Tuesday 21 August 2007

Geoff's new new blog: Cambridge Crime

Geoff's new new blog: Cambridge Crime: "Links to this post: <$BlogBacklinkTitle$> <$BlogBacklinkSnippet$> posted by <$BlogBacklinkAuthor$> @ <$BlogBacklinkDateTime$> Create a Link"

FE - Further Education or Failing Education

It's that time of year again. Back to school again. A slightly difficult time for teachers who have probably just had enough of a break to seriously question their decision to remain in the profession, made even worse when the weather is like this.

It is a good time to think about education in Britain and the direction it is heading in. Gordon Brown has not yet foolishly given the media a soundbite as good as "Education, Education, Education", perhaps realising that it is one of those areas that has the potential to seriously damage positive approval ratings, but it is peskily enough, in the news right now. Apparently Britain's children are brighter than ever or the A-levels are easier than ever or a combination of both. But while A-levels are hogging the lime-light, might I direct your attention to Further Education (FE)- the ugly sister of secondary education. FE gets a lot of bad press, or worse, no press at all. It is forever being changed, its aims and the way it gets its funding constantly tweaked in search of a succesful model. This is as hopeless as forever changing the dressing on a wound that keeps bleeding. You can't blame the bandage for not stopping the blood if the wound has not been treated.

I have worked in FE for over four years now, and I have my reasons for sticking with it, I love my students and I love that I am working with groups that have been traditionally left behind or swept to one side by the educational sector. I truly believe in the importance of lifelong learning and feel that I am making a difference where that difference matters the most. I also believe that FE should not exist, at least not in its present form. Currently, I feel that it is a sign of failure in education in this country, just as the existance of charities is a sign of market failure. Ironically, I have only ever worked in the charity or education sectors as this does not mean that they are not worthy causes.

Further Education is not, as it sounds, somewhere to find courses to further your studies or indulge in recreational learning. It is also increasingly not where adults can go to get back into the educational system or access Higher Education. FE has changed almost beyond recognition in the four years I have worked in it. It is becoming a dumping ground for the children that nobody else knows how or wants to deal with. In London FE colleges Black and Minority Ethnic groups are disproportionately represented, with a vast chunk of those students originating from different countries.

While FE is becoming a useful place to put children that are "difficult to teach", the role that FE has traditionally played in helping adult learners access education has almost entirely been killed off by the Learning and Skills Council (LSC). On the one hand phrases like "lifelong learning" and "widening participation" are bandied about in current policy documents but they are fast losing meaning when the funding for anyone over 25 is being cut down to nothing. Life does not seem to begin at 40 afterall, according to the LSC, it ends at 25.

It is widely accepted that one of the reasons that children from lower and working class backgrounds do not pursue degrees is because their parents did not and therefore it isn't considered something that people like them do. I have taught a lot of adults on Access programmes and I always thought that programmes like this would surely have the knockon effect of encouraging the children of my students to also pursue degree courses, inspired by their parent's achievement. It seems completely illogical to me that the government would on the one hand say that children from working class backgrounds should be encouraged to go to University, while at the same time taking away the opportunity for their parents.

Scarily enough the new educational model being promoted by the LSC, in its actions, rather than research findings, is that educational funding should be entirely decided by the business world as they are allocating funding specifically for x amount of learners, aged y for z industry.

I am frightened by the idea of education being for the sake of business rather than for the sake of learning. Analytical skills and the ability to problem solve, whether learned through a vocational course in mechanics or a purely academic course in philosophy, will equip the learner to adapt to any industry that might be important in the future, whereas training up thousands of IT professionals only to discover when they graduate with their diploma in IT that all the jobs have been outsourced to Southeast Asia will not. Let's not forget, the government nor the business world can predict which jobs will be important in the next 3 years let alone 50.

Education must not be reduced to skills, it is demeaning to the people it is supposed to serve. The children of this country should not be treated as future professionoids, programmed to serve the future needs of the business model.

BBC 2006 Article on Adult Education

Monday 13 August 2007

Why wallpaper? or Why does DIY blow?

We have begun the process... we have begun work in the DIY hell that is our house. Starting with my favourite DIY job of all - stripping wallpaper. Christian has suffered moderate scald wounds and I have had a lovely steam facial. Unfortunately, any benefits from the steam treatment are undone by the adhesive vapours that follow, plugging up pores and probably causing cancer of the sinuses.

Here is the thing about wallpaper - it is a bad idea. There is no situation in which mere mortals would find themselves in where wallpaper would be the answer. Designer wallpaper is gorgeous - http://www.interiors-europe.co.uk/catalog/index.php?cPath=25_167 have a look.

Now have a look at the price tag. The only time you would use this stuff is to refurbish a palace or penthouse apartment on the upper eastside. We have neither - we have a 1930's ex-local authority property and this was not the kind of wallpaper that was used. It was a strange woodchip and old newspaper blend used to do a lousy job of covering an even worse job of plastering, including the ceiling, which couldn't have been easy to achieve. Then, some genius came along and thought - this is ugly, let's make it better - by painting on it.

The only person more evil than a person who uses wallpaper is the Hitler who decides to paint over wallpaper, with vinyl paint. And here's the real tragedy - everytime I have ever seen wallpaper stripped - there is never just one layer of paper, it is always papered over, painted over and - my personal favourite - plastered over. What the F***?

So - the front room is stripped and we can clearly see the state of the walls and start the healing process - literally, the burns on Christian's arm is pretty nasty.

Friday 10 August 2007

Welcome to Cambridge

I got punched.

Right in the ribs, it hurt, it still does - I have a bruise.

6 years in London and the worst thing that ever happened to me was a scizophrenic man spat on me because of my accent. One week in Cambridge and I get assaulted on my bike, with my child on the back. So lame!

"What'd ya do?"

Nothing, I was biking along the road - decided to go to Jesus Green to get the child ice cream - and was in a particularly charming neighbourhood. In fact I was just looking around wondering if I should add this neighbourhood to my list of places I aspire to live in and before I could add it I came upon a woman, with a toy yorkshire terrier (I once memorised a book of dog breeds - you know my policy, don't ask and don't judge), trailing behind her two male "friends" who were down a pedestrian and cycle only path, ahead of her. She was shouting about the car being parked over there and they were disputing it. She was drunk and I was trying to go by her slowly and politely when she turned to me and recognised me. When I say she recognised me - that is to say she thought I was a) the mother who never loved her b) the teacher who failed her c) the cop that busted her - or d) a combination of all three. While she was planning her attack I was still wondering who she was, as she clearly "knew" me. Suddenly she turned her back to me and as I prepared to bike past she whipped back around, yeilding a plastic fork. "You don't like that, do you?" she demanded.

"No - who would?" I was now trying to determine the seriousness of this, was she a drunk playing a joke or was I about to get a nasty jab. I realised that it was the second and knew that I was stuck. I couldn't get past fast enough and she might jab the child, on the other hand it was a new sweater. I also couldn't decide where to go as her mates were at the bottom of the path - were they in on it, how would i get past them with a fork sticking out of my side? Thankfully, she realised that the fork was inadequate for the job and she threw it down and punched me in the ribs instead. I biked off before she could do it again, cursing my idiotic and impractical shoes.

As I approached the bottom of the path her friends asked, horrified if she had poked me with a stick. I said - no it was a fork and she didn't poke me, she punched me. They informed me that "she wasn't well" and I agreed and asked them to please stand the fuck back and if they fucking well tried anything they would fucking regret it.

They obliged, which was just as well because by regret it I meant that they might possibly have to bear witness to me screaming hysterically and crying and possibly bleeding on them if they had attacked me because I had no intention of fighting back.

My mother in law insisted that I inform the police, they were useless. We returned to the scene of the crime and I suggested they get the fork for fingerprints. I was met with blank faces in reply.

About Me

I am an expat living the UK. I moved here in 2000 and really do love it but I also love to moan (how very British of me) about everything, including life on the island. I am supposed to be able to speak Spanish but I can only order things from menus and insult people after years of not practising anything else.