League Tables; not just important for football clubs

My daughter has now reached her last year of primary school and so a couple of weeks ago we attended an open evening at our local school. This is the school that my son has recently left, so you would think that I would know it reasonably well. I thought I did but it seems that certain changes have been made recently with no consultation with parents.

We were enjoying a wonderfully hilarious presentation by members of the History Department when a nugget was slipped in regarding the whole of the Key Stage 3 now having to be covered in just two years because ‘options’ were now being made to start at the beginning of Year 9 rather than Year 10 previously. I’ll explain, ‘options’ are the subject choices a child makes for their GCSEs, so as GCSEs are normally taken in Year 11 and are a two-year course, they have been since forever, made at the age of 14 or the end of Year 9; third year of secondary school in old money.

When I got the opportunity I asked the teacher who was accompanying my group around the school, who is also what is now called a Subject Leader rather than Head of Department, as to why options had been moved forward a year and did he not think as I did, that 12/13 was rather too young to be making choices that had massive repercussions for the long term future of the individual child. His response was that some students found the two years insufficient time to attain a decent grade in their chosen GCSE courses and this change would therefore allow those students to fulfil their potential with less stress. Additionally, more able pupils would be able to take all of their GCSEs in Year 10, which would then enable then to take further GCSEs in subjects that interested them in just one year in Year 11. Some students would also be able to take AS levels a year early.

Having had some experience of GCSEs in the past two years I responded to the teacher by pointing out that what I could see happening was that all students would take their examinations early and those who did not make their target grade would then be forced to take and retake the examinations again and again until targets had been reached, thus inducing paranoia and stress and boredom. I added that precious few students would actually be able to take advantage of taking subjects that interested them in just one year and all the school seemed to be doing was extending the GCSE curriculum to three years by the back door. I know that my son got incredibly bored going over the same material in lessons time and time again for the benefit of those who hadn’t understood the first three or four times around, much to his detriment. The teacher was a little taken aback, I could see the thought ‘she’s rumbled us’ written all over his face. He responded by saying that they were only doing what lots of other schools were doing.

It crossed my mind that this change was all about league tables but I had other things to think about until that is I read THIS in last weeks Guardian Education supplement. Seems I was right. Is this what league tables have forced us into? That we now speed through three years of curriculum studies in two years, force children to chose subjects that will have a direct bearing on what A levels they may wish to take and therefore in turn affects the choice of course for university at a ridiculously young age of 12 or 13 and then allow a leisurely 3 years for a GCSE course in order that a school can boast ‘best GCSE results ever!’ and offer increasingly amazing percentages of those students who obtain five or more grade Cs, including maths and English because that is what is recorded in the league tables?

Speeding through three years of curriculum in a mere two also means that the vast majority of students will only study a foreign language for two years at secondary school and other subjects such as History, Geography, Music and so on, will suffer the same fate.

This is narrowing our children’s education even further. All we are doing is churning out children that are eventually taught how to get a grade C in a public examination. We are not educating them in any broad sense of the word. We reap what we sow. It’s a pretty sad picture when I look ahead.

A journey from a bygone age

Last week I took a return bus journey which transported me back to a time and a service that I had thought disappeared.

The route is between two centres of a decent population but taking in small villages for which this bus is the only service. It travels the whole route return four times a day.

I got on the bus and asked the fare and the driver was meticulous in ascertaining if I needed a return ticket (because it's much cheaper love ) and in informing me of the return times (because you don't want to miss the last bus do you now love?) For the record I don't mind being called love because it's a local thing and it's nice.

As I sat down I noticed that everyone that boarded was given a personal greeting and it appeared that many of the elderly passengers were known to the driver by name. The journey itself took about 10 minutes longer than timetabled, not due to any traffic problems but because the driver really did provide a very personal service. Not only did he stop at all the regulated stops but he also stopped where convenient to an individual passenger. Each one was given a cheery 'tarra' from the driver. And this is why I will not name either the bus company or the route because I have a horrible feeling that allowing passengers to board or disembark at anywhere other than a designated stop is probably against the law or something similar.

At journeys end I was wished a good day along with everyone else.

The return journey was what really took me back. It was the same driver and after responding to his question as to whether I had enjoyed my day I asked whether he was the only driver on the route, which he confirmed he was. This explained why everyone knew him and why he knew them. As the journey was being taken during the rush hour most of the passengers were workers returning home for the evening. I was struck by how they sat in groups, chatting and discussing the days events. Seats were kept free for those who joined the bus later on in the journey. The driver greeted everyone by name and asked about their day and each passenger asked after the drivers day and/or health.

As people reached home there were numerous goodnights' around the bus and to the driver and then as the driver drove off again, the people who had disembarked waved to the driver and their friends and everyone waved back! It was delightful and reminded me of travelling by bus as a child with my Mother who always knew all the drivers and conductors.

This journey gladdened my heart and put a massive smile on my face. The only downside to all of this is the route is heavily subsidised by two councils. I sincerely hope that with all the cutbacks that are being made and are to be made, that this service will not lose out, for neither leg of the journey was full by any sort of description you would care to use. Not only would the villages lose their only service but a little bit of happiness would be lost too.

There really is no such thing as Society, not when there's CUTS to be made!

This article and associated reports carried in various media yesterday started a few thought processes in my weary brain. Feel free to pick it all apart but these thoughts come from the heart because I've seen it all before.

Last week I watched a programme on BBC Four Britain's Park Story and a fascinating piece of social history it was. Towards the end of the programme they touched and it was only a brief touch on how Britain's Parks became no go areas during the 1980s following savage cuts during the Thatcher Years, in funding. You may remember it all well. Once a park is neglected, plant beds left to the weeds, pathways left to crumble, buildings not maintained, park keepers and rangers made redundant along with the skilled gardeners et al, then the vandals move in to destroy what remains. Graffiti became more prevalent than foliage, children's playgrounds became the haunt of disassociated young people who had nowhere else to go and nothing better to do than cause trouble and take drugs. The families stayed away because of the danger of a child picking up used needles or condoms. Councils couldn't do anything about the problems because the funds were not available and so it all became a vicious circle.

If you allow places to rot and fester then there is no pride. How can you have pride in something that is vile and vandalised? And so the situation gets worse and the behaviour of those who are disassociated becomes worse and society as a whole breaks open a little more. This may all sound so dramatic but think about it. When something is good and well maintained and money is spent in keeping it that way then there is a pride. A pride in a place that is ours, belongs to all of us and that we all as a society use. I don't have a lot of time for the last Labour Government but give them their due, the rise in use of our parks and there has been an incredible increase in the popularity and use of all types of park, does coincide with their 13 years of power.

It is easy for departments that provide for our leisure activities to be subjected to the first and most savage of cuts because they are not considered essential, hence the cut in new playgrounds that would have made such a difference to the lives of those who had help plan them and would have used them. But these services are essential in my eyes and a wider perspective needs to be taken into account. Cut these provisions and we start that vicious circle of decay, decomposition and ultimately destruction all over again.

Everything starts with but a small seed.....

Single and No Car! A Moan...you're warned.

I write this as Frustrated of Aldridge!

In September my wonderful daughter is off on a venture week with her school so I thought I would take the opportunity to raid the savings of a very modest amount and go away for about four days on my own and recharge the batteries, have some quality me time with good old thinking time thrown in for good measure. Easy you would think. Think again. This world is set against people like me that are not only travelling solo but on public transport too. How very dare I?!

My first thought was to go up to the Hebrides, I've always wanted to go there and I can't think of somewhere else that would be as wild, windy and pretty deserted for quality thinking time. Unfortunately, and I have spent many long hours pouring over the logistics of all modes of travel be it air, sea, coach, bus or even all four and a good walk thrown in for good measure and it is nigh on impossible. I have no desire to spend a night in Glasgow, had enough of that city in the early 90s or to spend the sort of money that would be required in order to avoid a night there!

So my thoughts turned to North Devon and in particular Lynton. Again pretty wild with beautiful coastal scenery and the stunning coastal path between there and Ilfracombe , a mere 21 miles. The area around Lynton is known as Little Switzerland so those who know me would also know why the area appeals. Again however, getting there is an all day job involving a bus to Birmingham and then the train to Taunton, bus from Taunton to Minehead and then another bus from Minehead to Lynton. Now do I want to spend a total of 18 hours travelling the round trip out of my few precious days? I remember now why I always end up in North West Wales: not only is it beautiful but it takes 3 hours door to door! Grrrrr.

My other bug bear though is the local public transport in North Devon. Guess you have to own a car to live there because the bus services STOP for the winter the day after I plan to travel there! So no walking to Ilfracombe or Hunters Inn and then getting the bus back! I thought public transport was bad around here in the wicked West Midlands after experiencing the joy and frequency of London public transport (do Londoners really appreciate what a wonderful service they have?) but at least the service doesn't stop for the winter, well only when it snows!

Then there is accommodation. Nothing flashy. Just a simple B&B is required but as soon as you tell them the room is only for one person they do not have any vacancies! I did try calling a couple back, pretending I was someone else looking for a booking for two and miraculously they had vacancies! Even if they do have vacancies, said B&Bs want 75% of the price of two people sharing the room! Oh yes and this is for single rooms too!

So I'm having a moan. It is unbelievably difficult to try and do something that should be so simple and is if you are a couple and you drive!

Looks like Wales and I'll just have to swallow my anger over the 75%!

Radio Days

This one comes courtesy of my lovely friend Martin who posted a link to a Nat King Cole song on my Facebook page today and set into motion a train of thought. Listening to Nat croon away reminded me of Sunday mornings when I was a child listening to Family Favourites on the radio, or the wireless as we called it back then.

I don't remember the minutiae of Family Favourites but recall that people wrote in with requests for friends and families all over the world and the programme would link up to far flung places where their loved ones were working or had emigrated or were serving in the forces. This I suppose was all in the days before it was common to have a telephone let alone actually make international calls! It's so easy to keep in touch now that we become lazy in communication.

I digress. Back to the point. When I was a child the radio was always on. Before the birth of Radio 1, Mom listened to the Light Programme and my formative years were spent watching my Mother twist and shout and vacuum to the Beatles amongst others. Once Radio 1 had burst upon us, the radio was rarely tuned into anything else. On Sundays we listened to the end of the Chart Show and the announcement of this weeks new number one in the car on the way back from my Grandparents. Then Radio 1 finished and we 'joined' Radio 2 for Sing Something Simple. I was always glad we were close to home then!

The Top Twenty Chart was such an important part of my growing years, never missed it and often recorded it after my grandfather gave me one of those new fangled cassette recorders! It was of course linked in to Top of the Pops which is an entirely different blog.

I don't remember the name of the programme that was specifically for children that was on weekend mornings for a couple of hours but I do remember Ed Stewart and Tubby the Tuba and Milly, Molly, Mandy, The Laughing Policeman, Puff the Magic Dragon and all the other records that were played. Again this was a request show, so we the listeners chose the music that was played. Heady days.

When I got to being an unruly teenager in the 70s the old Radio 1 Road-show with Smiley Miley et al was de rigour and you were just not part of the scene unless you attended at least one road-show during the summer. One Saturday morning we waited for hours to catch a glimpse of Tony Blackburn who was opening the new shopping centre in Kingstanding.

At school we were forced to listen to a school morning assembly broadcast once a week and all I really remember about this was that it was incredibly boring. Mr Bennett, our Head Teacher had his faults but I think he gave us reasonable assemblies when he was running the show but I guess the man needed one morning off a week. We also used to have to do Music, Movement and Mime from the radio. That was all standing pretending to be trees blowing in the wind type of stuff.

I loved Noel Edmonds and DLT but loathed Jimmy Saville and that programme he did early on Sunday afternoons when he gave you points if you could remember the brackets in the title of some song he was playing from 20 years earlier! Like they were real points!

I still love the radio and have it on most of the time but rarely listen to music stations now. It's all Radio 4, Five Live, World Service....how boring and old I have become or maybe just too lazy.

Missing

I miss your arms around me, holding me tight, keeping me close. In bed I drifted into sleep with those arms around me and when I woke in the morning they were still there wrapped around my form as though I were some parcel marked 'fragile'. Those evenings watching our favourite TV programmes or a DVD, snuggling on the sofa, arms and legs entwined, a glass of red wine and soft, sweet kisses. The meals alone, candle light flickering across and illuminating the face I grew to love so much. Our laughter peeling together, sharing an anecdote or a joke or just life. The late night phone calls when were not together, letting each other know that at the end of the day there was someone in the big wide world that cared. I miss the touch of our fingers seeking the other out. The smiles of shared moments. The spontaneity of hugs from nowhere. The smell when I buried my face in your neck.

Clip, clip, cut, cut, snip, snip

I've spent a fair amount of time in two different hospitals recently as those who follow me on Facebook will know and it gave me some time to reflect on how differently two places with the same ethos and same purpose can operate so differently but also on which members of staff would be considered 'front line' and therefore not lose their jobs in the severe cuts in public services that we are to see over the next few years under our ConDem coalition government.

I hope that nurses and doctors will not lose their jobs but what about clinical assistants, care assistants, education and play co-ordinators, cleaners, and the multitude of other ancillary staff who have direct patient contact and who help to provide and decent service to patients?

When you need something or someone it is more likely that it will be a clinical or care assistant that is the first person to respond. They're the people who hold the hands of patients and their loved ones, make sure the bed is ready when a patient returns from surgery and that all appropriate equipment for monitoring is in the right place. They fetch and they carry and they chase up the named nurse who in theory is providing all the care for an individual patient. They are in effect the dogs-bodies but I wonder if they are considered essential front line staff. Certainly wards could run without them but that would put an enormous strain on the nursing staff and patient care would suffer enormously.

On the Children's wards there are education and play co-ordinators and what a job they do! Talking to each child and their parent or carer, assessing what activity might be helpful in directing the thoughts of a child away from pain. Setting up group activities and DVD showings for the teenagers. Sorting out books and games, making recommendations and gently persuading children to make an attempt to get out of bed and go down to the playroom. Again, wards could run without them but what a poorer experience a child would have without them. They enrich the life of the ward and touch the lives of individual children in a memorable way.

I could go on as this subject concerns me greatly and not just with regard to hospitals but for education too. Cutting 25% from an education budget will mean some pretty serious implications for the education of our children. It's almost as though the people of the UK feel that we must go through this agony of cuts and losses in order to attempt atonement for the vast excesses in consumption and lifestyle up until now because there is so little opposition to the drastic measures that have been outlined in the last week. I disagree. The cuts that are going to be made will change the lives of many and not for the better. Those who are least able to defend themselves such as the sick, the young, the old, the disabled, the carers will be the most affected and their voices will not be heard. You can see David Cameron and Nick Clegg et al getting ready with their ear plugs just to make sure that they don't have to listen because they do not want to listen and even if they heard hasn't the Prime Minister already said that protests will not be relevant to the action he has to take. What sort of a country are we going to fashion in the next generation for the generations that are to come?