Up until four years ago, I think it is safe to say I was only ever friends with people my own age. The fuel of school and university friends can get you a long way in life, without needing to add any extra. I have had precious chapters where I have crossed paths with a wise, older ladies. Before having my boys, I lived in Northern Thailand for a year and I would have coffee every Sunday with two divorced American ladies in their sixties. They had found independence later in life and had chosen to use it helping kids on the Thai/Burma border, riding mopeds and learning to cook Pad Thai. I learnt so much from them. But I don't think I thought of them as friends. I wouldn't presume to be an equal to such brilliance.
Four years ago we moved to a small village in Surrey. Within days, three different people had knocked on our door with wine and invitations to the pub. My city friends would grimace at the thought of this - comfortable with anonymity and privacy. I was on the fence but now I'm firmly in the village garden and I'll tell you why. The beauty of village friends is they are all different ages but within five minutes of meeting them, that doesn't even register. I was in a literal village garden yesterday, at an annual drinks-fest organised by a gorgeous couple who are well into their retirement. As I stood amongst the phenomenal flower beds, (I was going to attempt to name some of the flowers but won't embarrass myself) I watched my four year old being taught darts by a ten year old, I watched my other half animatedly discussing Tonka toys with a 72 year old and I was learning about the pitfalls of thirteen year old sons from another neighbour.
There was no competition, no life comparison, no pressure - pure enjoyment of other people's stories and experiences. Incidentally, it isn't just age that varies in our village gang, the bank balances are pretty diverse too (us being the poor relations). Again, not a problem - everyone looks out for each other, enjoys the occasional Sunday walk, the odd night at the pub, and the joy that is waving to at least four friendly faces on the way to the local shop. These regular meet-ups have taught me a lot about friendship and have reminded me of Kahlil Gibran's lovely quote, "Friendship is always a sweet responsibility, never an opportunity." Towards the end of my thirties, it seemed a lot of people my age were willing to talk to you merely to gauge whether you were going to be of use to them in some way. I was probably guilty of that too but it is always a good thing to be reminded to look for our responsibilities to others rather than opportunities for ourselves.
I must admit that it isn't just older, wiser folk that we have the pleasure of living near. We are now officially in our forties and the young, fresh-faced thirty-somethings are moving in around us. The beauty of this is that I now have people to call on to ask about the best place to have a dance and people that know about rhododendrons. (Obviously, while also thinking about my responsibilities to them such as loaning out slow cookers and passing on garden toys as needed..) The upshot is, I want you to take a moment to consider: how many of your friends are from entirely different age groups to you? If the answer is not many, I urge you to tap into this unwrapped treasure. Join a new group, start one yourself or, if all else fails, come join our village. We're the ones with W.B Yeats' words over the entrance; "There are no strangers here; only friends you haven't met yet."
Monday 11 June 2018
Saturday 2 June 2018
The Kids Can Do Hard Things
This year is my eighth year teaching kids who are out of school. I generally teach them by themselves, in their home and we tend to chat a lot in between the curriculum activities. They can be out of school due to disruptive behaviour or crippling anxiety or any form of inability to cope in a school environment - no two stories are the same and I consider it a real privilege to gain their confidence and trust over the months we work together.
While each student obviously has their own story, there are two patterns that have become too clear in the conversations I have had over the years and I wanted to share these general trends with you. Firstly, most of these kids feel that the reasons things didn't work out well for them are external; they feel it is someone else's fault. Secondly, most of these kids feel that the solution to their predicament is external; someone else is going to solve their current situation. The fault is out there and the answer is out there.
Recently, in the lead up to Key Stage 2 SATs, I have read many posts complaining about how much pressure the schools are putting on our eleven year olds. There is anger at the system - why are our kids being subjected to testing at all? There is resentment of individual schools or teachers - why are the kids being overloaded with past papers at the expense of creative learning experiences? There is concern about individual kids - how can it be acceptable that they are waking crying in fear of failure? There is criticism of the actual test papers - how can our kids be expected to pass tests that many adults are claiming to find impossible?
It got me thinking about where I stand in all of this.
In every conversation I've had with friends regarding any of the above complaints, I found myself commiserating and nodding along to the anger and resentment. It's hard not to see these points of view. However, I think we are doing our kids a real disservice by approaching their experience in this way. Yes, the system is uncomfortable. Yes, the kids are worked incredibly hard to learn grammar and maths. Yes, the tests are flipping challenging. But how much is our handling of all of this contributing to their negative experience?
Like it or not, these tests are here for the entire state-educated nation. We can hate them but the kids are still having to sit them. The popular approach has been to reassure kids that these tests aren't testing them, they are testing the school. They don't need to worry about them or work hard for them as the school are at fault for putting them in this horrible situation. Again, I took part in this rationale and can see its short term benefits. However, I have changed my tune. I realised that, in giving our kids these platitudes, we are planting the early seeds of what I'm now seeing in the teenagers who have fallen out of the system. We're effectively saying it is not their responsibility to work hard, it is the school's. Their teacher/school is at fault for requiring this of them. The fault is out there and the answer is out there.
My eleven year old has had to work incredibly hard this year but I am grateful for this. I want him to be a hard worker. I don't want him to ever think that it is anyone's responsibility other than his for him to work hard. I want him to understand that the consequences of not working hard will be his to own - he can't throw that blame to anyone else. By criticising the schools and cuddling them close, aren't we communicating that they should resent and blame people who expect them to work hard and need us to protect them from any such people? How will this work when they carry this through to Year Ten? To their first job? To their relationships?
I hear the shouts that they are just kids - I get it, I do. But I have seen these patterns spread from the early years and cause much bigger hurdles in the later years that I think it is really important that we really take our own stand on who we want our kids to be. Kids don't forget the times you have let them off the hook or criticised their teachers. These will be hurled back at you when you are trying to get them to stay focused at the start of Year 9. Surely we want them to grow up knowing that they have the power to forge their own paths and the responsibility for their own part in following them.
This is also my eighth year marking the SATs. I have to say that I was shocked when I first saw the level of grammar that these kids were expected to understand. This year, it has been a quiet pleasure to see how they are all rising to the occasion. This generation really know their stuff when it comes to reading and writing and that is such a powerful life tool. If you can write well then you can think well and that is surely a gift we'd like our kids to have. Admittedly, the tests are causing external havoc but the kids are quietly getting on and working hard and I am really proud of them. May they always know they can do hard things.
While each student obviously has their own story, there are two patterns that have become too clear in the conversations I have had over the years and I wanted to share these general trends with you. Firstly, most of these kids feel that the reasons things didn't work out well for them are external; they feel it is someone else's fault. Secondly, most of these kids feel that the solution to their predicament is external; someone else is going to solve their current situation. The fault is out there and the answer is out there.
Recently, in the lead up to Key Stage 2 SATs, I have read many posts complaining about how much pressure the schools are putting on our eleven year olds. There is anger at the system - why are our kids being subjected to testing at all? There is resentment of individual schools or teachers - why are the kids being overloaded with past papers at the expense of creative learning experiences? There is concern about individual kids - how can it be acceptable that they are waking crying in fear of failure? There is criticism of the actual test papers - how can our kids be expected to pass tests that many adults are claiming to find impossible?
It got me thinking about where I stand in all of this.
In every conversation I've had with friends regarding any of the above complaints, I found myself commiserating and nodding along to the anger and resentment. It's hard not to see these points of view. However, I think we are doing our kids a real disservice by approaching their experience in this way. Yes, the system is uncomfortable. Yes, the kids are worked incredibly hard to learn grammar and maths. Yes, the tests are flipping challenging. But how much is our handling of all of this contributing to their negative experience?
Like it or not, these tests are here for the entire state-educated nation. We can hate them but the kids are still having to sit them. The popular approach has been to reassure kids that these tests aren't testing them, they are testing the school. They don't need to worry about them or work hard for them as the school are at fault for putting them in this horrible situation. Again, I took part in this rationale and can see its short term benefits. However, I have changed my tune. I realised that, in giving our kids these platitudes, we are planting the early seeds of what I'm now seeing in the teenagers who have fallen out of the system. We're effectively saying it is not their responsibility to work hard, it is the school's. Their teacher/school is at fault for requiring this of them. The fault is out there and the answer is out there.
My eleven year old has had to work incredibly hard this year but I am grateful for this. I want him to be a hard worker. I don't want him to ever think that it is anyone's responsibility other than his for him to work hard. I want him to understand that the consequences of not working hard will be his to own - he can't throw that blame to anyone else. By criticising the schools and cuddling them close, aren't we communicating that they should resent and blame people who expect them to work hard and need us to protect them from any such people? How will this work when they carry this through to Year Ten? To their first job? To their relationships?
I hear the shouts that they are just kids - I get it, I do. But I have seen these patterns spread from the early years and cause much bigger hurdles in the later years that I think it is really important that we really take our own stand on who we want our kids to be. Kids don't forget the times you have let them off the hook or criticised their teachers. These will be hurled back at you when you are trying to get them to stay focused at the start of Year 9. Surely we want them to grow up knowing that they have the power to forge their own paths and the responsibility for their own part in following them.
This is also my eighth year marking the SATs. I have to say that I was shocked when I first saw the level of grammar that these kids were expected to understand. This year, it has been a quiet pleasure to see how they are all rising to the occasion. This generation really know their stuff when it comes to reading and writing and that is such a powerful life tool. If you can write well then you can think well and that is surely a gift we'd like our kids to have. Admittedly, the tests are causing external havoc but the kids are quietly getting on and working hard and I am really proud of them. May they always know they can do hard things.
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