Whole Class Instruction Enables Targeted Support

In-class differentiation means that the whole class is disadvantaged, because they cannot experience an ordered classroom where the expert instructs them. They cannot experience a coherent curriculum because the curriculum must be personalised.

But there is a huge difference between in-class differentiation and targeted support outside class. Schools such as Michaela, for example, target pupils who need it with an intensive synthetic phonics programme. This is because they recognise that without these fundamentals firmly in place, pupils will not be able to access fully the rich knowledge curriculum that they offer through whole class instruction.

Or consider the example of Japan. Large mixed ability classes receive whole class instruction, and they are all expected to reach the same standard. But teachers regularly give additional support to pupils outside lesson time. They are able to do this because they teach far fewer lessons per week due to the large class sizes, and because they are not wasting time producing complicated, ineffective plans for different activities within each lesson.

This is the best model. Coherent, whole class instruction in orderly classrooms, with the expectation that everyone will master the content, combined with targeted support outside the classroom, made possible by an efficient whole school approach.

In the madness and chaos of differentiated classrooms, with exhausted teachers and the noise and distraction of multiple activities, those who need additional support do not get it. In the orderly, sane world of a coherent curriculum and whole class instruction, there is plenty of time and energy to give them the extra help they need.

Whole class instruction enables targeted support. Differentiation damages everyone’s progress, but like all ineffective approaches, it hurts the disadvantaged most of all.

Further reading:

Differentiation Damages the Disadvantaged

The Cult of Differentiation

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An Orwellian Education

George_Orwell_press_photo

Eric Arthur Blair (1903-1950)

In George Orwell’s Animal Farm (1945), education plays a crucial role. It is because most of the animals do not succeed in learning to read and write that the pigs dominate the formulation of the principles of Animalism, the allegorical equivalent of Marxism-Leninism. But it is not only literacy which matters. Memory is a vital component of the plot too, as most of the animals fail to memorise the Seven Commandments, the founding principles of the Rebellion which are painted in large letters on the barn wall. Thus when Squealer, who represents Stalin’s Minister of Propaganda Molotov, alters the Commandments, the animals do not have a clear and certain reference point in their long term memories which allows them to be sure that something is amiss. Squealer also changes history, reversing the role of Snowball (Trotsky) from that of revolutionary hero to that of traitor. Squealer’s lies are so detailed and persuasive that they come to replace reality in the animals’ memories.

As the animals are the allegorical representation of the people of the Soviet Union, it’s worth considering what Orwell is suggesting about education for the masses. There are different types of animals on the farm, and their educational capacity varies from full literacy, in the case of the pigs who represent the Bolshevik elite, down to a complete inability to learn how to read and write, together with a very hazy, indistinct memory that is easy manipulated.

What does this suggest about the people of the Soviet Union under Stalin? Animal Farm suggests that there are different types of people who are capable of different levels of education, and there are those whose capacities for learning are so limited that they will always be at the mercy of their intellectual superiors. This was a widely held belief when Orwell wrote the novel in the forties, and it led to the creation of the two tier education system after the Second World War, based on the assumption that only a small minority could benefit from an academic curriculum.

Thankfully, this belief does not correspond with reality. The capacity to remember is not limited to a privileged few. It is a universal human capacity. Although fluid intelligence – the processing power of the brain – varies quite widely, crystallised intelligence – the store of schemas in long term memory – can make up for this variation. Everyone can remember. Everyone can become smarter and think better about anything, so long as they build up a store of knowledge in their long term memory.

This means that there are no sheep among the human race. There are no people condemned just to bleat whatever slogan the elite imposes upon them. All can remember, and this is the antidote to propaganda. But this antidote depends upon an education system that recognises this reality and endows ordinary people with the treasures of knowledge from past ages, so that they won’t be stranded in the present and easy prey to those who tell lies about history.

William C Bagley, who did valiant battle with his colleagues in the progressive-dominated Columbia Teachers College, put it well in 1922. He was concerned that the misuse of intelligence tests was leading to the categorisation of humanity into those who could and could not benefit from an academic curriculum:

To endow the masses with genius is biologically impossible; but to endow the masses with the fruits of genius is both educationally possible and socially most profitable. The mental tests will help most if they aid the teacher in discharging this transcendent duty. They will render a gratuitous and disastrous disservice if they encourage in the teacher the conviction that the illumination of common minds is either an impossible or a relatively unimportant task. (See Diane Ravitch, Left Back, p153)

The rhetoric of the twenties, with categories such as ‘feeble minded’, would not go down well these days. But in a softer form, these ideas persist. Too often, children are labelled as incapable when really they are just ignorant. The role of the school is to give them the knowledge that will make them capable, not to pander to their interests, and leave them just where they are: easy prey for manipulation.

The Importance of School Culture

When I was a newly qualified teacher, I worked in a large, chaotic comprehensive, whose head was good at wangling money for new buildings, but apparently uninterested in creating any sort of discipline structure, so that those shiny new buildings wouldn’t have their carpets plastered with chewing gum shortly after completion. Teachers would cower in the staff room during breaks, reluctant to police the riotous corridors and playgrounds. It was a horrible place.

It won’t surprise you to hear that as a new teacher in such a school, I had a lot of trouble keeping my year ten class under control. My only previous experience of teaching had been at a school with a proper discipline structure, backed up by daily detentions which were centrally managed and manned. Here, I was pretty much on my own, faced with rowdy teenagers, including a significant minority who would deliberately interrupt me when I was trying to teach the class. When I remember those year tens, I feel very sorry for the quiet ones, who just wanted to get on with their work, but were frequently prevented from doing so.

And this wasn’t a tough, inner-city school. It was situated in quite a pleasant suburban area, where property was rather expensive. My year ten class wasn’t a bottom set, either. It was a middle set. In every way, I was experiencing something very average and normal for an English secondary school.

I was pleased when the time came round for year ten to do work experience. It was going to be a relief not to have to attempt to teach them for a little while. But I was rather apprehensive about having to go and visit them on their placements.

I needn’t have been. They were quietly getting on with their duties in every workplace I visited. Not a scrap of insolence or unpleasantness of any sort could I find.

They had been taken out of the secondary school culture, where defiance and rudeness are applauded, and placed in the adult world, where such things are frowned upon. And they wanted to fit in. They didn’t want to be looked down on as a snotty teenager. So they didn’t act like snotty teenagers.

It has been the same wherever I have visited teenagers on work experience placements. From the agony and drama of conflict in the classroom, they move quickly and easily into the calm, ordered world of adult work. The power of a surrounding culture is enormous.

It makes me angry that school leaders do not see that the teenagers who are ruining lessons in their school are perfectly capable of behaving politely and respectfully, if that is the prevailing culture they experience. Most people just want to fit in. Schools like Michaela show that it is possible to create a culture where respect is the norm, with the right leadership and the right structures.

There is nothing inevitable about the poor behaviour of young people. There is no excuse for the way so many young people’s education is severely damaged by disruption. It is not the result of their ‘teenage hormones’. It is the result of a permissive culture which idolises self-expression. School leaders must have the courage to challenge this culture, and learn from the example of those who have built a different one.

Further reading:

Discipline Must Be School-Wide

Freedom Requires Discipline

Adolescents Are Not Animals