Category: Education

  • Problems in English

    Problems in English

    Notes from Making Meaning in English by David Didau (2021)

    Chapter 2: Problems in English

    This chapter defines English as a “folk discipline” where its teachers have limited understanding of effective approaches. Didau dismisses “skills-based” teaching and, instead, proposes a “knowledge-based” approach. He also shows concern that students practise the wrong things. Much of the later part of the chapter involves examples of approaches to teaching aspects of English.

    • Didau focuses on the issue that “we don’t have a codified body of knowledge of how to achieve these aims” of how English should be taught. He suggests that “English has become a folk discipline with craft knowledge passed down in individual departments without much recourse to empirical observation or evaluation.”
    • Regular marking is identified as part of the “folk discipline” that Didau (citing Newbolt) consider “counterproductive” and praises systems for whole-class feedback.
    • Didau draws attention to the “axiomatic beliefs” he views as misguided:
    • The “skills-based” subject assumption. This is, he feels the cause of many problems in teaching English. Didau cites Michael Oakeshott in suggesting that only detail can be taught (not general principles). From this, Didau asserts: “We can’t teach skill; we can only teach knowledge”. He suggests that disadvantaged children are most failed by a “skills-based” approach:
      • “The students who seem most resistant to this type of teaching are, on average, the less advantaged. They fail to acquire the skills we teach not because they’re less able but because they’ve done a lot less reading. Because they don’t have as much relevant prior knowledge they sometimes seem to possess the equivalent of intellectual Teflon: new knowledge has little relevant to grip onto.”
      • Didau’s contention is that only knowledge can be taught: “Although students need to acquire a range of skills, we can only teach them knowledge. Different kinds of knowledge may be taught differently: some things you can explain, others you have to point out during practice, but as all this knowledge accumulates, it begins to chunk together. To start, each item of knowledge is known inflexibly but, through repetition and practice, items become increasingly flexible the more they cohere with other related knowledge. Knowledge becomes skill through application within the area in which we hope to become skilled.” He uses the example of teaching use of quotations to illustrate this.
      • Next, Didau explains how skills become tacit and cites Michael Polanyi suggesting that “proxies or maxims” can be articulated (but can’t be used to teach the skills). Didau: “Everything we know explicitly depends on a more tacit understanding.” What is essential is understanding that: The idea that skill can be imparted without the hard work of teaching all the requisite knowledge is an illusion born from being unable to remember how we went about acquiring our own expertise.”
    • The practice assumption. “Practice makes permanent, not perfect” Didau asserts. He looks at children’s acquisition of reading skills and points out that “If students fail to automatise the ‘mechanical’ aspects of reading – decoding and word recognition – progress in reading stalls.” (I’m quite interested in Didau’s point about oral skills: “You might be persuaded that the best way to improve students’ reading comprehension is to teach oral comprehension skills but there is no evidence that this makes any difference to children’s reading skill. The best bet for improving comprehension is to spend more time reading.”).
      • Didau appears to argue that there aren’t such things as comprehension skills and goes on to claim that inference, analysis and evaluation can’t be practised. He uses an extract from Finnegan’s Wake to show how teaching “metacognitive strategies” (inference in this case) don’t work.
      • Instead, Didau argues that “All inferences depend on knowledge. Students may spend hours of lesson time successfully practising the skill of inference only to come completely unstuck when they encounter a text about which they know little. If we genuinely want children to become better at inferring, analysing, evaluating or any of the other so-called ‘skills’ on which success in English depends then they need to read much more widely, acquire a greater breadth of vocabulary and generally know more about the world around them. Being skilled is indistinguishable from being knowledgeable.”
      • He sees “strategies” rather than skills as having merit and gives the example of skimming and scanning. There’s a very good section where Didau explains how to teach skim and scan (involving identifying “head nouns”).
      • Didau also points out that students also ” have only a vague idea of what academic writing is supposed to look like – they know the sorts of words and phrases they should use – but they may have little understanding of the underlying content and therefore whatever they write is likely to be superficial at best and fatuous at worst.”
      • He has a term for the student writing – especially for exams – that is empty of significance “cargo cult writing”. Didau also suggest that students write less: “A radical-sounding suggestion for solving the stamina problem is for students to write less for longer.” There’s no point writing students writing essays if they can’t write a paragraph.
      • Citing Daist Christodoulou, Didau suggests that retrieval tasks (eg. Multiple-choice questions) based on texts builds knowledge and argues that: “instead of writing lengthy, summative paragraphs, time would be better spent in debating ideas and practising writing excellent sentences. Regularly writing analytical sentences about the content being studied demands that reasons are provided and consequences explained, and it provides excellent opportunities for expressing ideas clearly and succinctly.”
      • Another suggestion he makes is that the technical aspects of writing should be automised. He argues that teachers should not accept missing capital letters and that there should be “some sort of sanction” that encourages students to be accurate. He sees this as part of maintaining high expectations.
    • Didau challenges a “clockwork curriculum” where there is “a mechanistic conception of English in which texts are in danger of being reduced to lists of facts to learn and retrieve.” He points out the need to teach historical information “judiciously” so that it is relevant. He identifies the scope of “essential context” as:
      • “the place the text we’re studying has in the wider literary conversation. Is it part of a particular tradition, or is it responding to other texts?”
      • “We should also consider what else a writer has written: is this text typical of their output? Can we see the development of particular themes throughout their oeuvre?”
    • Didau is critical of knowledge organisers (“they suffer from being crammed with stuff that is unlikely to be particularly helpful”). He sees useful information for a knowledge organiser as being: historical context, stylistic features and terms, themes.
  • What is English for?

    What is English for?

    Notes from Making Meaning in English by David Didau (2021)

    Chapter 1: What is English for?

    This chapter presents the current state of English, drawing on its history as a school subject to explain how and why English seems “lost” as a school subject with teachers ignorant of its past and the triumph of pragmatism (functional) English over any progressive or idealistic aspirations for the subject. It’s effective in showing how confusing central government has been on teaching. (It’s interesting that Simon Gibbons or Margaret Mathieson aren’t in Didau’s bibliography as they present the history of English teaching from different perspectives other than official documentation, Arnold, Leavis and Holbrook. The history of English teaching is far richer and brimming with forgotten ideas and approaches than conveyed in this chapter.)

    • Didau asks what does English seek to achieve? His view is that different ideas about English “have pulled the subject in a number of competing directions” which he believes make it difficult to be unified in a commonly-agreed purpose.
    • Draws on George Sampson: “Yet it is in beauty and love and joy and laughter that we must find the way of speaking to the soul — the soul, that does not appear in the statistics and is therefore always left out of account.” Didau sees the tension between “pragmatism” and “soul” as being central to the purposes of English. Later in this chapter he refers to Sampson’s English for the English and the desire not to educate children as “tame and acquiescent ‘labour fodder’”.
    • Points out that the debates about English are simplistically reduced to “traditional” and “progressive” (or the “pragmatic” and the “idealistic”).
    • Didau presents his view of the purpose of English: it should “exist to enlarge and extend children’s capacity to think about the world”, “both recognise and value the many varieties of English but also induct students into the opportunities afforded by the mastery of standard English”, “the emphasis should be on written forms”, formal exams are “the fairest way to ensure disadvantaged children are not further disadvantaged”, “need both grammatical descriptions and metalinguistic knowledge in order to think flexibly about the use of English”, give children access to the canon, view the National Curriculum as a “minimum standard” and recognise ” although the subject derives from a dominant cultural identity, multicultural differences enrich and enlarge the English language and its literature”.
    • Didau sees the idealistic approaches to teaching English “roundly defeated by the forces of pragmatism”.
    • Didau comes across as dismissive of any progressive agenda for English at all: “Today some English teachers are more concerned with ‘developing radicalism’ than they are in overcoming the real injustice that children from disadvantaged backgrounds are disproportionately more likely to fail to learn to read and write fluently than their more affluent peers.”
    • In response to English being “lost”, Didau points out that teachers should know the history of their subject. He goes on to give a brief overview of the history of English as a school subject (though almost exclusively restricted to official reports and documentation):
      • Matthew Arnold’s reports as inspector of schools
      • The 1870 Education Act (and presents the standards)
      • The 1921 Newbolt Report: “Many practices that have become the norm today began life in the Newbolt Report through such recommendations as the idea that children should be taught to speak standard English using phonetics; that children should be practised, not only in the art of speaking and reading, but also in the art of listening; the centrality of oral work as the foundation on which proficiency in the writing of English is based; and that exams should focus on English as a means of communication rather than on grammatical analysis and spelling. The report also recommended the reading and acting of plays, and that the teaching of literature should include reading aloud and dramatic performances.”
      • F.R. Leavis and Cambridge English: “Leavis was opposed to the Victorian idea that appreciation of literature should be “the direct expression of simple emotions”14 and instead saw the purpose of studying literature as developing students’ intellectual and imaginative faculties in order to make critical judgements. Leavis argued that appreciation of literature led to a growth of intelligence and sensibility that marked the educated out from a debased majority, corrupted by the evils of democratic industrial society.”
      • (When presenting Leavis’ views, Didau appears to argue that English doesn’t have a civilising influence, drawing on Steiners’ critique of High Culture post-Holocaust: “One of the big claims for studying English – that it makes us more empathetic, more rounded human beings – falters in the face of such damning evidence.”)
      • Bullock Report (A Language for Life) and its recommendations about learning about language. Didau dips into the “grammar wars” and the difference between descriptive and prescriptive. He also points out that: “Bullock had no meaningful advice for English teachers about what to do in the classroom.”
      • David Holbrook: “Holbrook was less interested in promoting a national lit-erary culture where people read and know books, but was concerned with English as a mechanism for populating society with people who think, reflect and use language as a means to explore identity and the wider world.
      • The Kingman Report.
      • The Cox Report and The National Curriculum: “The Cox Report decided that it was impossible to specify exactly what the subject should be composed of, and instead settled for offering guiding principles to help teachers make better decisions. Cox saw the danger of polarised views on what English teaching should be and consequently the National Curriculum for English was always intended as a compromise between extreme positions.”
      • OFSTED between 2009 and 2012 (“These reports sum up the orthodoxy on English teaching throughout the first decade of the 21st century”). Didau shows how OFSTED played a confusing role in English. He points out that methods of teaching were perceived as more important that what was taught. The result of OFSTED’s role was: “In other words, as there was (and still is) no established consensus on what English was or should be, it was incumbent on English departments to work this out for themselves, presumably with help from their pupils. In this shared vision, anything “inappropriate or dull” should be swapped out for what is relevant and exciting. In the best schools, pupils were “stimulated” and teaching “engaged all the senses.” Rather than establishing a curriculum founded on subject expertise and the underlying concepts that open up the subject, effective departments were considered to be those that continually reinvented themselves with whatever was new and exciting.” (Didau particularly emphasises how OFSTED positively praised active, engaging and fun lessons during this period.)
      • OFSTED recently (which has “altered sharply”). No lesson gradings, no judgements on “Teaching and Learning”, “a new appreciation of evidence from cognitive science has led to an acknowledgement that children need to learn knowledge”.
      • Gove’s reforms. The 2015 “knowledge-rich” curriculum which marks a “clear change of intent” and “By the time we reach 2015, however, there is a growing concern to ensure that teachers of English deliver what the sociologist Pierre Bourdieu called ‘cultural capital,’ to provide a common, ‘knowledge-rich’ curriculum to all students.”
    • Didau asks six questions about the nature of the English curriculum involving subject knowledge, falling into rote learning, how assessments and progress are judged, what skills are needed and connections with other subjects.
    • Among Didau’s answer to the question of what is English for is that it’s more than just adding knowledge. It’s “an attempt to confront young people with something beautiful, moving and profound” plus ” we should also value children’s ability to think critically and creatively”. He ends the chapter echoing George Sampson.
  • Introduction to Making Meaning in English

    Introduction to Making Meaning in English

    Notes from Making Meaning in English by David Didau (2021)

    Introduction

    David Didau offers a third way that appears to reconcile the traditional and progressive strains within English teaching. He notes how English does not have an agreed body of knowledge or purpose. Didau believes that changes to the academic study of English have impacted badly on it as as school discipline as has a loss of agency (and conviction) by its teachers. His proposition is that English should be reimagined and its focus on teaching children how to determine significance.

    • Didau begins be pointing out that “The anxiety that there’s something rotten in the state of English seems as old as the subject itself.” Then goes on to explain how English has altered while he was a teacher: from one which taught creativity and empathy, attainment targets and drilling to, recently, building stores of knowledge about literature and grammar.
    • Didau asks: “in the rush to reinvent the subject as ‘knowledge-rich’ there’s a risk that self-expression, empathy and meaning may be thrown out along with the admittedly filthy bathwater.”
    • He discusses the nature of English as a school subject: “unlike most other school subjects English does not consist of an agreed, settled body of knowledge. We take our guidance from examination boards. We dwell on the detailed knowledge of a very few canonical texts and attempt to teach and assess a generic set of skills in the forlorn hope that this will equip young people for the vicissitudes they will face in life. But if this is not enough, if our students need more direction in navigating an uncertain world, we are often unprepared to guide them in making meaning.”
    • “At some point” Didau argues in the last 50 years, academic English altered and “the pendulum swung too far” in favour of presenting all discourse as having equal worth which he admits “enlivened and enriched” English but “eroded” our subject’s self-understanding.
    • He sees this change in the nature of the academic study of English as affecting those teaching English: “As English teachers we were left not just lacking expertise, but lacking conviction. Until recently, discussions about what to teach were sidelined by injunctions on how to teach. The curriculum became the business of exam boards and quangos; English teachers were shut out of the debate. Now, with a renewed focus on the curriculum, we are often unsure where to start or how to proceed. If we have been trying to build on a foundation of uncertainty we shouldn’t be surprised if the resulting structure is rickety.”
    • His fear is that “English is in danger of becoming a clockwork version of itself with children learning lists of quotations and tables of techniques but with little sense of how to use these facts to create meaning.”
    • His argument becomes that there is a “third way” between teaching “skills” and what he calls the “technocratic grip of the knowledge organiser” and quotes Arthur Applebee (and the idea of the English curriculum as conversation) saying that what needs to be taught in English is “knowledge of a tradition that involves both knowing and doing”.
    • At the end of the Introduction, Didau sees the role of the English teacher as enabling students to “enlarge and extend” meanings in literature and language.
    • “The aim is to reimagine English as a subject concerned primarily with significance… to reconceive the curriculum as a place where old and new ideas clash, where the canon is wrestled with, and where students are given the intellectual wherewithal to impose their own judgements and meanings on what we lay before them.”
  • “Capital Punishment” by Danielle Jones (TES, 20210226)

    “Capital Punishment” by Danielle Jones (TES, 20210226)

    “Cultural poverty is not the pressing priority,” Danielle Jones argues in a TES article. It’s economic disadvantage.

    Jones refers to Bourdieu and briefly draws a connection between wealthy families and possession of cultural capital. She believes that OFSTED’s interest in cultural capital has an “unarticulated assumption, therefore, is that economic and social capital plays a lesser part – or can be less pivotal – in this life success.”

    Her argument seems to be that it is possible to separate different forms of capital (social, economic and cultural) and questions how equitable our education system actually is when the wealthiest benefit the most.

    Her conclusion is that: “within our current context, we can no longer pretend that the biggest deficit that a disadvantaged child faces is not enough time spent reading Shakespeare. Food poverty, caused by a lack of economic capital, is accelerating rapidly, with more than 2 million children experiencing food insecurity since the pandemic began.”

    Jones also points out the differences in social capital and draws on the positive impact on schooling of having a stable family background researched by Sandra Dika and Kusum Singh. (Here I’m not sure if she’s arguing that poorer families are socially less stable. Couldn’t it be that some working class families just don’t have a traditional nuclear family structure?) Jones points out:

    “For a substantial number of children, parental income impacts on several aspects of their education, including the school they attend, their access to extracurricular and cultural activities, and the support they receive with homeschooling – the last being particularly important in our current climate. Here, we can see the impact of economic and social capital, as more affluent parents feel more confident offering advice, supporting their children with work and guiding them on visits – albeit virtually – to cultural locations.”

    Later in the article Jones draws attention to the inequality in the “impact that the coronavirus has had on the attainment gap between rich and poor pupils. It has grown by 46 per cent in a single year, according to a study by the National Foundation for Educational Research”

    Jones believes “If genuine progress is to be made in this area, we need to take a long hard look at our society.” For her, there is no interconnection between different forms of capital possessed by a person:

    “Providing pupils with cultural capital is laudable as an aim but it will only really make a difference once we have begun to tackle economic disadvantage and ensured that our children have what they need to succeed.”

    While Jones seems to me to be fundamentally right: economic and social disadvantage are primary issues facing children in education, cultural capital isn’t politically neutral. The educational Right see “cultural capital” as a means of encouraging poor children into aping the traditions and attitudes of the monied classes. Perhaps, for some, it’s a genuine belief that the entrepreneurial spirit will fill the empty bellies of poor children and enable them to raise themselves up out of poverty. Or, for others on the Right, an Arnoldian sense that “cultural capital” will carry the best knowledge and ideas throughout society. Of course, the “best ideas” are those of the dominant class and almost always infers the superiority of the old-fashioned and traditional ways of doing things. (Worth remembering that in the Nineteenth Century this same drive to disseminate a liberal culture as expressed in Essays on a Liberal Education and Culture and Anarchy actually meant in practice taking the traditional teaching methods of the public schools into lower-middle class and elementary schools).

    One of its chief roles is in legitimising the current social order. Even if “cultural capital” isn’t taught explicitly, it’s a means of systematising inequality. The dominant culture seeks to ensure that traditions based on what has endured are inculcated. Even if Phil Beadle’s revolutionary subversion and re-tooling of “cultural capital” isn’t achievable (Beadle quotes John Lydon as a call to arms: “Get smart, read and much as you can and find out who’s using you”), I think that aspects of Arts and Literature can be used in a civilising, humanising way – even with the most economically deprived children.

    This brings to mind Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch’s justification for teaching Literature at school: “Can you not give them also in their short years at school, something to sustain their souls in the long Valley of Humilia­tion?” Or even George Sampson: “I am prepared to maintain, and indeed, do maintain, without reserva­tion and perhapses, that it is the purpose of education, not to prepare children for their occupations, but to prepare children against their occupations.”

  • The Fascist Painting: What is Cultural Capital? by Phil Beadle (2020)

    The Fascist Painting: What is Cultural Capital? by Phil Beadle (2020)

    “How many rich kids are there in your Year 10 bottom set?” asks Phil Beadle at one point in The Fascist Painting. He doesn’t need to present a reciprocal question about Eton or other public school. For teachers aware of the social inequities of the school system in the UK, Beadle’s explosive argument about the purposes of state education, drawing on the sociology of Pierre Bourdieu as well as his own experiences as a classroom teacher is incredibly insightful and refreshing. In places it’s challenging – especially when Beadle explains Kantian aesthetics or bluntly dismisses the positive influence of sport in schools – but the value of the book lies in the way it voices an alternative approach. It’s a breath of fresh air for teachers like me who want schools to overcome the hyper-normal mentality that they are politically neutral and that that by focusing everything on the attainment of a handful of GCSE grades we’re somehow contributing to a vague sense of social mobility.

    Those who are the poorest, most disadvantaged in society benefit the least from school. For the Right, it’s because these children come from communities where “culture” and “knowledge” are absent supposedly. These children, the Right would argue, lack the desire for self-improvement that’s associated through an advancement of “cultural capital”. It’s no surprise that in neoliberal Britain, the acquisition of “culture” is seen in starkly economic terms. The origins of the current push for the dissemination of “cultural capital” are, as Beadle points out, found in the (ongoing) Govean Revolution that seeks to import the traditions and cultural practices of the dominant monied classes in English society into state schools. (Beadle is far too forgiving here about the influence ED Hirsch has had in my opinion.) By the end of the book – which draws its title from Friedrich’s Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog, a painting admired by the Nazis as exemplifying the fascist mindset – it’s clear that Beadle sees “cultural capital” as part of a darkly totalitarian agenda to strengthen ideological control over the working class. To teach oppression.

    Using Bourdieu’s concepts of culture and its complex relationship with social structures, Beadle stridently examines the manner that cultural ideas are introduced into state schools. Cultural capital, he points out, is not morally neutral and is rather a means that the ruling ideas of society are legitimised. It’s a “veiled mechanism” through which systemised inequality is perpetuated. Schools and the curriculum play a fundamental role in this. (No wonder politicians like Halfron and Johnson use terms like “signed in blood” and “Big Bang” to insist on a mass return to schools in early March during a pandemic where England suffers the worst record of contagion and death in the world. It’s more than a need to get kids back to school so that parents can get back to work. It’s an awareness that prolonged break from schools is a prolonged break from the dissemination of the ideas and control of their dominant culture.)

    Beadle spends the first part of the book reflecting on the origin of the phrase “the best which has been thought or said” and there’s some (perhaps correct) character assassination of Matthew Arnold at play. Beadle refers to T.S. Eliot and Anthony Harrison who present Arnold as second-rate, “insider” and deliberate obfuscator. Beadle notes that Culture and Anarchy, the collection of essays from which the phrase “the best which has been thought and said” is drawn is unreadable (it’s “borderline incomprehensible”). Beadle describes the backdrop of the collection as the “anarchy” of the period leading to the 1867 Reform Act, where urban working class men were given the vote and quotes John Storey’s claims that Arnold believed that “In Short, education would bring to the working class a ‘culture’ that would in turn remove the temptations of trade unionism, political agitation and cheap entertainment. In short, culture would remove popular culture.” Arnoldian culture uses mass education as a means of ensuring working class “subordination, deference and exploitation” and equates cultural power of culture with the power of the state.

    Beadle believes – and has argued elsewhere – that those in OFSTED have confused “cultural capital” with “cultural literacy”. He rightly points out that Hirsch’s cultural literacy has been interpreted as a form of cultural recognition rather than rich experience and understanding. His view it that Hirsch tends to see mainstream culture as morally neutral when it is far from the case. Mainstream culture is itself a form of legitimisation where (largely) what is popular is considered good. Beadle is particularly effective at pointing out that it is who chooses the content of the cultural knowledge that is crucial. Beadle treats Hirsch far too gently, even when pointing out where Hirsch misrepresents Bourdieu’s impact on French educational reforms. (The difference between cultural recognition and actual cultural knowledge is valid and we see it for example in practice where knowledge organisers remain required in many schools and used as quizzing for rote learning.)

    By using the term cultural capital, OFSTED misunderstands Bourdieu’s “willed oxymoron”, Beadle argues. Pairing “culture” with “capital” Bourdieu draws out the unseen relationships between these two concepts. Beadle views OFSTED as quoting a concept created to satirise what it is they think they mean. Beadle goes on to examine Bourdieu’s concept of “misrecognition” and, further, identifies school as “the chief site of symbolic violence” – a place where ruling ideas are legitimised.

    Behind apparently neutral “cultural capital” is the legitimising of qualities that the ruling class want working class children to acquire: “honour, loyalty, allegiance and, above all, obedience”. It’s a culture based on a mindset which believes that what has endured is worthwhile without any analysis of how and why this culture has endured.

    Beadle also examines what “culture” actually signifies. For Raymond Williams, “Culture is one of the two or three most complicated words in the English Language.” For Bourdieu it is the “supreme fetish”. Beadle draws on this in order to show how the acquisition of culture is seen as providing means of becoming upwardly mobile. However, in order to mobilise yourself upwardly, you have to submit to the game of culture and the class structure it upholds. I found his explanation of Bourdieu’s concept of “obsequium” clarifying: those at the bottom of the order have a respect of the order deeply programmed into them.

    Additionally, Beadle explores the definition of “capital” and how the mainstream, dominant ideology presented by the ruling class, state and mass media is legitimised as being THE only valid ideology and that cultural hegemony is a tool in which to manipulate society’s beliefs. (Perhaps anyone who questions this should ask why anti-capitalist views are now proscribed in English state schools.) Cultural competence itself is a symbol of economic value.

    Bourdieu’s concept of Habitus is explained, too. Beadle insists that class heritage does not need to be rewritten to develop habits of self-cultivation. The wealthy can afford to spend the (money) time on self-improvement (embodied cultural capital). He also raises the spectre of the Matthew Effect in culture and states clearly that “Education cannot heal society” or reverse the Matthew Effect of cultural capital. Cultural capital also carries markers of origin.

    One of the strengths of The Fascist Painting is in how Beadle shows how the education system reproduces the economic system. He asks a simple question to show this: does your local school have the same prestige as attending one of the great public schools? Elite institutions are filled with confident members of the economic elite. The education system is a “huge classificatory machine” that forms the basis of the social order.

    Later in the book Beadle looks at “disinterestedness” as an ideological tool. There’s some incredibly interesting chapters on Art and Music and Beadle shows how the dominant classes establish a denial of the physical world (and, of course, its social realities) through Art. Eventually, he discusses Kantian notions of the sublime and how it manifests in the “pure gaze” (which is itself another ideological mechanism for establishing domination).

    Throughout, the Fascist Painting explodes with ideas and incredibly enlightening observations. For instance, Beadle shows how ideas of character education have their origins in the public schools of the rich and today are used to contrast with the need to teach working class children “resilience” (he argues that working class children are already pretty resilient). He’s rightly dismissive of the promotion of so-called social mobility agendas as a “Trojan horse” distracting us from the causes of inequality. He also calls for “Sport should be disentangled from its place in schools”. His arguments about sport seem to me to be sound – but it could be argued that sport, even if you take into account its commodified and nature – brings a great deal of joy to children. Beadle also makes a great deal of sense when explaining why working class children don’t read.

    Beadle’s message in the book isn’t to reject and work against “cultural capital” being taught in schools. Instead, it’s how to use the methods and tools of the dominant class’ oppression to reveal the nature of oppression: “What is required is training in the rules of the game”.

    Beadle’s vision is that:

    “Schools should be about emancipating young people, not teaching them the validity of the blunt instruments that are used to control them. Or is that the real function of school? To introduce you to things that will stop you questioning the things they are introducing you to?”

    Simply, the task “is to develop [students’] sympathies with political movements and ideas that aim to help them to lead lives less marked by poverty, inequality and lack of opportunity”. The purpose of education is to reveal the existence of the dominant culture, show the tools of domination so that the working class can use them to defend itself.

    Towards the end of the book, Beadle presents his manifesto. It rejects the Kantian (what strikes me more as Nietzchien!) notions of “disinterestedness” that dominates current dominant culture and schooling. Beadle examines the nature of the class nature of “disinterestedness” throughout the book. In terms of the school curriculum, this is what he advocates:

    “Here is your manifesto: the arts civilise everyone who has contact with them. What is required is a redrawing and a quiet politicisation of the arts curriculum in which the thinking is more critical and acknowledges that there is no such thing as a ‘view from nowhere’, as well as the introduction of more elements of legitimate culture that do not currently appear in state schools.”

    Essentially, the actions of this manifesto would be:

    1) respect existing working class culture
    2) expand the arts
    3) then introduce ruling class culture.

    His “cultural curriculum” would be one that essentially uses the structure of The Fascist Painting (this book) as a map. Bourdieu is to be taught, too, though Beadle admits this would likely be a unit in an English or History scheme of work. (There’s a great deal of humour throughout even here where his idealistic remapping of the curriculum is brought down to Earth. He’s a teacher. We’ve all been there.)

    There’s a fundamental role for a teacher other than a neutral mechanical conduit of “knowledge” (I guess in the way that teaching’s currently framed in the Rosenshine or Cognitive Load models): “We do this by devoting ourselves and our students to discovering the intentions hidden behind the objects and actions of those who seek to dominate us. We do not succeed in emancipating our students by becoming the dominators ourselves. Cultural capital gives us a fighting chance at giving our students the tools they need for their own fight against the many oppressions and oppressors they will experience in their lives – in time present as much as in time future.”

    Beadle’s advice to working class children is a quote from John Lydon: “Get smart, read as much as you can and find out who’s using you.”

    Here and there are things Beadle presents that surprised me and seem at odds with the tenor of the book. For instance, Beadle says that he supported Gove’s “toughing up of qualifications”. Beadle believes: “this was long overdue and entirely correct”. Though he acknowledges it comes with its own form of bigotry. Surely an examination system that classifies children so brutally isn’t something to be “toughened up”! Rather, shouldn’t the current exam system be replaced by one in which cramming, private tuition and a place in a grammar or public school doesn’t assist you in getting the best grades (this is aside from the fact that students attending public schools are allowed to take exams accepted by universities that are prohibited for state schools students)? Beadle also commends the teaching of Aristotelian rhetoric and texts like abridged versions of Classical Greek texts as virtues. Aristotelian rhetoric seems to be another guise of approaches like explicitly teaching the fronted adverbial in a formulaic way and, while I’m sure that these scaffolds of discourse can be useful, I don’t think they fundamentally alter the issues with the way English is taught in schools. I’m also hesitant about the use of contemporary (pop) culture in the seemingly uncritical way that Beadle proposes. [I’ve taught poetry paired with pop songs for years but I wouldn’t want to suggest that Stormzy, Beyoncé or Taylor Swift has an equivalent artistry with Shakespeare, Blake or even Matthew Arnold himself.] I’m not even sure teaching Ancient Greek texts is progressive when there’s a greater body of world literature to draw from.

    These are minor criticisms of what is a significant educational book.


    The Fascist Painting is an explosive and challenging alternative approach to delivering “cultural capital” in schools. It draws attention to the nature of the dominant culture and its role in the legitimisation of social inequality. Beadle offers a manifesto for schools for delivering “cultural capital” in a way that reveals the tools and methods of its use and re-tooling it for the working class.

  • Standardisation? The National Curriculum and Assessment

    Standardisation? The National Curriculum and Assessment

    Notes from English and Its Teachers by Simon Gibbons (2017)

    In this chapter Gibbons presents the changes to English during the period of the 20 years-long Conservative government. His starting point is the 1988 Kingman Report and the introduction of the National Curriculum, the first attempt at prescribing the context of English teaching. It was a centrally-driven, top-down reform. This is the period where English teachers’ influence over policy waned and there developed a growing sense of deprofessionalisation. It saw the removal of 100% coursework and the introduction of national testing at 14.

    • Introduction of the National Curriculum in late 1980s and subsequent action saw the “progressive, personal growth model of English” come under attack from both Left and Right. The relentless pressure caused fundamental changes to the way English was “framed” and taught. Those resisting change were marginalised.
    • “The dual weapons of curriculum and assessment, reinforced by an increasingly oppressive accountability framework manifested in school league tables, perfomance targets and Ofsted inspection, threatened for many English teachers what they considered to be the good practice that had evolved through previous decades.”
    • THE NATIONAL CURRICULUM FOR ENGLISH
      • Callaghan’s Ruskin College speech in 1976 seen as the “starting pistol” for “the long race towards the first National Curriculum”.
      • Abolition of the Schools Council in 1982.
      • “where there was a focus on education in the early years ofThatcher’s administration it was predominantly on
        advancing policies that would serve to bring the market into education, and to lessen the influence and scope of the Local Education Authorities”
      • Not until 1988 Education Act that “the spotlight was shone directly on curriculum”
      • In mid-1980s, HMI published Curriculum Matters papers (“forerunners to the National Curriculum”). Gibbons claims these were “in many ways strikingly imaginative in their approach to curriculum” and that the ideas were “in no way at odds with the kind of progressive, child-centred model of English that, for many, had by the mid-1980s assumed the place of an orthodox approach to the teaching of the subject”. Points out that one pamphlet regarded English as an “art”.
      • English from 5-16 had an “open and democratic tone”.
      • English 5-16: “In terms of the development of a National Curriculum for English, then, this
        was no bad starting point. The pupil was being placed at the very centre of learn­ing in the subject, the complexity of the discipline was acknowledged and there was a strong sense of consultation and communication in the development of what
        might at some point become policy. As the National Curriculum became a reality, however, this democratic spirit seemed to be steadily eroded; relatively quickly
        policymakers seemed to realise that, in terms of English at least, dialogue with the profession would be unlikely to lead to consensus, and it would be even less likely to lead to an agreement on the kind of version of the subject that successive Conservative governments apparently wanted – a back-to-basics approach that would reverse the perceived, but never really evidenced, fall in standards which, it
        was alleged by those on the right of the political spectrum, accompanied the introduction of progressive methods from the 1960s and was a product of comprehensivisation.”

    • ▾ THE KINGMAN REPORT
      • Sir John Kingman chaired report committee. Kingman was a mathematician. President of the Royal Statistical Society. Committee did consult widely. ▾ Kingman report’s recommendations included:
      • training of all new teachers in knowledge about language
      • all NQTs should engage in a language study relevant to their subject specialism
      • called for establishment of a National Language Project (came to fruition in LINC).
      • Department of Education’s response was to call report “interesting”.
      • NATE welcomed report but saw its conception of language as inadequate. Also challenged the prescriptive view of language teaching (citing no evidence). [Stubbs says that there is little evidence that direct language teaching improves children’s English.] NATE concerned that study of language for its own sake in a crowded curriculum would prevent children developing competence as language users.

    • ▾ COX’S NATIONAL CURRICULUM (1988)
      • Kingman Report “quickly superseded” by English for Ages 5-16, the first version of the NC.
      • Statutory orders drafted by committee led by Prof Brian Cox (one of the key authors of Black Papers).
      • Suggests that Cox had some sympathies for progressive education. “it was clear from English for Ages 5-16 that Cox’s view on English showed some real appreciation of the complexities of tire subject and of varying perspectives held by the profession on the aims of English and what it should be to children”. ▾ Cox encapsulated complexities of aims of English as “views” which became “Cox’s model”:
        • personal growth
        • cross-curricular
        • adult needs
        • cultural heritage
        • cultural analysis
      • Shakespeare given only statutory place
      • Document was a mix of prescription and descriptive. “It invited English teachers to consider these debates and in doing so reassured them that there was not an attempt to simplify the complexity of the subject”.
      • “In fact, Cox considered that the ideas on teaching English from Bullock, Kingman and his own curriculum could be seen as ‘an organic growth’ (Cox, 1995, p. 190). If that were indeed true then Cox’s curriculum would rightly be looked on as progressive and, to a large extent, in tune with the progressive ideas about English that had been evolving over theprevious three decades.”
      • “many English teachers now view the Cox curriculum as a humane and principled attempt to set out both an inclusive rationale for English and a broad and balanced subject content, with many italicised sections of the document offering helpful guidance to support the statutory orders”
      • Harold Rosen – Teaching London Kids (magazine) – opposed to “this” National Curriculum.
      • NATE welcomed aspectes of English 5-16, particularly how it handled standard English – but criticised circumscribing performance in English with a linear scale of levels. “The progressive view of English adopted as NATE’s orthodoxy viewed the English curriculum as recursive, a spiral curriculum where children continually return to key ideas and concepts and deepening understanding.”
      • “In a sense, that Cox’s curriculum was widely
        welcomed by the profession may have been as much due to a sense of relief at what it wasn’t as a celebration of what it was, and the affinity’ to Cox’s view of English was no doubt heightened by subsequent events – the passing of time and future curriculum rewrites certainly influenced many English teachers’ judgement of Cox and his curriculum.”

    • ▾ PASCALL’S THE CASE FOR REVISING THE ORDER (1992)
      • Policymakers quickly revised the English orders.
      • National Curriculum English: The Case for Revising the Order (1992). Gibbons describes it as “a curious read”. “There are clear messages in the document about the areas of English Cox was deemed to have failed in properly forefronting; the teaching of initial reading and the specification of named literary figures featured, but once again attention to grammar and Standard English remained the strongest areas of criticism.”
      • Brian Cox – Cox on the Battle for the English Curriculum (1995).
      • Cox pointed out that ministers gave key positions in the NCC and SEAC to supporters of conservative thinking on education (John Marenbon, Sheila Lawlor and John Marks – members of the Centre for Policy Studies). Gibbons points out that Cox is not unbiased in his accounts and attempts to salvage his own reputation and legacy.
      • David Pascall, “a chemical engineer” oversaw drafting of new orders.
      • “The contrast between the Pascall and the Cox curricula was stark; the earlier document highlighted the complexities and ambiguities of the subject, whereas the latter offered certainties, perhaps most wonderfully encapsulated in the heavily value-laden
        and deeply questionable assertion ‘Standard English is characterised by the correct use of vocabulary and grammar’”.
      • Pascall’s view was more in tune with ministers: a back-to-basics approach to reading and writing, speaking and listening.

    • ▾ THE DEARING REVIEW (1993)
      • Consultation process suggested that English teachers were largely satisfied with Cox version of NC.
      • “The changes it generated were minimal – the
        most notable was probably the simplifying ofthe writing attainment target so that the proposed separate strands for ‘grammar’, ’spelling’ and ‘punctuation’ were
        removed. Embedding the technical elements of written English into a broader notion of written composition was a welcome reversal, but the final draft was not
        so vastly different from Pascall’s. However, the knowledge that things could have been worse may have muted the protests that resulted on its publication.”
      • 1995 version of NC was slimmed down. No introductory paragraph on the purposes or aims of the subject.
      • Now a prescribed list of authors introduced.
      • Subject associations claimed that their views were not being listened to. A cosmetic exercise.
      • According to Cox only one practising English teacher on the SCAA English consultative committee. (There were others: advisors and head teachers.)
      • The “givens” of the revised NC were: grammar/standard English, literary canon, Shakespeare and bilingualism.
      • Chris Woodhead denied there had been ministerial interference in the final order (anonymously authored).
      • “Despite the apparent lack of enthusiasm for the curriculum rewrite, and despite the many objections to the new programmes of study, there was no particular
        protest as the orders were phased in during the mid-1990s. This may have been because English teachers considered that they would be able to sustain good practice in spite ofstatutory orders, or it may have been an indication ofthe erosion of the
        profession’s belief that any power it had to influence the direction of policy was being steadily eroded.

    • ▾ LANGUAGE IN THE NATIONAL CURRICULUM PROJECT
      • “The story of the LINC project is perhaps the most astonishing example of the Conservative government’s
        attempt to control the teaching of English language in schools, and a striking example of their failure to do this in the face of an English teaching community
        that – whilst it may not have been intentionally subversive – was not going to accept any simple approach to the teaching of grammar and Standard English.”
      • LINC set up under the direct control of the DfE and materials to exemplify the Kingman model of language.
      • “The grand plan, however, failed spectacularly.”
      • John Richmond – Unstable Materials (English and Media Magazine): mistakes: appointment of Ron Carter and to allow LEAs to have a say in the appointment of experts to lead LINC work (resulting in a “ragbag of people of the worst sort”).
      • LINC materials split into two sections covering topics like: early language, the process of writing, accent dialogue and standard English and multiculturalism.
      • “The materials offered a comprehensive and complex view of language and its forms, and it’s certain that a teacher engaging with them would have their own subject knowledge for teaching enhanced. Sadly, the majority of English teachers did not have the opportunity to access the LINC project training. Despite revisions made by Ron Carter, the government took the decision not to publish the final LINC materials, and further than that it refused to
        waive its copyright, thus meaning that interested commercial publishers would not be at liberty to run with the material.”
      • DfE did allow the LINC material to be used in-service education.

    • ▾ ASSESSMENT BATTLES
      • “it was assessment that brought English teachers and the policymakers into direct conflict in the 1990s”
      • 100% coursework removed in 1994.
      • National testing for students at 14 was due to be introduced in 1993. Ken Baker set up the Task Group on Assessment (TGAT) in 1987 chaired by Paul Black.
      • TGAT report in 1987 stressed need for national testing to be predominately formative. Warned against using data for league tables.
      • English tests Anthology was a significant issue. “Clearly significant numbers of English teachers felt this imposition of a hand-picked collection of texts was an affront to their own professionalism, and that it had the potential to very radically change the nature of classroom practice and the curriculum.”
      • Gibbons says that the Anthology was something “a particular type of educated conservative thought it would be good for children to read”
      • Testing of Shakespeare through focus on s single scene and levelling children’s achievement also contributed to English teachers’ anger.
      • LATE led campaign. Brian Cox claimed: “teaching to get high marks in the SATs will be bad teaching”.
      • Unions took over campaign and called for boycott on grounds of workload. John Hickman argues this was a mistake.
      • Boycott’s effects: Anthology disappeared, John Marenbon chair of SEAC resigned.
      • Boycott viewed as a short-lived victory by English teachers.
      • “The boycott of Key Stage 3 testing demonstrated English teachers could still
        wield some collective power. This would not be allowed to happen again. The LATE-inspired campaign to boycott the SATs remains, however, the last teacher-led
        movement to effectively cause a change in policy. For that, if for nothing else, it should be celebrated.”

  • Cognitive Load Theory and Instructional Design: Recent Developments (2003) by Fred Paas, Alexander Renkl and John Sweller

    Cognitive Load Theory and Instructional Design: Recent Developments (2003) by Fred Paas, Alexander Renkl and John Sweller

    This is a text that I’ve seen repeatedly referenced online as an important introduction to CLT. After reading it, I’m not convinced that this is the best place to start with learning about CLT. It’s the introduction/editorial for an issue of Educational Psychologist and gives a broad overview of the state of CLT and its relationship with instructional design in 2003. It briefly defines key elements such as intrinsic cognitive load, extraneous cognitive load, germane cognitive load, working memory, expertise reversal effect and schemas.

    These are my reading notes on the article:

    • “By simultaneously considering the structure of information and the cognitive architecture that allows learners to process that information, cognitive load theorists have been able to generate a unique variety of new and sometimes counterintuitive instructional designs and procedures.”
    • ▾ 1. Intrinsic Cognitive Load
      • “Element interactivity is the driver of our first category of
        cognitive load. That category is called intrinsic cognitive
        load because demands on working memory capacity imposed by element interactivity are intrinsic to the material being learned.”
      • Different tasks (materials) cause different cognitive loads.
      • It might be unavoidable to have to omit elements in highly complex tasks. Then teach them subsequently.
      • It is only with simultaneous processing of all essential elements that high-intrinsic occur that understanding begins.
      • ▾ Working Memory
        • “Working memory, in which all conscious cognitive processing occurs, can handle only a very limited num- ber—possibly no more than two or three—of novel interacting elements.”
        • ▾ Long-term memory: “This memory store can contain vast numbers of schemas—cognitive constructs that incorporate multiple elements of information into a single element with a specific function.”
        • Schemas can be brought from long-term memory into working memory.
        • Automation of schemas held in long-term memory that are processed unconsciously reduces load on working memory.
      • CLT concerned with the instructional implications of the interaction between information structures and cognitive architecture.

    • 2 – Extraneous Cognitive Load (ineffective cognitive load)
      • “Extraneous cognitive load is primarily important when intrinsic cognitive load is high because the two forms of cognitive load are additive. If intrinsic cognitive load is low, levels of extraneous cognitive load may be less important because total cognitive load may not exceed working memory capacity. As a consequence, instructional designs intended to reduce cognitive load are primarily effective when element interactivity is high. When element interactivity is low, designs intended to reduce the load on working memory have little or no effect.”

    • ▾ 3 – Germane or Effective Cognitive Load
      • is influenced by the instructional designer
      • “The manner in which information
        is presented to learners and the learning activities required of learners are factors relevant to levels of germane cognitive load. Whereas extraneous cognitive load interferes with learning, germane cognitive load enhances learning.”
      • Increases in effort or motivation can increase the cognitive resources devoted to a task.
      • “the total load cannot exceed the working memory resources available if learning is to occur”
    • relationships between three loads are “asymmetric” ▾ The Expertise Reversal Effect
      • “the expertise reversal effect,
        indicating that instructional techniques that are effective with novices can lose their effectiveness and even become ineffective when used with more experienced learners.”
    • realistic tasks dealing with complex areas presented to novices with limited schematic knowledge are likely to impose a heavy cognitive load
    • scaffolding aspects (eg. worked examples, completion tasks then full problems)
    • timing of introduction of essential information
    • overarching support information presented first so that learners can construct schema.
    • “fading technique”
    • strong evidence that as levels of expertise increase it is appropriate to decrease instructor control and increase learner control.
    • moderating factors of teacher and learner goals

  • Generative Learning in Action (2020) by Zoe & Mark Enser

    Generative Learning in Action (2020) by Zoe & Mark Enser

    Generative Learning in Action is refreshing after the heavy doses of Rosenshine I’ve been consuming recently. There are two aspects to the GL approach I find particularly engaging: it approaches learning from the learner’s perspective rather than that of the instructor (the “flip-side” that the Ensers repeated point out) plus it’s a constructivist theory which insists that learning is mediated through the prior experiences and knowledge of the learner (it’s great to see Piaget referenced these days!). The theory leans heavily on Mayer’s SOI (select-organise-integrate) model of memory which is presented early in the book. It also draws on Cognitive Load Theory and Rosenshine and claims that the eight strategies dovetail nicely with them. None of the strategies should be anything new to experienced teachers but it is welcome to see child-centred approaches championed in the current educational climate.

    Here are my notes from reading:

    • ▾ Foreward – by Logan Fiorella
      • Wants students to understand rather than recall facts.
      • “We want them to go beyond the lesson and see its implications for future learning and problem solving. In short, we want to foster generative learning.”
      • “Generative learning involves ‘making sense’ of our experience by testing it against what we already know.”
      • Students do not or struggle to “generatively learn”: “the default for many is to approach learning as a passive tape recorder rather than as an active sense-maker.”
      • ▾ Fiorella and Mayer (2015) identified eight activities that promote understanding:
        • summarising
        • mapping
        • drawing
        • self-testing
        • self-explaining,
        • teaching
        • enacting
      • “Each activity supports a common set of processes reflected by what we called the select-organize-integrate model (SOI): select key ideas, organize them into a coherent structure, and integrate them with prior knowledge.”
      • Fundamental principle: “generative learning depends on the quality of what students generate – the quality of their summaries, explanations, drawings, etc. It depends on generating appropriate relationships that lead to the construction of a coherent, testable, and useful model of how things work and how to solve problems in a given domain – whether it’s Newton’s laws, the human circulatory system, or Shakespeare.”
      • “Ultimately, learning depends on what students think about, and what students think about depends on what they already know. If students do not have sufficient background knowledge and instructional guidance to generate meaning from a lesson, the lesson simply won’t make sense. This means, as teachers, we must continually be in touch with what our students know.”
      • Generative learning activities serve as assessment tools for teachers.
    • ▾ Introduction: from Teaching to Learning
      • “Rosenshine’s ‘Principles of Instruction’ provides an excellent series of pointers in how a teacher can ensure that they present information in a way that increases the chance of it being learnt by the pupil. Likewise, the principles of cognitive load theory set out how instruction can be planned in a way to best manage the cognitive load of a task and so avoid overwhelming the limited working memory.”
      • “Generative learning considers the learning experience from the point of view not of the teacher, but of the learner. It asks what they should do with the instruction that they have been given to ensure that they are able to truly make sense of it and learn it in a way that allows them to apply it to new situations in the future. We could see generative learning as the reverse side of Rosenshine’s coin.”
      • Generative learning falls into constructivist model of learning (learning viewed as something that is shaped by students’ own experiences and prior knowledge).
      • Richard Fox – Constructivism Examined (2001)
      • Learning can be generated in other ways (than the eight).
      • ▾ SCHEMA THEORY
        • “A schema (a singular collection of concepts; plural ‘schemata’/’schemas’) is anetwork ofinformation built around connected ideas.” – this relates to how information is stored in long-term memory.
        • Not static stores of knowledge: “Schemata are continuously involved in interactionsbetween prior knowledge and new information which we are receiving, selecting and organising before integrating into the long-term memory”
        • Schemata can contain inaccurate and false learning that have to be challenged, broken down and rebuilt correctly.
      • ▾ SOI MODEL
        • Select – Organise – Integrate
        • Mayer’s SOI model of memory
        • “Fiorella and Mayer describe this form oflearning as ‘a process ofmaking sense, in which you try to understand what is presented by actively selecting relevant pieces of information, mentally organising them, and integrating them with other knowledge you already have’.
      • ▾ COGNITIVE LOAD THEORY
        • Working memory is limited and can only hold a few pieces of information at any one time.
        • Generative learning takes place in working memory.
        • “The goal of generative learning is to encode things strongly into our long-term memory and to make them easy to recall in the future”.
        • intrinsic load = how complex the task itself is
        • extrinsic load = everything else in environment/way task is designed.
      • ▾ SELF-REGULATED LEARNERS
        • One of the key aims is to develop metacognitive skills… to become independent learners.
        • ▾ B.J. Zimmerman – Handbook of Self­-Regulation and Learning Performance
          • – self-regulating learners personally activate and sustain behaviours that are systematically oriented toward the attainment of learning goals.
      • ▾ RESEARCH ORIGINS OF GENERATIVE LEARNING
        • “generative learning is based upon the idea that, for learning to take place, students must engage in a number of generative cognitive processes, after which they are able to transfer what they have learnt into solving new problems”.
        • Transferable knowledge and skills – Pellegrino and Hilton (2012).
        • Piaget and Bartlett (learning as “an act of construction”).
        • Katone and Wertheimer (it is how we select, organise, collate and finally integrate this information into new schemata that’s important).
        • Merlin C. Wittrock (people tend to generate meanings consistent with prior knowledge).
      • ▾ RESEARCH BASE AND EFFECT SIZE
        • summarisation = 0.5
        • mapping = 0.62
        • drawing = 0.4
        • imagining = 0.65
        • self-testing = 0.62
        • self-explaining = 0.61
        • teaching = 0.77
        • enacting = 0.51
    • ▾ 1 – Summarising
      • Restate the main ideas of a lesson in one’s own words.
      • requires students to “collate and reorganise the main points from their learning at different points in the learning process”
      • can be verbal or textual
      • most effective where learning isn’t reliant on “spatially complex”
      • “This activity means they have to extract the key information, make links and associations within the new material and then make associations with material which is already stored in their existing schemata.”
      • supports comprehension by students with lower reading abilities – Bretzing and Kulhavy (1979) and Craik and Lockhart (1972).
      • Peper and Meyer: students who summarised notes performed 10-15% better.
      • Identifies use in English.
      • Use of Cornell notes.
      • Gives examples across curriculum.
      • Case study: Adam Riches (English) – Cornell notes – explicitly teaches. Marks summary boxes.
      • ▾ Limitations: highest effect achieved when time is devoted to its direct teaching; time invested in teaching summaries can outweigh benefits.
    • ▾ 2 – Mapping
      • Convert a text lesson into a spatial arrangement of connected key words.
      • ▾ mind-maps:
        • – concept map
        • – knowledge map (links have a predetermined type – eg. “this leads to this…”)
        • – graphic organisers (eg. compare/contrast matrix; flowchart for cause and effect; hierarchy for classification).
      • helps students organise seemingly disparate information into a more logical form
      • “The creation of concept maps forces the learner to select information that they feel is relevant, which involves an active engagement with the information they have, prompting them to think hard and therefore to remember it. As well as thinking hard about the selection of the information, they also have to think hard about where to place it in relation to other information on their map. They need to consider how one piece of information on their map links to another or where to place it in a hierarchy.”
      • “Concept mapping also allows pupils to combine new information which is to be learnt with what they already know, their prior knowledge. This creates a hook for the new information and makes its place in a schema explicit as well as providing an opportunity to retrieve that which was learnt before, taking advantage of the testing effect.”
      • drawback of mapping is that the learner may focus too much on organising information and not enough time on information being learnt – provide pre-filled concept map.
      • can also leave gap between new information and completing map – requires thinking hard to select information from memory.
      • gives exampls from MFL, DT and RE.
      • Case study: Christian Moore (Biology) – using concept maps.
      • drawbacks: time required to train students in their use; there’s a risk in using pre-filled maps that students will simply select information to transfer but not consider its role.
    • ▾ 3 – Drawing
      • Create a drawing to illustrate content of a lesson.
      • Meyer suggests that drawing might be: decorative, representational, organisational, explanative. (first two do not generate learning)
      • use SOI process and insists that students engage with it.
      • Links to dual coding theory.
      • Drawing a map of the island in Lord of the Flies is not going to generate a deeper understanding of text. Plottng characters’ movements around island does.
      • “One consideration for the classroom is where the learner’s attention is directed during this activity. If ‘memory is the residue of thought’, then we need to ensure they are thinking about the information at hand rather than the process of drawing it. It is too easy to be distracted by the ephemera of the process, such as the colouring pencils used or the level of accuracy in the representation. In addition, the act of drawing places an extraneous load on the learning process if the learner is having to focus on the ‘tedious mechanics of drawing?’ For this reason, it may be advantageous to use drawings where the outline is already provided so that the learner can focus on selecting and organising the relevant information rather than on their skill at drawing.”
      • Examples across the curriculum: Science, English (representations of imagery), Art.
      • Case study: Ben Newmark (History) – example of cartoon used to illustrate evidence,
      • Limitation is frustration of students who feel they can’t draw well. Also, too much time drawing rather than thinking about the information.
    • ▾ 4 – Imagining
      • Form internal images to illustrate the content of a lesson.
      • Students are asked to create: static images, steps in a process, animated sequences.
      • Students do need some prior knowledge of the topic in order to be most successful.
      • Memorise key facts with images, landscapes, stories, varied details.
      • “The research indicates that imagining can have specific relevance to comprehension in reading, with visualisation a frequently used strategy in theteaching of reading. In research conducted by Pressley in 1976, it was found that learners who were given instruction to picture elements of a 950-word story in their head significantly outperformed the control group in a subsequent comprehension test.”
      • Needs explicit instruction to achieve highest effects. Also supporting students in selecting and organising information.
      • Gives example of A Christmas Carol opening. (I understand this as creating additional characters/settings etc based on knowledge of text. Also suggests looking at different pictoral representations of Scrooge.)
      • Gives examples from PE, History and Maths.
      • Case study: Tim Taylor (“freelance teacher”) refers to Kieran Egan’s Teaching as Story telling and Dorothy Heathcote (use of drama in classrooms).
      • Limitations: some students with low prior attainment or developmental delay may not be able to sustain mental images, Imagining can place extra load on working memory. Students need to have good motivation for this strategy as no concrete outcome.
    • ▾ 5 – Self-Testing
      • Self-testing of previously-studied content by answering practice quesions.
      • “Self-testing in generative learning is the process in which students recall information from a learning episode, using questions or activities which require them to retrieve either specific detail or broader recollections, such as with ‘brain dump’ activities. So, for example, students read over a chapter of a science revision guide and then complete the questions at the end of the chapter and use the materials to check their understanding.”
      • Allen, Mahler and Estes (1969) found practiced retrieval improved retention.
      • Roediger ans Karpicke (2006) self-testing and low-stakes quizzing can have significant impact on memory and learning process.
      • Positive impact of “the testing effect” (Edwina Abbot).
      • Rohrer and Taylor (2007) found that students who revised material in a distributed way scored significantly higher than those who crammed revision into short time period.
      • Argarwel and Roediger (2011) – students in closed book test conditions were likely to perform better as they put more effort into initial study of material. “Further research from Roediger et al. found myriad benefits of testing, including improved organisation ofmaterial in the minds of the students and a better awareness of gaps in knowledge and metacognitive processes, all central to the ideas of generative learning.”
      • Ask students to write down what they have learned at the end of a topic. Short-answer quizzes, flashcards, online platforms.
      • Students do need quick access to corrective feedback.
      • “We can also utilise the testing effect by employing spaced practice strategies. Giving students a chance to retrieve information at key points, allowing time for forgetting to take place, will increase the storage and retrieval strength.Therefore, plan for opportunities for self-testing on previous topics.”
      • Curriculum examples given for MFL, History and Drama.
      • Case Study: Emma Smith (History) and Mark Enser (Geography) – raised issue of the complexity of questioning.
      • Limitations: students need good-quality materials in initial learning episode; multiple-choice questions approached cautiously. Students need motivation not to use learning materials (becomes copying).
    • ▾ 6 – Self-Explaining
      • Explaining the content of a lesson by elaborating on material covered.
      • Involves explaining a text or diagram to themselves.
      • To generate learning then this technique should go beyond simple comprehension of the text.
      • Aim is to develop more independent learners who can use self-explaining to interrogate something new without direct input from a teacher.
      • ▾ Needs to go further and ask learner how they arrived at the answer they reached. Use Socratic questioning:
        • Classify their thinking – ‘What do you already know about this topic?’
        • Probe assumptions – ‘What additional evidence would lead to youreaching a different answer to this question?’
        • Demand evidence – ‘What evidence have you got for the conclusion that you have reached?’
        • Alternative viewpoints – ‘Who would disagree with the conclusion you have reached?’
        • Explore implications – ’What are the implications for your conclusion? What would need to happen or change?’
        • Question the question – ‘Why do you think this was an important question to ask?’
      • Fiorella and Mayer found it better to give a learner a menu of options for explanation to select from rather than an open choice (avoids misconceptions).
      • Gives examples: Maths, Science, RE.
      • Case study: Ceridwen Eccles (primary) – self-explanation during reading sessions.
      • Limitations: time to fully train learners in using technique; time taken for self-explanations rather than other forms of learning; some contradictions in research.
    • ▾ 7 – Teaching
      • Teaching other students about previously-studied material.
      • Lower evidence base for this approach.
      • ▾ Bargh and Schul (1980) found three phases of teaching:
        • – preparation stage (S)
        • – act of engaging encourages students to actively engage in the materials (S)
        • – deep questioning by tutor encourages metacognitive processes (advises use of Socratic questioning).
      • Students who taught materials significantly outperformed others (including those who prepared but didn’t actually teach).
      • Gives suggestions for teaching poetry and Shakespeare (need high-quality study materials).
      • Simple form = think, pair, share
      • Research suggests that well-designed peer tutoring programmes can have significant impacts for tutor and tutee.
      • Examples given for Drama, Maths and Art.
      • Case Study: Freya Odell (English) – uses a “jigsaw” method to give structure to how students teach each other newly learnt material. Gives the example of different groups studying an aspect of a poem then teaching to others. Teacher uses discussion at end of activity.
      • Limitations: potential to embed false conceptions; not all students able to construct effective explanations of some topics; questions and follow-up interactions have potential to misdirect; stress and anxiety caused by task.
    • ▾ 8 – Enacting
      • Engaging in task-related movements during learning.
      • Involves students making gestures or manipulating objects linked to the thing they are learning.
      • “One thing that enacting does is to make the abstract more concrete in the mind of the learner.”
      • Enactment helps younger children (2-7).
      • Sweller and Paas suggest that use of gestures might help offset some of the cognitive load of the task (CLT).
      • Fiorella and Mayer find evidence base for enacting weaker than others.
      • Enacting approaches “only really apply to younger learners who struggle with moving from the concrete to the abstract.”
      • Gives examples from: Music, MFL (use gesture when repeating key phrase or vocabulary), Maths.
      • Case study: Tarjinder Gill (primary) – use of gestures to support recall of key vocabulary and storytelling (for sequencing of story or process).
      • Limitations: really for younger children only; poor evidence base; make sure enacting doesn’t become a distraction from the thing being learned; danger that actions create “primarily episodic memories rather than semantic ones”.
    • ▾ Conclusion: What Have We Learnt?
      • “It has also become apparent to us that generative learning fits well alongside theories of effective instruction.”
      • Instruction “of new information needs to be crystal clear and deploy the kind of strategies of instruction given by Rosenshine, with opportunities for retrieval, modelling, practice after small steps and regular reviews.”
      • “It should not be seen as a replacement for effective instruction but provide guidance to what pupils do after effective instruction.”
      • Pitfalls: remove instruction and rely on generative learning. Also: strategies require students to be trained in strategies differently in each subject. Need to be used consistently and frequently.
      • Important to ask: is the time invested in teaching generative learning approaches worth it in the context of the whole-school?
      • GL “dovetails neatly” with effective instruction strategies such as Rosenshine’s and”closely aligns” with cognitive load and schema theory.
      • David Weston and Bridget Clay – Unleashing Great Teaching.
      • David Kolb – experiential learning cycle.
      • Strategies can be used for revision.
      • Implications for remote learning (writers don’t feel this is possible or, at least, desired).
      • Final implication: “Generative learning strategies are based on the SOI model and integration with prior knowledge is key. For these strategies to be successful, it is critically important that the curriculum is well sequenced so that there are explicit links made to what pupils have already learnt and they are made in a way that allows pupils to make the connections to what they are now learning.”

  • The Goalkeeper’s Revenge and Other Reminiscences of English

    The Goalkeeper’s Revenge and Other Reminiscences of English

    This morning I was talking with Alice about my experiences of school. We’d been swapping anecdotes about childhood as you do when you get older and try to discern some sort of pattern in those early years that led to where you end up as an adult. It’s all a bit Dockery and Son (and I continually worry how much influence Larkin had on me in my late teens).

    Anyhow, it led me to think hard about my own experiences of English at secondary school. Most of it is forgotten, mostly vague memories and a few vivid recollections. I went to a secondary modern which was, before it was closed, described as the worst school in England. The buildings were early-1960s constructions of the innovative modernist design that are still in use (the main three-storey building, for instance was hexagon-shaped, with large areas in the centre of each floor and had interior walls which could be moved to make larger classrooms). It was quite traditional: very strict about uniform and we had to carry our small hymn books in our blazer pockets at all times. We had assemblies every day which started with a hymn; just like church, the number would be posted on a board and our singing would be accompanied by music played on a huge organ. Mr Heels, the Head of Music, would rock back and forth as he played.

    My memories of English seem confined to the first few years. I’m not sure why I can’t really remember what we studied after the third year – but my attendance was erratic as I became involved in activities outside school, so it’s possible I wasn’t there.

    Here are some of the things I remember.

    My first English teacher was an old Yorkshireman called Mr Hargreaves. He was Head of English and talked incessantly about Preston North End Football Club. Once he hit me on the head with the Bible for doing part of a reading in school assembly in an American accent.

    We had 30 minute lessons. Lots of lessons were “doubles” though. Some English lessons were simply reading lessons where we were allowed to read our own books. I can remember bringing Frank Herbert’s Dune. I was about 12 at the time. Hargreaves shook his head at me, disbelieving I was actually reading it. “Get yourself a book you can actually read,” he told me in his Yorkshire accent, emphasising the word read as if it was something causing him pain. Like a bad tooth. I remember recounting what I’d read so far about Paul Artriedes, the Bene Gesserit, Arrakis. Then telling him I’d read Tolkien, Fritz Lieber, Robert E. Howard and, in my first-year enthusiasm began to list the books I’d read in my last year of junior school. He seemed unimpressed.

    Another time I was reading one of the Conan books – Conan of Aquilonia, I believe with a stunning Frank Frazetta painting of an older Conan with a beard on the cover – and Hargreaves told me to stop reading that “pie-in-the-sky-fantasy-nonsense”. I can remember him holding the book and examining it as if it was an unusual piece of shit that he’d been forced to pick up. “Get yourself a proper book. Something about real life. You can’t spend your time with your head in the clouds!”

    Later that year I’d watch the movie adaptation of Ivanhoe on tv and borrowed a copy of the Walter Scott novel from the school library. It was an ancient volume. Red leather-bound with golden lettering on the spine. Its pages were like tissue paper and typeset with an unusual Germanic type. I was about half-way through (and, admittedly, not enjoying it as much as I did the film) when Hargreaves called me up to his desk and insisted that I wasn’t really reading Ivanhoe. He claimed I was pretending to read and gave me an after-school detention for time wasting. He then controlled what I read in class which was mostly very thin pamphlet books with lots of pictures and large lettering. The sort of books that most of the other boys in my class read.

    What sort of class readers did we read in English? I can only recall a handful of books we read together. One was called The Ear by Anita Jackson, which was a silly horror story about a man haunted by the ear of his Van Gogh-obsessed friend. Yes, it was a thin, pamphlet-like publication with a photo of an ear on the front. Most of the class loved it as I remember. I’d read Lovecraft and Howard by this time so sneered at the idea that this was horror. The Ear was part of a series called Spirals and, being honest, I’d probably consider using with Year 7 students now. I’m not sure what that tells me about the type of teacher I’ve become.

    The Goalkeeper’s Revenge and Other Stories by Bill Noughton was what Hargreaves considered a “proper book”. Sentimental stories about the lives of Northern working class children were what we mostly read. I hated them. I was a working class boy from a single-parent family who lived on a council estate. I didn’t need my life sentimentalised or even legitimised. I wanted ways out of the life I lived in. Now I understand how English teachers in the 1970s and 1980s tried to connect literature with the experiences of working class children. Back then, I just thought they were dull stories written in a patronising manner. I still think there’s an argument that a lot of children’s literature is taught in schools to teach acceptance and limit aspirations.

    Other books I can remember reading were The Pearl by John Steinbeck (again an incredibly pessimistic novel about not getting your hopes up), The Old Man and the Sea by Earnest Hemingway (what’s the point of putting all that effort, Santiago?), The Gun by C.S. Forester (glorification of war! I still remember that my English teacher made a great deal about the success of the gun being due to British gunpowder).

    In terms of drama we studied Hobson’s Choice by Harold Brighouse (a Northern version of Dynasty but duller) and Macbeth. I remember being captivated by Macbeth and memorising passages. It’s a shame that our English teacher gave up with it about Act Two because he thought the class were bored with it. They probably were.

    I have no memories of ever reading poetry.

    I’m sure there was a lot of writing. We did a great deal of punctuation practice. I can’t remember writing anything other than a piece in an end of year exam where I used the lyrics from Big Country’s Steeltown to describe visiting Corby. It got the top mark but really was nothing more than the lyrics to the song.

    Social issues, which were a feature of English teaching at that time, seem to have been absent from our lessons. My school was in a right-wing area and, in my later years at secondary schools, some right-wing teachers went out of their way to punish me because I expressed dissenting political opinions (these were staff who didn’t teach me, heard that I advocated things like vegetarianism, actively challenged racists when they picked on the Sikh and Hindu kids and gave out CND leaflets). There was a young English teacher in the department who played The Jam on a record player to his classes and talked about issues but he never taught me.

    I’m sure that my poor memory has distorted my recollections of English at school. It wasn’t until my late teens that I realised that literature was crucially important. My school experiences seem to have been (unconsciously) designed to put me off reading.

    It would be incredibly interesting to get my English teachers’ perceptions about their models of English teaching.

  • Questioning Rosenshine’s Principles

    Questioning Rosenshine’s Principles

    In search of the real Rosenshine

    In the 4th September 2020 issue of the TES, Jessica Powell argues that Rosenshine’s principles are “poorly understood”. In the article, Powell describes her initial sense that the principles are “straightforward, uncontroversial” and a framework of approaches that most teachers are already doing. The danger, she suggests, is that the 10 principles become a quick-fix or checklist for senior managers.

    Powell speaks to Tom Sherrington and Mark Esner (a teacher and TES columnist) who argue that Rosenshine permits teachers to teach in ways that seem intuitively right. Esner sees critics of Rosenshine as “radical constructionist… facilitators”!

    She points out that Rosenshine avoided any “finality” about the principles and that they are for specific applications rather than universal teaching procedures applicable at all times and for all subjects.

    Powell investigates why the widely-known American Educator article presents only 10 principles. She speaks to Susan Paik who explained that the original pamphlet was tightly commission’s and that Rosenshine wanted 17 but compromised with 10.

    She goes on to consider whether the fact that the 10 principles are a digest causing “false certainty” about practices which are more nuanced. Rosenshine’s synthesis of others’ work leaves out a great detail of more complex arguments and data. There’s the danger that Rosenshine simplifies things.

    Some educators fear “that the 10 principles have been consumed as fact, despite the caution of Rosenshine and the IAE editors, and that no one is digging deeper or exploring them in the detail required for them to be useful. What’s more, they are being used as a checklist for the totality of teaching when they were never intended as such.

    Powell also considers ideological concerns: a one-size-fits-all approach to teaching that reinforces the factory model of traditional teaching. She cites Ian Beatty’s 2012 comment that the 10 principles “seem to make a frontal assault on a broad swath of ‘reformed’ teaching approaches’” (they promote the “drill and practice” model of instruction).

    The article also implies that Rosenshine’s principles could suffer the same fate as Dweck’s mindsets and Hattie’s visible learning in the sense that complex theories and research become “mistranslated” when implemented in schools.