Let’s focus on what children HAVE learned this year, rather than what they’ve missed.

With this weekend’s reports DfE officials are considering plans to extend the school day so children catch-up with lost learning, can we not consider what children have gained or need instead?  Let’s stop and think for a moment about what could be in the COVID-19 curriculum.  What are the things we should all acknowledge, applaud, and accredit, before we return to bad habits?

There is an opportunity to put recent wellbeing and mental health rhetoric into practice; and truly support this generation to make sense of the year and be supported to recover appropriately.  We should not cause even more harm through our own poor choices. 

At the best times, children’s education can feel like an unstoppable treadmill. One full of pressure, urgency and the inevitable build up to exams. This year, much of the public and political focus has been on a deficit model; the things that haven’t happened in children’s learning. But I argue the past 12 months have been a rich learning environment – good and bad. We should be awarding GCSEs for all the learning COVID-19 has brought.

  • Children and young people have learned about politics. How it connects to day-to-day life and legislates for our individual liberties.  The year has shown how imperfect, controversial and beneficial politics can be, as different people react to it, have conflicting opinions, and respectfully debate it – or not. There’s a chance we could motivate social interest or public service here. 
  • They’ve learned about viruses, infections and risk; the importance of personal hygiene, health and safety and handwashing. The role of the NHS, scientists, testing and vaccinations in tackling the pandemic. Have we opened up the world of science for many more children this year?
  • They’ve learned the world can be a dangerous, difficult and unpredictable place.  And how various behaviours are thought to help keep people safe. They have observed how people can get ill, sometimes seriously, and there has been death.  Either directly through family and friends, or in the news; perhaps through high-profile people like Captain Tom.  Skills like compassion, processing loss, and experiencing grief are all vital life skills.
  • They’ve learned economics, income and employment can change in the world, the community and their family household.  Perhaps understanding how to take new opportunity, or the importance of savings and/or adapting lifestyles and budgets, or the burden, uncertainty and worry of debt. This may have forged new attitudes to work and money.
  • They’ve learned more about what their parents do at work, perhaps by observing their parents more, or listening in on conversations, work phone calls or zoom meetings. It may have given a deeper appreciation and understanding of what their parents actually do for a living. New careers could have been imagined.
  • They’ve learned more about personal relationships at home – the positives and the negatives. They may have witnessed or participated in new relationships forming; or those under strain, going through the processes of reconciliation or endings. Domestic abuse may have affected them like never before.  Have we seen the development of feelings and emotions, of a sense of right and wrong, the techniques of negotiation, protection or other interpersonal skills?  These are chances to hone skills of resilience and positive connections, love and relationships. 
  • They’ve learned the advantages and drawbacks of studying at home.  Skills and abilities to be a self-starter, to be self-sufficient, to be alone, or to be a self-directed learner have been required.  Home schooling may have brought closer relationships with parents or carers, put them under strain, or grown greater appreciation of school, college or teachers.
  • They’ve had time to learn new practical skills; anything including cooking, gardening, growing, baking, writing, drawing, hairdressing, or exercise. They’ve might have learned to be their own or the household’s IT department; supporting friends and family to be online, use new hardware and software. And social skills like patience, gratitude, conversation perhaps. Even the ability to just stop, be more mindful or mindless.  A slower, smaller life – and not one filled with meaningless activity, the distraction of busyness, thoughtless consumption and waste, and directionless rushing around could have huge impacts on future behaviour choices. 
  • They’ve learned who in their social and family circle is important to them, and how deep connections and sharing feelings help everyone’s mental health and well-being. All these rich experiences need processing to make sense of, and some to recover from, without an imposed sense they somehow lack something that 2020 took away. 

All of this, and perhaps much more, is what we should be recognising and rewarding now – and certainly when things start to feel normal again. We should not rush into an ill-judged and unthinking post pandemic pedagogy. Children and young people deserve more than that, as their lifelong learning journeys continue. We must learn from them how this unique experience can be used to positively shape what happens next for them physically, socially and emotionally as well.

Photo by Magda Ehlers on Pexels.com

Bye January, hello February!

It’s the end of the long month of January. The darkest, coldest and most depressing month of the year, we are told. I didn’t go vegan, I wasn’t dry, but I increased exercise from twice to three times a week. Some rules were relaxed, not that they were especially stringent before.

However, it’s been one month in a very long year. One hopefully never to be repeated. I cannot quite decide whether the past 12 months have been seemed endless, or if they have flown. The idea of a year of COVID-19 lockdown and its associated impacts is mind blowing. But it has been an experience to learn from. The passing of each day, week or month offers reflection time and an opportunity to plan.

The last day of January 2021, for me, was one of those days when motivation was low. A see-saw of emotions. I’d look in the mirror and think I needed to shave, trim my hair, wash. Whilst at the same time deciding I couldn’t be bothered to do any of that. A cycle of conflicting and mixed feelings. Thank goodness it was a Sunday. But with little that had to be done, it might’ve been better to be a distracting and task focused weekday.

To help, and deploying a well-used and effective strategy, I declared that I was “having one of those days”. I wasn’t going to fight it. Instead, I was going with it. Because it would pass. And anyway, I said I’ve only had half a dozen of such days all year, and given the circumstances that isn’t at all bad. My husband replied he thought it was a few more than six. I disputed that and conceded it was no more than 10. The strategy out of this mood was agreed. Ride with the ebb and flow. Dig deep and go for a bracing country walk within acceptable distance from the house.

It was a tough ask and if I could’ve wrapped myself in a duvet and walked through the fields and country lanes, I would’ve. As a substitute, I commandeered a coat with a huge hood, popped on a woolly hat and scarf. Thinking about it, I adopted a grumpy teenager-like demeanour and sat in the passenger seat whilst we went searching for a suitable local spot. Driving through the villages and country roads, I tutted at the fly-tipping, uttering missives about local government policy and the like.

Gradually, the mood lightened. Because like all endings there are beginnings. The end of January is better known as February. And for me, this is a much better time to plan the year ahead. Once the ‘hangover’ of the Christmas and New Year holidays has passed. February is lighter and brighter. Winter is far from over, but there are signs of a spring to come. There are snowdrops and daffodils peeping out of the cold soil. Bird song seems to get louder. The days are noticeably longer. That all gives grounds for optimism.

Today? At my desk at home, listing like a champ. Talking about and planning for exciting things ahead. Still need to sort my beard and hair out though.

Photo by Simon Berger on Pexels.com

Is early years trapped in a toxic cycle?

Often, we can find ourselves in a place we don’t want to be. A position we weren’t heading for, a situation unplanned, an ambition unmet, or a place we can’t escape. If that’s you right now, then it’s time to break free. And key to that, is the adage: if you want things to change, change yourself. I know from experience this is true.

What sparked this blog? It was the constant stream of lobbying reports, blogs and articles from early years colleagues. They all have in common a theme of complaining and observing about early years’ position and our status in society, and more specifically the world of education. They all ask for more. More recognition, resource and repute to at least reach equality with others.

There’s little I disagree with. Its always been part of my mission. And it remains the case. Although things have got better in my 30 years of early years, the work is not done yet. I concur that things don’t seem to join up. That there are many things that are wrong, or just don’t make common sense. They don’t compute. It’s frustrating, to say the least. There is no good reason why people should regard early years as having lower status than other learning, education or children’s services, that the workforce is somehow less important, less qualified or less able. Its just not right and proper. The opposite is true.

But, here is my problem. And here is my idea. I think we are part of the problem. We are spreading these thoughts and under-valuing prejudices by endlessly repeating them. By reminding people at every turn. And it isn’t working. It isn’t achieving our goals. As a sector, we have become tools of our own oppression. The impact? We are turning people off entering the sector or staying within it. We are giving others the words to oppress us even more. To view us with ever-decreasing respect. All of this not only sows the seeds of such self-fulfilling prophecies, it grows the crop and harvests it too. It is going a long way to reduce the confidence of the sector and diminish our right to reasonable demands and expectations of equality in children’s services, and the achievement of our ambitious goals for children, families, the workforce, providers and society as a whole.

We need to change. We need to switch our narrative to one that is much more visionary, more positive and more future focused. If we do that, more people will listen, more pennies will drop, more people will join the good cause, and others will be sure to follow. Come on early years, we can do that, if we are prepared to change the story.

The last blog of the year: The best bits of 2020.

This is the last blog of the year.  2020.  A year, well documented and much described.  And one that has prompted a range of my blogs.  Ones that focused on coping with current conditions, changing, and planning – and the impact on business and employment.  Others that shared my feelings around coping with lockdown, the emotional ups and downs, adapting to living in a smaller, quieter, and in some ways an unchanging world.  And blogs that highlighted the effects of news coverage, changing policies, uncertainties and the resultant anxieties.

I completely acknowledge the trauma and the worry, the loss of work, livelihoods and loved ones.  It has been, and continues to be, an extraordinary experience.  Today’s blog though is unashamedly and determinedly all about the four best things to come out of the year.  From my personal experience.

Being smaller.  The scale of life has reduced.  I have spent much more time at home.  Home has felt like the sanctuary, rather than the ‘basecamp’ from where I travelled for work or pleasure.  There has been no global-trotting, no business trips to London, no social life like it used to be.  And so, resource consumption, my carbon footprint, has been dramatically scaled-down.  That feels good for me and for everyone.  Despite the mixed feelings of missing the big beautiful world out there. 

Being at home.  ‘Staying in’ has helped rebalance a sense of grounding in these bricks and mortar that shelter us from what is going on out there.  I feel better connected with it.  Literally a grounding at home rather than flying around in the air.  Time has been used differently.  There’s been time to smell the flowers, scavenge the hedgerows of the surrounding countryside, tidy drawers, and make preserves for the store cupboard.

Being together.  There has been a stronger sense of connection with friends, family, colleagues and clients.   Communication online has resulted in much more time together and often in better ways. And I think many relationships have improved.  There has been a focusing on the things we have in common rather than the differences that drive us apart.  We have supported each other to cope with the effects and impact of COVID-19. 

Being hopeful about the future.  At various points this year we could all have been forgiven for thinking we had been through the worst.  But it seems at each and every turn we suffer further incremental and unpredictable challenges.  But we all resolve to ‘hope for the best’. 

What has happened has caused us all to rethink the scale of our lives and businesses, live in different ways in our homes, connect in new ways with those around us, and adapt to current situations.  We must now consider what we might want to do next, when greater choices are afforded to us.  That’s a job for 2021.

Yoko Ono 2006.

Minus one wedding and a funeral

Today was that day.  The day once a year I quietly sit down with a pile of Christmas cards, envelopes and stamps.  Alongside the stack of admin is my address book.  A delightful tradition and an old school approach, I know, to still have a hard-backed address book.  Surely we all have everything on our ‘phones these days?  But it’s one I don’t want to let go of.  It feels like a constant and a ‘back-up’ in the event of technology letting us all down.  Today was a moment’s pause in a typically busy year.  A different year, we all know that. And enough said on that matter.

Today did feel like an oasis of routine. There was almost a nice warm glow akin to what we are sold in all those seasonally saccharin TV ads.  It is a pleasure to write little notes and updates and best wishes.

There is another side though.  The sadness that comes with reviewing the year and updating the address book.  This year there has been one breakup and one death.  It is to be expected, it is real life and time passes.  But the experience is an emotional one.  Crossing out a name in the address book feels real and tangible.  It feels more polite than deleting a contact on my ‘phone.  However, it seems less final, the shadow of the relationship or of the dearly departed friend remains on the page.  Until it is time for a new address book that is. 

The whole idea of Christmas and even birthday cards is, we are led to believe, on the way out.  Something that is being replaced by texts, social media postings, or video calls.  I think that would be a shame.  Whilst I use all these new methods, and enjoy them, there is something more tangible when writing on a card and sending it in the post.  Online communications have kept us all together this year, in some cases it has brought many of us closer than before.  But a card has something else to offer, a physical connection, an expression of thought, love or friendship.  And for me, it is an opportunity to share art.  A card is usually an artwork, an illustration or a photograph.  Which should be regarded as a gift itself.  And favourite examples can be kept in one’s scrapbook.  Now there’s another tradition – how old school am I? 

Photo by Jonathan Borba on Pexels.com