to visit these schools, bringing supplies, and undertaking some teaching, and as each year passes, the relationship between Ascham and the Ascham Cambodian schools grows stronger. As I read ‘The Road of Lost Innocence’, and as I understood more of the terrible history of Cambodia, I was grateful for this relationship. I was reminded incredibly powerfully of why it is so important that we do not restrict our thoughts and our aspirations to the (largely comfortable) day-to-day activities we experience. It is our duty and responsibility as human beings to reach out beyond our everyday life towards the needs and requirements of fellow human beings who are less equipped or able than us to manage their own needs.

And I was reminded too that out of adversity can come great strength. Somaly Mam’s story began in poverty and horror, but after she escaped her incarceration in her early twenties, and rebuilt her life, she became an internationally recognised fighter against the sex trade in Cambodia, helping and rescuing girls as young as five or six. She has made a phenomenal difference in her life since.

International Women’s Day is not far off now; as we approach it, we should offer our applause and praise for all women who survive against the odds, and then seek to make a positive impact on the world. We salute you.

 

Schools: places of amazing professional learning

Schools are at their essence about students – the student sits (or should sit) at the heart of all endeavour in the school; schools are there in order to educate students and to assist in guiding their personal development and growth. Schools were invented to ensure that young people were well-prepared to play a role in society – this is why they are so important, and why we should value them. They enable children to become adults. This is the central and immovable reason for their existence.

We should not, however, overlook the teachers who prompt, facilitate, guide and oversee this incredibly important process. A campaign to recruit teachers in the UK in the late 1990s had as its slogan “No-one forgets a good teacher”, and this struck a chord because it is very true. Teachers matter to young people precisely because they are the people who will often have unlocked the understanding that they were seeking, or because they will have eased their fears, or because they will have shown them how to develop and practise the tools to be able to organise and extend their own learning. What teachers give is a gift – not hand-delivered on a platter, but teased out of individual students so that it becomes theirs: teachers give students the gift of their own education.

Without teachers, no student would learn to the same degree; or at the least, it would be much, much harder. The best teachers will not tell students what to think, but will guide them, wisely, into learning how to think. The best teachers will respond to the very individual needs – mental, physical and emotional – of students, and will go out of their way to observe, understand and evaluate the impact that they as teachers are having, so as to redirect their efforts to make them most effective. Teachers empower students.

It is only right, therefore, that we should invest in the professional and personal growth of these important people. With the exception of witnessing the growth and learning of young people, there is little that is more exciting than seeing the growth and development of teachers, because this will impact directly and positively on their ability to be able to educate. And it is particularly thrilling to see this growth and development of teachers stimulated by their colleagues – by professional conversations, by insights gained into the work that goes on in different disciplines, presented to teachers by teachers. For we are all in schools not as individuals, but as a team, with the child at the heart, and when we work together to connect what we do, both latitudinally in the present, and longitudinally from pre-school to university entry and beyond, the quality of education of that child is unsurpassable. We should absolutely be enabling our teachers to learn and grow, just as we enable our students to learn and grow.

And hooray for our amazing teachers!

 

Why it really matters that our athletes are free from drugs

Hot on the heels of Lance Armstrong’s confessions to doping, aired across the world, have come further revelations of drug taking at high levels of sport. Last week, the Australian Crime Commission released a report that effectively accused top level sportspeople (as yet unidentified) of taking drugs – and, to make the situation even worse (if indeed it could be any worse), of links to organised crime which may potentially have led to match-fixing too.

To say that Australia has been severely disturbed by the scandal would be an understatement. A father said to me recently that Australians are laid back about everything except sport, and there is a huge passion attached to sport in this country which is enviable. When this is understood alongside the strong Australian sense of fairness and fair play, it is not surprising that the ACC report has caused such a massive stir.

It matters an enormous amount that athletes do not attempt to enhance their performance with artificial substances – that, in other words, they do not attempt to cheat. These sporting stars (and rising stars) are role models to whom we point our young people to counter the pernicious influences that arise in a world which has – regrettably – embraced Andy Warhol’s “15 minutes of fame for everyone”. We want our young people to do sport because it is not only essential for their physical wellbeing, but it is also a great discipline, both physically and psychologically. We want our young people to be inspired by those who have worked hard to achieve the highest levels of fitness and sporting achievement because it proves that if they too work hard, they can achieve their goals. Our sports stars are role models – we look up to them, and they are hugely influential on young people.

If these sports stars turn out not to be as they seemed, then they are communicating that it is all right to cheat and manipulate … and this is wrong. It is not right to cheat; integrity and honesty are key values in the world, and we abandon them at our peril. I have written before about the intense disappointment that comes when it is discovered that great sporting stars turn out to have been false idols because of their doping. By the sounds of it, we will have a number of severe disappointments ahead of us, and we are right to feel let down.

We are going to have to find a way through this disappointment, to re-establish our trust and our faith in our sporting heroes, and we can start by delighting in the performances at school level of some amazing athletes (I write on the back of witnessing some excellent tennis and fantastic rowing this past weekend). In turn, the elite athletes of today must never forget – ever – their responsibility as role models for all the young people aspiring to find their way on to the podiums of the future.

 

Why every school should have a school song

In our first senior school Assembly of term last week, the very first thing we did was to sing the school song. This song refers to the history of Ascham (which was named after the tutor to the great Queen Elizabeth I, Roger Ascham), and then continues with these words:

With heart and soul we tread the way

Which leads to freedom and to truth

To do our best in work and play

And by our actions show the proof

Which dwells in our sincerity

O Ascham this we owe to thee

Vi et animo – With Heart and Soul – is the school motto, and it struck me, as the theatre resounded with the sound of strong female voices, how important it is to reflect regularly and openly on what schools stand for. Exploring the words of the school song reminds us why we are in school: With heart and soul – that is to say, in everything we do, with our entire being – we tread the way – we learn, we become educated, we move forward, we grow – the way Which leads to freedom and to truth – we have a goal, a vision that transcends our daily lives – To do our best in work and play – we give our all, we do and are the best we can be – And by our actions show the proof – we commit to this, we will do this – the proof Which dwells in our sincerity – our intentions are sound, they are based on strong values, and we mean them.

Schools – great schools, that is – are very strong and vibrant places, with a clear purpose. And what is learned at school is far from restricted to academic subjects or school activities. At school, students are in fact learning about themselves, and about others. They are learning about their capabilities, they are learning what it is they have to offer to the world, and they are learning to look up and beyond who they are currently are, to who they can and should become.

Moreover, they are learning to live with other people, to relate to other people, to appreciate and respect other people, because their life will be richer in the future because of others, and so will the lives of others because of them.

Most importantly of all, our students in schools are learning all of this because they have a huge responsibility in life – they are learning to make the most of who they are, and to become the best person they can become, so that they can contribute to making the world a better place. It is our collective responsibility as a society and as a human race, and this is why, ultimately schools exist.

Our school song is very clear – we are committing to treading the way to freedom and truth, to doing our best and to making a difference in the world. It is so easy, from day to day, to be caught up with the practicalities and logistics of life, and to tumble from one thing to the next without taking time to reflect on our purpose, let alone to articulate it clearly and beautifully in word and music. Schools are places where groups of young people gather together with a purpose and an intent that speaks of the hope they are offering for the future and for our world.

Let us sing this from the rooftops.

Raising Girls: why schools and parents make a perfect combination

Steve Biddulph’s latest book, Raising Girls, caused a bit of a stir when it was published earlier this month, and with reason: it is a very sensible addition to the literature on how girls grow up, and parents of girls should find it of genuine interest. Pressures on girls in our society are enormous – overwhelming, even, at times – and sometimes as parents we forget what it was like to feel a shifting mix of powerful emotions, deep insecurities, unbearable frustrations and great uncertainties, all within a short space of time. Moreover, some pressures exist today that did not exist in the same way for parents – pressures to appear and act in certain ways – and for this reason too, parents will find Mr Biddulph’s book helpful, and even, in places, possibly a revelation.

I was, however, struck by the – perhaps inadvertent – additional pressure that the book places on parents by concentrating on the role that they have to play in making sure that their daughters learn to navigate the minefield of teenagehood. Parenting is in any case one of the hardest jobs in the world; when parents feel that they alone are responsible for bringing up their daughters, it can seem even harder. Of course, parenting is essential for the happy upbringing of children, but we often forget the wise old notion that it takes a village truly to raise a child. In our society, there is an enormous pressure on parents to be ‘perfect’, to create ‘perfect’ children and to lead ‘perfect’ lives. If life in reality turns out to be less than this perception of perfection, then parents can feel failures, and books which attempt to show them how they should in fact be doing things, can simply add to this sense that they are not good enough parents.

In truth, parents who do their best are being perfectly good parents. What they need is the support of extended families and of wider communities to help provide the grounding that it is nigh impossible for individuals to provide for children as they become teenagers and young adults. For their part, these young adults also need to hear other voices and encounter other interpretations of our diverse world if they are to learn to make sense of it, and to grow to understand others. When other adults support parents, it spreads the load of expectation in bringing up a child, and it brings to that child fresh and valuable perspectives, not least on who she is, and who she can be. When schools – and the numerous potential mentors they contain – are brought into the equation, this spectrum of understanding, support and available guidance is widened further.

Schools exist to educate young people, but it is a mistake to think that this education is separate from, or at odds with, what happens beyond the school gates. Schools are about helping everyone associated with a child – her parents, her relatives, her friends, her teachers, and above all herself – to understand who she is: a multi-faceted, unique combination of talents and interests. The collective task of all those who surround a child, from infancy to adulthood, is to do something about this: to strengthen her strengths, to help her be resilient in approaching those areas in which she is less strong, and to grow her heart, her mind, and her soul.

Steve Biddulph may not spend much time in his book on this aspect of raising girls, but schools – and especially girls’ schools – are expert at this. Together we are preparing the girls of today to be the great women of tomorrow.

 

Learning from the great women of this world: the humility of a local hero

At the weekend I attended the celebration dinner of the annual Student Leadership Conference run by the Alliance of Girls’ Schools (Australasia) – a fabulous 4 day conference in which Head Girls and their Deputies from girls’ schools in Australia, New Zealand, Hong Kong, Singapore, the Phillippines and further afield, including the US, are led through a journey of self-discovery and affirmation of their ability to lead themselves and their peers. The dinner – the first time I had attended, obviously – was held this year at the Women’s College at the University of Sydney, and the guest speaker was an amazingly modest woman who held the hall – all 160 girls plus numerous school principals and guests – in thrall.

Her name was Lynne Sawyers, and you can hear her story here, on YouTube, and read an interview with her here. She is (very) fast approaching her 70th birthday, but is still active in the role for which she was awarded the honour of Australia’s Local Hero 2012 – the role of foster parent. She and her husband have fostered more than 200 children over the past few decades, and her utter commitment to giving a better life to those in need shone through the words in her speech. She recognised, when her own youngest child was still a baby, that there were many children whose childhood was far less happy than was hers as a child, and she resolved to do something about it. Sometimes children stayed with her for a few days, sometimes for several years. She talked about them with pride but also with a modesty about her role that underplayed her crucial influence on the life of these young people.

Not all children have the benefit of a stable family background; even those who do can still suffer from anxieties that take them off track in life. Young people need significant adults in their lives as well as their parents and their friends, to help them test out who they are and work out in what direction they should be headed – not just to please themselves, but to ensure that they make a really valuable contribution to the lives of others. These significant adults – whether they are sports coaches, teachers, close family friends, teachers or indeed foster parents – can help provide the glue in the lives of young people, giving them the courage and means to reach out and fulfil their own, immense potential.

Lynne Sawyers embodied that essence of significant adult, and the girls who heard her speak understood this. At the end of the questions after her speech, one girl went up to the podium and said: “I don’t have a question; I just want to give you a hug.” She did, the hall of the Women’s College erupted, and we all shared in the recognition of the power of humility and service.

We can learn so much from the great women of this world.

 

 

Dalton style

I have just been re-reading Helen Parkhurst’s excellent book ‘Education on the Dalton Plan’, and I thoroughly recommend it to discerning educators and those interested in how children learn in schools. Written and published in 1922, it contains an exposition, analysis and case studies of the progressive educational approach – the Dalton Plan – which Helen Parkhurst developed in the early decades of the 20th century. Her theory – which she demonstrated successfully in practice – was that children need space and time in which to learn; learning cannot be pre-determined in convenient chunks, and to try to mould a child’s learning to a fixed timetable is to do him or her a great disservice.

Helen Parkhurst came up with a practical plan to enable children to learn in ways that suited them rather than suited the dictates of a timetable: she ensured that the students in the schools in which she worked had access to clear, detailed assignments – a month’s work in each subject – in which were laid out the problems they had to solve. Teachers then were available to the children, and were able to work with the children to draw out their understanding in a much more individual and personal way. Helen Parkhurst called these ‘Laboratories’ – the classroom was transformed into a place of experimentation, and the student was able to discover the answers. A strong framework of progress checking and corrections was the final piece of her approach, and this ensured that all students made excellent progress – but with regard for their own individual learning styles and capabilities.

Ascham School, of course, has used a modified form of the Dalton Plan ever since one of its great Headmistresses, Miss Bailey, brought the plan to Australia in the 1920s, and it is hugely successful. Reading Helen Parkhurst today, one cannot fail but to be impressed by her no-nonsense, eminently sensible and far-sighted approach to educating in schools. In fact, one has the distinct impression that had our politicians and educational policy-makers spent more time over the past century reading her book, and less trying to fit more and more assessment into an already crowded curriculum, state-sponsored education in general might have had far more successful outcomes. “The true business of school”, she writes, “is not to chain the pupil to preconceived ideas, but to set him free to discover his own ideas and to help him to bring all his powers to bear upon the problem of learning.” (p.105). When writing about the problems of her age, she could almost be writing about the very same issues we have as educators in schools today when we are faced with the demands of exam boards and external assessment: “Today we think too much of curricula and too little about boys and girls … Subject difficulties concern students, not teachers. The curriculum is but our technique, a means to an end.” (p.23).

Christmas has now passed, but when our policy makers come round to thinking about what they want for Christmas in 2013, they could do far worse than to request a reprint of Helen Parkhurst’s tome. In the meantime, the Dalton Plan is alive and well in many great schools around the world. Ascham girls are, thankfully, not the only ones to have – so I have heard – ‘Dalton style’.