Monday 12 March 2018

Education

There was an interesting article in last Saturday's Times, by Clare Foges, an author and former Downing Street speechwriter, about faith schools and homeschooling. Her thesis - and I probably do her a disservice with this prĂ©cis - is that faith schools promote division and 'other-ness' at a time when we should be prioritising inclusion and coherence.

I didn't go to a faith school, as such. Admittedly, when my school was founded in 1525, faith was taken as read, and when I was there, we had a religious assembly every day, just as we had done at prep school. I suppose if I had been virulently anti-Christian, they would have excused me, but I am at heart a conformist, so I went along with it. But in those days, our most illustrious old boy was the Jewish Lord Chief Justice, Lord Taylor of Gosforth, so there was no whiff of the evangelical.

Anyway, the article set me thinking. I am, perhaps, more acutely attuned to the advantages or disadvantages of faith schools, as my parents are Glaswegian - my mother, as a child, was forbidden from playing with some of the other girls on the strength of the colour of their blazers - and my ex was from Northern Ireland, though she'd been at a cross-denominational school. It means, I suppose, that I know the territory. My prep school was not openly faith-based, but the headmaster was a firm Christian, and we sang hymns every morning; Friday was quirky because it was 'request day' - we could call out numbers from the hymnal and the music teacher would bang them out, somewhat inexpertly, on the piano.

The question is, therefore, are they a good thing or not? The results suggest they are. As far as I am aware, all the research indicates that faith schools produce better examination results than comparable non-denominational state schools. Certainly, in the North East, where I grew up, the highest-performing non-independent schools topped the league tables, and even some of the private schools were church-orientated. Why should that be? Is it because the attract the best and brightest teachers, pay better wages, have a better curriculum? Or is it because they can be selective about the pupils they select? I tend towards the latter view, though I think one can fuel the others.

But all of it brings you - or me, anyway - to a wider question. What are schools for? Are they merely exam factories, designed to crank out the best possible results from their consumers? Or is there a wider societal function, to prepare young people to be members of the kind of society want to have? Foges pretty clearly thinks the latter, and thinks that faith schools are an impediment to it.

I'm in two minds. I know that faith schools can sow division. When they were growing up in 1950s suburban Glasgow, my parents had virtually no Catholic friends. The power of the Orange Order was still strong, and sectarianism was rife. When I was growing up in 1980s Sunderland, I had no idea of - nor interest in - the confessional background of my friends. You could tell Sikhs, of course, by the turbans, but I vividly recall my oldest friend telling me he'd been confirmed a few years earlier, and I asked "As what?", knowing his mother was French and therefore probably Catholic. A look of doubt crept over his face and he said "I'm not really sure".

And yet, I'm a great believer in freedom. If parents want their children to be raised and educated in a specific confessional atmosphere, then so be it. If that leads to greater academic success and performance, more power to their elbow. I cannot see that it is the business of the state to say that children will not be taught in a religious context. (I have always found it deeply ironic that the United States, which enshrined separation of church and state in its constitution, has one of the most faith-based polities in the world.)

So I am conflicted. I see the dangers of children only associating within their own community. But I can't tell parents they should not do so. It's a little like single-sex schools (both of my schools were boys-only). The evidence suggests, as far as I know, that  girls flourish in a girls-only environment. However, you can't have girls-only schools without also having boys-only institutions. What did it do for me? In academic terms, it was probably the right thing - there was no embarrassment or, God forgive, flirting in classes. But it left me wary of girls until I went to university, and probably to this day, at the age of 40.

I was lucky at sixth form. We were an all-boys school, but there was an all-girls school literally across the road. We co-operated on drama and music, and many of the braver boys (not me!) socialised with the girls. Some of the girls joined us for extra-curricular lessons; what was then called PSE, but I don't know what they call it now. So there was contact. We were separate but connected. And I think that was the ideal. If only faith schools could make similar arrangements.

I offer no conclusions. This is merely a spark for discussion. I know people who hold very firm views in both directions; I, though I can be very judgemental at times, find it harder to be definitive. Cohesion vs freedom. The good of society vs personal choice. I just don't know.

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