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Almost every aspect of how Britain's schools are run
discourages the personal development that young people need
We've forgotten to teach social
skills, and our children are stagnating
Last year a bright 15-year-old, who comes from a home
without books but goes to a highly rated grammar school, came to stay
with us for a week over Christmas. At first he said little. It was clear
that he wasn't accustomed to laying tables for dinner or making
conversation with adults. Then, as he listened to other people's noisy
discussions, he began to ask tentative questions. What is a government
minister? What is the EU? Who's Mozart? Did Japan fight in the second
world war? What does Palestine mean, and what does it have to do with
Israel? His curiosity and his intelligence were obvious. His
inarticulacy and lack of a general or social education, despite his
apparently desirable schooling, were heartbreaking.
Neil had never been to the theatre. No one had ever
read him a book. He shared a room with an unemployed, drug-taking
brother. Most of his friends had gone to tough comprehensives and were
now dropouts getting into trouble. He had made some middle-class friends
when he started secondary school, but as time had gone on the gulf
between his experiences and theirs had begun to seem unbridgable, and
the friendships faded. School was an exam factory, where teachers had no
time to answer broader questions, open doors or give individual children
faith in their futures. Since Neil knew no one who had ever escaped from
a rough area like his, he had stopped believing that he might be an
exception. Isolated at home by his aspirations and intellect and at
school by his background, he had become deeply depressed and taken to
truanting.
This week's report by the Institute of Public Policy
Research on raising young people in Britain, Freedom's Orphans, makes
grim reading. Neil's experience is increasingly common. There is a
widening gulf between the way the more affluent majority socialise their
children and what happens to those with fewer resources. The children
who don't have the same experience of socialisation are being
permanently left behind.
As the IPPR's analysis of recent research makes clear,
this is a relatively new phenomenon. We already know, from the dual
studies of children born in a single week in 1958 and in 1970, that
social mobility weakened dramatically over a short period. There was an
84% chance that a child born into the richest quarter of the population
in 1958 would no longer have been in that position by their early 30s.
But almost half of the babies born into wealthier families in 1970 would
remain in the wealthiest group.
The IPPR has identified that, over a dozen years,
personal and social skills, such as self-control, self-motivation and an
ability to get on with others, became 33 times more important in
determining children's futures than they had been before. In 1958, those
with low incomes were only marginally less likely to develop good social
skills than the well off. But the 1970 cohort showed a big gap in these
skills between the classes.
The earlier group had easier paths to adulthood. Most
lived with both parents, and could continue with education or go
straight into relatively well-paid low-skilled or unskilled jobs at 16.
Deindustrialisation, and the rapid changes to family and social
structure, changed all that. Youth labour markets collapsed, families
became more fragile and complex, more mothers went out to work. Major
inequalities emerged in the way different classes were socialising their
young. Rising affluence at the top let richer groups pay for their
children to take part in structured and fulfilling activities. But,
lower down, a significant proportion of children and young people had
both less security in their lives, and less time with known and trusted
adults to help them make sense of it. As a result, these individuals
were far less likely than others to develop the resilience, the
confidence and the abilities they needed to take up opportunities in
this new and more uncertain world.
The IPPR warns that these divisions in society are as
real now, and likely to grow wider. In language particularly strong for
a leftwing thinktank, it says that the changes to families have
undermined their ability to socialise young people, and that communities
have lost their ability to enforce social norms. Adults in Britain are
less likely to intervene when they see antisocial behaviour than any
others in Europe. It concludes that "we have failed to replace the basic
building blocks of socialisation (family, religion ... and rigid
employment paths) with any coherent alternative".
This is an important intervention because it begins to
answer a question that has so puzzled the government: why, despite so
many efforts, there is still so little social mobility, so much bad
behaviour in public, and so little improvement in the educational
achievements of the deprived. The government has always taken a
mechanistic view of how people behave, tending to assume that providing
opportunity, exhortation and penalties will be enough. It needs to start
thinking about social and psychological barriers, and how children can
be helped to acquire desirable qualities like consideration and drive.
So far it has engaged in that argument in just one area; Sure Start
nurseries were set up to give infants the security and stimulation that
would develop their personalities and minds. But beyond that age there
has been little thought about how to bring children up.
Many initiatives may be needed, but the one
institution available to every child is school. Unfortunately, almost
every aspect of how schools are currently run discourages the
development of the personal skills so many children need. Five years
ago, anxious infant teachers were telling me that many pupils were
coming into school unable to talk properly, because they had so little
engagement with adults, and yet the national curriculum was only
interested in teaching them to read or write. There was no time for the
conversations these children needed.
Schools concentrate on learning for tests, with no
time to respond to children who can't keep up. The resulting
bewilderment, and sense of being part of an unresponsive machine, breeds
resentment and hopelessness in those left behind. It needn't be this
way. New research shows that children in schools which encouraged
reading for pleasure have more self-control and higher self-esteem. But
those schools are rare, and we are encouraging the opposite. Two years
ago, figures showed that British teenagers who had been brought up with
the national literacy hour had the some of the highest reading ages in
Europe, but enjoyed it least.
Changing schools' approach to children would demand
radical rethinking. At the moment there is a vacuum in many young
people's lives, where adult guidance and support used to be. We are
worse off than many European countries because we fail to match either
of two patterns. As the IPPR director has pointed out, in southern
Europe young people grow up surrounded by strong family, community and
religious bonds. In northern Europe, where Scandinavian countries have
patterns of family breakdown and single parenthood similar to ours, the
state spends much more money than we are willing to do providing social
organisations that can fill the remaining gaps.
We have arrived at the worst of both worlds. Both
morality and self-interest argue for a change. We can't afford to let
the Neils or their friends continue to be so dangerously and pointlessly
adrift.
Jenni Russell
8 November 2006
http://politics.guardian.co.uk/comment/story/0,,1942046,00.html
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