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Tuesday 17 May 2011

Driving Home . . .

To North Wales yesterday to visit a school. A great time was had talking about writing and reading, getting children involved in drama activities and answering questions. They even invited me to open their library and tell a story at the end of the day. I came away full of enthusiasm. Thanks very much to the staff and children of Rydal Penrhos School.

Then, on the way home, driving on the coast road through rain coming in from the Irish Sea, I listened to a programme about newly qualified social workers and was struck by the sharp contrasts we have in childhood experiences in this country. An hour earlier I had spoken to a group of eager girls, who wanted to be writers, doctors, vets and a whole host of other professions. On the radio, I then listened to stories of children locked in their bedrooms to protect them from dangerous relatives. And governments still want to blame social workers and teachers for not radically changing the outcomes for these children because it deflects from the very real mess in some inner city areas where governments can make a difference. Like Sure Start nurseries, for example. A simple idea, well-executed, that worked and is now being cut severely.

Tuesday 10 May 2011

Worlds colliding . . .

My worlds collide today.

Recent emails and phone calls from editors about forthcoming stories have sent me scurrying back to read them again and recall how much I enjoyed writing and revising them. Consequently, I have neglected Mr Sheen and the lawnmower for higher thoughts.

Last night K brought home the reading SAT for 11 year olds from her school and we spent a good half hour ranting, which we like to do from time to time. A child may love reading books, may have read a book a week for most of their lives. Whether this test can sum up their experience and skills, I doubt. A good teacher could do it in a few sentences, but apparently ministers need a number instead. The writing SAT is yet to come, but you can bet your life it'll be a piece of functional writing. Nothing wrong with that, I hear you cry. No, but where's the fun gone in writing? I asked a child the other day when they'd last written a story or a poem and all I got was a blank look.

Which leads me on to the third aspect of my working week - teaching. It seems to me the idea that education can be a transformational experience has all but disappeared now. Government interference with the political football of education is so rife now that career politicians are telling us what to teach and how to teach it. Many schools, under severe pressure, have been forced to view education as only a necessary preparation for entering the working economy as an adult. And that means we risk stifling creativity, independent thought and innovation.

So this morning I planned an author visit to a primary school, determined to do my bit to inspire children to write because they enjoy it, not just because they have to do it.

OK. I've put it off long enough. Back to the Dyson.