Bread and Butter
The start of a new academic year is always an exciting time. It is characterised by high levels of energy and enthusiasm and fuelled by returning staff who are reinvigorated from a break. There is a freshness and optimism that permeates the buildings as the education world takes full advantage of this reboot opportunity, that rarely exists in the outside world. New staff, new furniture and fresh starts can all contribute to making September a really good month to be working in schools.
This typical feel-good factor is certainly what I have witnessed on my visits to academies in our trust over the last few days as I have been greeted by the sight of new haircuts and new uniforms of the smiling pupils who make the classrooms such buoyant places. I have also found bullish, confident staff, keen to make an impression on their new cohort and eager to get going on what really is a clean new page.
The start of the year is also an ideal time for leaders to communicate to staff expectations and stress exactly what the priorities are for the next 12 months. I was always keen to take advantage of this climate of positivity to remind staff that no matter what else is happening in primary schools we will always be judged on our ability to get pupils to read, write and understand numbers.
Huge progression has undoubtedly been made in all aspects of education over the last 60 years or more, but the historic 3 R’s mantra still has a place. While it is of course true to say that we all want our pupils to be well rounded individuals who are healthy and happy and the successful future generation, nevertheless in the eyes of the outside world little leeway is given if pupils leave our academies at the age of 11 with low literate and numerate skills and we should never lose sight of this fact.
The repetitive phrase I gave to capture this message was that the teaching of English and Maths was our ‘bread and butter’. I know many thought I was like a broken record, but I made no apologies because it is simply that important. We can’t afford to take liberties or short cuts with these subjects. They are what we are judged against and if anyone thinks that the bread and butter analogy is too boring and limiting then I would be anxious to point out that it is possible to have really high quality bread.
I am certainly not advocating that these subjects should be bland like the ubiquitous, sliced white loaf. On the contrary, they should be as good and wholesome as artisan, crafted bread that is fresh and made with only the best possible flour.
A normal white sliced loaf it is the same all the way through, nothing special, nothing different. Of course, it does the job that it is supposed to do but does it cultivate a love of bread and an eager anticipation of a fabulous, tasty sandwich. No, I don’t think so. It is merely functional. The issue is that a sliced white loaf in Plymouth can quite easily be exactly the same as one in Newcastle and this is much the same as an ‘off the shelf’ lesson produced by some national education company’s published scheme. Settling for bland but reliable doesn’t encourage originality, it doesn’t lend itself towards experimentation and it most definitely doesn’t foster the pride in delivering a lesson that is personal and bespoke. When a teacher ‘owns’ a lesson that is really theirs then they invest in it, nurture it and give it everything they have. If it works, it is because of them. If it isn’t as successful then the teachers know exactly where it went wrong and can learn and develop from that knowledge. It can’t be dismissed simply as the scheme being weak in that area.
A great teacher is like a skilled baker who bakes from ‘scratch’, using their own ability, expertise and high-quality ingredients to make something that is really appetising. It creates a warmth inside them and puts a smile on their face because it is theirs and belongs to them.
I am reminded of probably the best mission statement I have ever seen which I also found in the world of baking on the back of a pack of biscuits. As I savoured the delicious taste of a Border’s chocolate ginger biscuit, I idly picked up the packaging to discover this fabulous statement on the back.
Our best academies have staff who are obsessed with teaching and proud to be delivering bread and butter lessons that are nothing short of exceptional.
On one of my recent visits to an academy I noticed that the first lesson of a morning in a key stage 2 class was art. It was being delivered by the class teacher who had obviously decided that this would be the best start to the day and the content was low level. Now I am not suggesting that English and Maths can’t be delivered successfully in an afternoon, and I have nothing against a broad and balanced curriculum, but I couldn’t help thinking that an opportunity was being missed here. The pupils were new to class, eager to impress the teacher and ready to meet the challenge of the new year but instead of receiving a Maths or English lesson that oozed pace and expectation they were engaged in a gentle activity that wasn’t driving them forward in areas that are ours and their ‘bread and butter’.
We don’t need to pressurise our pupils and make them think that Maths and English are all that matters, and we don’t want to turn our academies into Sats factories, but the fact remains that reading, writing and number are what we are principally here for. These subjects can be exciting, they can lend themselves to challenge and they can make the pupils feel good about themselves. They don’t have to be standardised like a sliced loaf.
My hope for our academies as we start this new academic year is that we remain achieving great standards of literacy and numeracy and we keep pushing forward and avoid any complacency. Then we really can consider ourselves to be something far, far better than a sliced white loaf. And finally, many of you know my love of Denmark and my admiration for their healthy lifestyles, contentment and well-being so you won’t be surprised by me wanting all our top-quality bread to be spread with generous amounts of Danish Lurpack butter!
Now you are talking!