A truly British McEducation

I was recently surveying the latest rubrics in The Times’ appointments section and noted two public schools seeking what are effectively business development directors for their schools’ international expansion.  I guess I hadn’t realised that what had started as a trickle of ad hoc satellite schools in Thailand and China was quickly becoming a deluge in the Middle East and further afield.

Brighton College and Wellington College are two of the schools which have recently announced mass roll-outs of franchised operations.  Brighton College plans to open two schools in Abu Dhabi in 2011 and 2013, with others to follow in Oman, Jordan, Romania, Vietnam and India.  Wellington College has plans to open approximately 15 schools, beginning in China in 2011 and following with Malaysia, Qatar, Bahrain and India.  This is not a new phenomenon: Dulwich and Harrow have had franchises in China and Thailand for about a decade, while other public schools have created the odd satellite; Repton Dubai, Oxford High GDST in China, Haileybury-Almaty, Shrewsbury Bangkok and Bromsgrove Bangkok come immediately to mind.  Brighton and Wellington are fairly unique, however, in the scale of their planned operations.  Both are motivated by the franchise fees which will be used to fund bursary places and capital projects in the UK.

The franchising of a marketable British brand (or at least until A Levels are thoroughly discredited through grade inflation and curriculum dilution) outside the UK seems very sensible to me in light of the pressures imposed by the Charities Commission on independent charitable schools to provide “public benefit”.  After all, as I discussed in The public benefit that will cut out the middle classes, the absurd result of the Charities Commission’s guidance is that schools will feel compelled to offer more bursaries — bursaries which many do not have the endowments to fund.   The result?  Increasing fees for non-bursary pupils.  Taken to its absurd conclusion, this would result in most charitable schools having a polarised population of very poor and very rich pupils.  So taking cash from franchised operations to fund these places in the UK and hence preserving a broad economic spectrum of pupils seems eminently sensible.

The repatriation of profits to Britain may be morally questionable to some.  Soft imperialism has been a term that has been bandied about.  Frankly, I’m not too worried about that; the premise for the success of these franchises is that there is a stratum of the local foreign market which has the means to pay for a private British education and is more than willing to pay for it. Moreover, I have no doubt that the local population will soon wise up to the fact that they can replicate the British model on their own and squeeze the franchises out once the local market becomes better established.  This may be precipitated by the profit motive in the local market or perhaps by nationalist sentiment when locals realise that profits from the satellite schools are funding kids back in Britain rather than kids in New Delhi, Bangkok or Abu Dhabi.  I have no doubt that the consumers in these far-flung locations have the wealth and know-how to look out for themselves.  Many probably have incomes far in excess of the average parent of a public school child in England.  

This is precisely why I think the British public schools engaging in franchising or thinking about it should do so with caution.  With the exception of perhaps Harrow, very few of the public schools which are establishing satellites are household names abroad.  As much as many of the franchising schools like to think of themselves as major public schools (and let’s face it, most of them are not in this league), the cachet and hence pulling power of most public schools is not so great that they couldn’t be supplanted by generic locally-established British-modelled schools.  And when it sinks in that consumers are not really getting a Harrow, Dulwich, Repton or Wellington education but rather a knock-off co-branded education, the momentum for local home-grown competitors to the British satellite schools will grow considerably and threaten the viability of the satellite school model.

Franchising offers an opportunity to certain public schools to ensure that they can meet the public benefit requirement that the Charities Commission has imposed without increasing fees and alienating the middle classes.  If they want to take advantage of this they should do so quickly because it won’t take long for satellite school consumers to develop the expertise to establish their own home-grown schools which can give them as much, if not more, than any of our satellite schools can offer.  When that happens, the franchisor schools will find their franchise fees dry up and perhaps, if they’re unlucky, they’ll even find they’ve received little return on their investment. and perhaps seen their most valuable asset — their name and reputation — highly devalued. At that point, selling a birthright for a mess of potage comes to mind, and that cannot be a good thing for any school.

The primary curriculum report: Sir Jim Rose has goofed this time

 In January, I reported my views on Sir Jim Rose’s interim report on the primary curriculum in The 3Rs…or chocolate? The Rose Report says you can have your cake and eat it too!  I defended Sir Jim then, particularly against accusations that he was planning to get rid of subjects in favour of silly themes such as “chocolate” which might have touched on science, history, geography and even modern languages. Sir Jim this week tabled his final report. In it, he set out the tripartite core of the new primary curriculum: literacy, numeracy and [drumroll]….ICT.  Wait!  Are you sure you got that right, Snowdon?  Did you read that correctly? Surely other subjects would come far ahead of ICT — science perhaps, or  modern languages or geography or history?

Sir Jim couldn’t be clearer. ICT has pride of place alongside literacy and numeracy as “foundational knowledge, skills and understanding of the primary curriculum”. No one will dispute the importance of English language skills and mathematical acumen at a time when even relatively few university graduates seem to possess the knowledge and skills necessary to write a coherent business letter or perform simple computations such as the percentage change between two numbers.  The prominence of ICT as a pillar of primary education, however, can only mean less time spent on literacy and numeracy and less time exposing children to subjects which they might not otherwise encounter and which benefit greatly from good teaching.  According to the International Association for the Evaluation of Educational Achievement’s Trends in International Mathematics and Science Study in 2007, 95% of Year 5 children in England had a computer at home and 86% had internet access at home.  My guess is that most of these kids have the means and interest in computers to figure this stuff out outside of the classroom.  My further guess is that they know more about ICT than Sir Jim himself.  But science? French? Latin? History? Geography?  I bet very few of  the same children have the inclination and the means to learn these other subjects in the same way on their own.  I’ll put money on even fewer developing a lifelong interest in these subjects without a great teacher to spark the initial excitement.

I defended you in January, Sir Jim, but this time you’ve really goofed.

Coming to a school near you…ContactPoint, the national kiddie database

This week’s backpedalling by the government on the communications superdatabase came as a relief.  But Snowdon won’t be celebrating.  Information on every phone call, email and website visit will still be stored — just separately, rather than together (as the superdatabase would have done.)  Moreover, the national ID card database is still moving forward and, significantly for the readers of Snowdon on Schools, ContactPoint, the national children’s database collating information from the NHS, social workers, the police, schools and other agencies, is still chugging along.

ContactPoint was rooted in the recommendations made by Lord Laming in his 2003 report following the Victoria Climbie inquiry.  That report pointed to the necessity of a national information system given that many children access services in different local authority areas or move between areas.  That recommendation led to the adoption in 2007 of the Information Database (England) Regulations which gave birth formally to ContactPoint.  This all sounds very laudable, but as unfortunate as the cases of Victoria Climbie and more recently Baby P, were, the privacy and security risks to every child under the age of 18 (and some over the age of 18) just do not justify the possible benefits that ContactPoint was intended to bring. 

The centralisation of so much information is bound to cause discomfort to anyone who has even a GCSE knowledge of the goings-on in Germany circa 1939.

But it’s not just the centralisation of information that is frightening, it is also the number of people who have access to that information.  It has been estimated that approximately 330,000-480,000 individuals could legitimately access the ContactPoint database of the country’s 11 million under-18 year olds (plus a few over that age).  Those who can access ContactPoint  include NHS personnel, the police, social workers, school principals, deputy heads, heads of years at schools, and teachers with pastoral duties — in other words, an already potentially large set of  busybodies or persons with malicious intent who happen to wear the necessary badge.  It also includes several others such as “voluntary groups” and “administrators” at schools.  What are “administrators”? Can any nosy parker who happens to be an employee at a school call himself an “administrator” and gain access to children’s files? There is something chilling about the ill-circumscribed list of those having access and its very size, even where “security vetting” (whatever that is) has been promised. 

User names, passwords, security tokens and PINs (the hallmarks of ContactPoint security) are common in most workplaces —- but are often abused through sharing and disclosure. I have worked in several businesses where secrecy should have been the norm, but where confidential documents sat on scanners for any and all to see or in recycling boxes or rubbish bins (rather than being shredded) or where sensitive phone calls were conducted in airport lounges or on trains for anyone to overhear.  And the fact that ContactPoint will log all those who access files is meaningless if no one regularly checks every child’s access log to see who has been accessing the information without a justifiable reason.   It is human nature to be sloppy with processes; witness the MI6 agent who kept unencrypted top secret information on a USB stick which was subsequently stolen or Scotland Yard Assistant Commissioner Bob Quick’s appearance with a document stamped “top secret” under his arm for all to read when a photo was subsequently published on the web.  Remember also our child benefit details which are also circulating somewhere thanks to an inability to follow procedures somewhere along the line as well.

The fact that the information on ContactPoint may be downloaded remotely is also alarming.  The government assures us that users cannot download child data onto a desktop or removable media (such as a memory stick).  This is not terribly convincing.  Again, I have worked in environments with significant security concerns which have purported to have similar restrictions in place; I have found them to be susceptible to circumvention.  Moreover, it matters little how information is disseminated, whether on a memory stick, a photo from a camera-equipped mobile, or through transcription or verbal transmission of information; the result is the same: a potential violation of a child’s privacy and the potential to put a child at risk.  With up to 480,000 persons having access to the database, we have to assume that there are a few who might themselves pose threats to children. On this basis, I have visions of  people remotely accessing ContactPoint from home,  joined by their paedophile network in the same room or via computer link and no one to potentially report suspicions. On a less salacious level, I still abhor the idea of a gaggle of teachers sitting around the common room taking in the fact that little Johnny’s primary physician is a psychiatrist  while one of teenager Mary’s doctors is an obstetrician who is well-known to specialise in teenage pregnancies.  No nosy parker needs case notes to draw a few conclusions worthy of spreadable gossip.  If the full implementation of ContactPoint goes ahead, parents should make regular requests for information under the data protection laws to monitor exactly what is held on their children and, by extension, on them.

Finally, although the database is ostensibly for the protection of children, it is disturbing that children’s details will not be erased when they turn 18 (or 25 for those who stay on until then.)  The government hasn’t even pretended that the files will be erased when a child reaches adulthood.  The regulation is clear: they are “archived”.

Address Arbitrage and Schools Admissions

On a recent Saturday out with NCT friends and associated toddlers, conversation turned to schools again.  Our kids are all now two years old, so of course the question of where they will go for reception in two and a half years’ time is all the more urgent than it was when we first started talking about this subject two years ago.  After all, with two and a half years to go, most lists at local preps are already closed.  Even Hill House, Prince Charles’ alma mater (aka the mustard uniformed school in Chelsea) which boasts that its list doesn’t close until your child is about two years old, is no longer an option at this point.  And if a house move is to be orchestrated to get into a good state school catchment area, it must be done in most cases so that you are physically living (for real) at the new, catchment-friendly address by October of the year prior to entrance.  So the real urgency is apparent: there is a year and a half to find a new house if a good state school is the goal.

All of this sounds so calculated.  It is even more so if you consider the plot that we discussed on that Saturday afternoon on the local common. Four of us were sipping our lattes.  One is sending her daughter to the Welsh School so has avoided both catchment areas and big price tags altogether. Another lives in an enviable catchment area.  The third one has no decent non-denominational state school so was pondering a house move.  Rather than moving, it was mooted, why didn’t she look to rent out her home in Stockwell and rent a maisonette in the enviable catchment area for a year or so — just long enough to gain admission — and then move back into her house in Stockwell?  To some (including the relevant mother) it smacked of playing the system.  But was it?  If  you conform to the letter of the code, does its spirit really matter?  Well, probably.  But if we’re going to deal with that question, then we must deal at the same time with the question of state-funded (ie funded by us) denominational schools at the same time.  In the case of my Stockwell friend (and in my own case), there are good denominational schools which we support through our taxes…and yet for which our own children are ineligible.  So until that injustice is rectified, I’m all for my Stockwell friend renting out her house in Stockwell, and legitimately taking up a place at the locally sought-after school based on her new residence nearby.  I may in fact move in next door to her on the same basis.

And lest any of us thought this to be a covert action of the middle classes trying to undermine the system: John Burton, the chairman of the governors of a state primary, St. Peter’s Eaton Square, was recently reported to have admitted renting out his family home in Kennington to take up rented accommodation within the catchment area first of St. Peter’s Eaton Square and later Lady Margaret School in Fulham — both highly sought after schools.  The office of the schools secretary, Ed Balls, has reportedly confirmed that this governor operated within the scope of the schools admissions code.  With Ed Balls’ blessing, I think more of us should have the balls to follow Mr Burton’s example.

Shame on the Girls’ Day School Trust

On 29 October in Credit crunch: When they can’t afford the school fees any longer, I addressed the issue of children being withdrawn mid-year from their fee-paying schools due to the credit crunch.  Canvassing the press, I see that in the past three months, this precise subject has become a rather hot topic for the media and a rather pressing issue for more and more families.  The credit crunch has adversely affected all of us in some way or another, and not everyone finds themselves in a crunch because of negligence of the type witnessed by the banks of Wall Street and Canary Wharf.  Some people are just experiencing tough luck — flotsam in the bigger, choppier seas of the current economy.   The ensuing sharp practice of some mortgage lenders when dealing with mortgagees facing challenges as a result of these difficult times has been highlighted by the press and chastised by political and community leaders.  But sharp practice by school bursars?

The very institutions which are entrusted with the education of future citizens and leaders in a full array of subjects, including moral education and citizenship, should be leading the way in helping parents in financial difficulty to find a way to keep their children in school while allowing them to rearrange their finances.  Goodness knows, many schools are doing just this: fee arrangements are being agreed and bursaries are being granted by many schools to allow children in critical phases such as GCSEs and A levels to complete those courses or others to finish off their school year so as to minimise disruption to their lives.  This is all very laudable.  So what kind of example could the Girls’ Day School Trust (which owns several dozen schools in the UK and is estimated to educate ten percent of all privately educated girls in this country) have possibly been trying to set in terms of moral education and citizenship when it allegedly* rudely excluded a Year 7 Streatham and Clapham High School pupil mid-way through morning classes in front of all of the pupil’s classmates?  The pupil was allegedly* escorted to reception where she was allegedly* left unattended for several hours until her mother could be contacted to collect her.  The girl’s only crime was that her school fees were allegedly* £5,100 (the equivalent of less than two terms) in arrears. She was humiliated in a way that a Texan or Californian court would probably be happy to award damages for.

The girl’s family had been particularly hard hit by the credit crunch: the unexpected arrival of a new baby and the demise of a business whose client base was heavily weighted with estate agencies coupled with an ex-husband with court-ordered responsibility for school fees and child support who had not been able to meet those obligations had all meant arrears of school fees had accumulated.  The mother offered to assume the fees going forward to see her daughter through the year but was unable to assume the arrears incurred by her ex-husband.  This was, apparently, unacceptable to the school.  The mother had anticipated that the cash flows would not be available going forward on a long term basis and had secured a place for her daughter at a local secondary school for September but no one could take her before.  It would have been easy for the school to allow the mother to assume the fees for the remaining two terms and to pursue the father for the arrears separately. The girl would have been spared the humiliation she suffered and the trauma of being left without a school mid-year.  One also has to wonder whether the school can, in this economy, fill the girl’s place mid-year. If not, what is the opportunity cost of allowing the girl to continue at the school….especially if her mother could borrow the money to keep her in school until the end of the year?

Schools may be businesses, but they are also human businesses which touch on human dignity in a similar vein to hospitals.  In my mind, they have a greater duty to their clients than businesses in less “human” industries.  Moreover those schools that are charities (as the Girls’ Day School Trust is) arguably have an ever greater duty as a charity.  The GDST’s alleged* treatment of its pupil on the first day back at school in January was the antithesis of all things charitable.

___

* I know the girl in question and heard her account firsthand but feel compelled, given the increasing litigiousness of fee-paying schools, to caveat this posting appropriately.

The 3Rs…or chocolate? The Rose Report says you can have your cake and eat it too!

I haven’t posted in a while. Christmas in Canada followed by weekly trips since then to Abu Dhabi (from where I post this today) are offered as excuses.  I was going to write something about the state of primary education in Abu Dhabi, but thought I’d share my thoughts with you on the latest government report on primary education instead. 

Last month, Sir Jim Rose, the former Ofsted chief inspector, tabled his interim report on the primary curriculum.  I honestly didn’t read the report because, frankly, I’ve been jaded by educational officialdom which usually has a lot to do with jobsworthing and political point-scoring and rather little to do with education.  Working groups, papers, policies, and strategies (God, I hate that last one more than anything) with titles such as Every Child Matters, the Children’s Plan, Time to Talk, EYFS, the National Literacy Strategy and the National Numeracy Strategy  rather bore me with their vapidness.  There is almost never anything cutting edge about them.  If there were, they’d be research papers in peer-reviewed journals, not dust collectors on civil servant desks.  However, sitting at a dinner party in Ottawa over Christmas, something happened which compelled me to download the full Rose Report.  And read it.

My host, a retired senior Canadian diplomat, mentioned that he had read in the Economist that we in England were no longer going to teach proper subjects in primary school, but rather topics or themes as had been done in the 1960’s, 70’s and 80’s (ie until the last report on the curriculum by Rose and two others, known as the “Three Wise Men”, advocated a shift to individual subjects in their 1992 report.)  He was appalled.  So were the other guests. What kind of educational backwater was I living in, they wondered. (I didn’t want to dig my adopted country further into the ground by telling them we’d only officially returned to phonics teaching two years earlier.)

I had seen some of the attention-grabbing headlines when the Rose Report was released on December 8^th.  The Telegraph shouted “History and geography lessons in primary schools should be scrapped, says report” while Melanie Philips at the Daily Mail condemned the report’s return to topics.  The Times did likewise, saying that topics such as “chocolate” would purport to replace maths, English, science and goodness knows what other of the currently prescribed 14 topics of the primary curriculum.  The chocolate analogy was all over the radio talk shows.  I hadn’t read the Economist article cited by my host so pulled it up.  Lo and behold, it had interpreted the Rose Report in the same way but seemed to applaud the report’s embrace of topics again.

But guess what?  I have now read the report and can only conclude that the reporters for the attention-grabbing headlined articles did not read it because Sir Jim does not advocate doing away with history and geography in favour of chocolate.  I actually think his report makes a lot of sense.  It advocates paring down the prescriptiveness of the current 14 topics to six areas which quite sensibly include all the necessary basics: English, communications and languages; art and design; maths; science and technology; human society and environment; and physical education and wellbeing.  My reading of the report is that individual subjects are to be taught, with cross-curricular comparisons made where possible. This covers the basics while still allowing passionate teachers to go beyond and to make linkages with other subjects. I still remember the sense of excitement I felt when studying the Tudors in history and simultaneously with another teacher studying contemporaneous Shakespeare in English or when seeing the overlap between physics and chemistry when studying them separately.  Studying Latin a year after studying ancient history also connected some dots for me.  Struggling with the concept of significant figures in physics one year made one topic less for me to grapple with in chemistry and maths.  Field trips to the Plains of Abraham in Quebec City at once brought together the geography of Canada I’d learned in Grades 4 through 6 and the history of Canada I’d also been taught.  Geography and history are often, as Sir Jim points out in his addendum following the misinterpration of his report, intimately connected.  In my mind, this balance of subject teaching with cross-curricular connections made where apposite is what an education is all about.

The problem with Sir Jim’s report lies not with the balance he strikes, which is, I think, the right one. Rather, it is with the implementation, and I’m not sure a report alone can do much to improve that. An abundance of interested, intelligent and inspiring teachers could, without further prescription, take care of this.  More of these are what we need more of in our primary schools, not government reports.

The public benefit that will cut out the middle classes

Two weeks ago, I got into a heated argument at the Balham Bowling Club, a trendy little bar in Balham. A barroom brawl, you ask? Or a case of twenty something IT or PR girls cat fighting for the local twenty something hunk? Not quite. The occasion was a friend’s 40^th birthday party and the subject of discussion was the public benefit provided by fee-charging charitable schools.

I’d met A earlier in the evening and had had a delightful conversation about schools with her. When B, her equally delightful husband, joined in, he mentioned that his oldest child was attending a school of the original Dulwich Estate. He was bemoaning the level of fees and the prospect of even higher fees so that the school could offer bursaries to others. But B felt that he should not have to pay more than the cost of his own child’s education. Frankly, I could sympathise, but I found myself spouting off about public benefit and the fact that these endowed schools had benefited from decades and even centuries from their charitable status and therefore could not squirrel out of their public benefit obligations under the (relatively new) Charities Act 2006.

All of this raises tough issues for middle class parents who want to send their children to charitable independent schools. Under the 2006 Charities Act, charities which operate schools need to affirmatively demonstrate that they provide a public benefit. This used to be presumed under the old law. Now, the onus is on them. Last week, the Charities Commission, which regulates charities in England and Wales, issued guidance on what constitutes a public benefit and how this obligation can be discharged. Reading between the lines of that guidance, it seemed pretty clear to me that the easiest way to discharge the public benefit obligation is through the provision of bursaries and the sharing of resources (such as teacher time) or the sponsorship of academies —- all of which involve incremental costs to the charities which must, in the case of unendowed charitable schools, find the money elsewhere.

The problem is that with the exception of a small handful of charities operating independent schools (such as Christ’s Hospital, Whitgift Foundation, Eton, the Dulwich Estate and Winchester), most charitable schools do not have any significant endowment which allows them to allocate investment income to bursaries and other sure-fire ways of meeting the new public benefit requirement. For those schools, the trustees are under pressure to ensure that they fulfil the requirements of the new Act, and in the absence of a prescribed path by the Charities Commission, many will feel the need to take what seems to be the most obvious way of fulfilling that requirement: bursaries. The catch-22, however, is that the money for the bursaries has to come from somewhere and in the absence of endowments, that means full-fee paying parents.

So what are parents to do? Well, they can choose to send their children to a non-charity independent school. Many of these are propriety commercial operations with a profit motive, so while parents may not be contributing to the fees to send the kid from the neighbouring council estate to their child’s prep, the profit motive may mean that they are paying a similar amount to line the pockets of the proprietor of the school. Of course, they can also choose to send their child to a non-charity independent school which is not-for-profit (like the schools of the New Model School Company) and rest assured that they are spending their hard-earned money on their own child and no one else’s.

The reality, however, is that most of this country’s independent schools are charities. Of the almost 1,300 schools which make up the Independent Schools Council, over a 1,000 are charities. And very few are endowed. All of these charities will have to comply with last week’s Charities Commission guidance. The effect, however, is that middle class parents sending their children to unendowed charitable schools will be priced out of those schools by increased fees to subsidised lower income families. It arguably won’t take long for those schools to become polarised with children of the upper classes and lower classes, with the middle classes noticeably absent. This clearly cannot be the right result.

Eton for less

Ever on the lookout for a good deal, I thought I’d bring yet another one to your collective attention. My main concern has hitherto always been the affordability of independent education for the middle classes with children who don’t quite make it over the scholarship hurdle because, let’s face it, most kids aren’t going to win scholarships. But let’s humour ourselves today and just take a minute to look at some of the opportunities for high ability kids at state schools to gain entry to one of the most elite bastions of this country: Eton College.

Eton now costs over £28,000 per year, and that’s just for tuition and boarding. Count on an extra thousand or so for the extras: music lessons, tuck, uniform, etc. Princes William and Harry attended, as has many pages’ worth of entries in Burke’s Peerage. The school’s name is synonymous with all things elite.

It was reported this week that Eton is aspiring (like some other schools who have also come under heavy fire from the Charities Commission, I should add) to make needs blind admissions within ten years’ time. To fund this, it is raising funds for an endowment to ensure that any boy who gains admission will not be turned away because of his family’s inability to pay. That’s nice for those of you with newborns, but those of you with children in state primary schools right now may want to take note of some pretty wonderful deals on offer from Eton (of course, in part courtesy of the generous tax advantages afforded to charities by the tax system which we all pay into.)

Beginning in September 2009, Eton will offer New Foundation Scholarships to state school boys in Year 8 who would not normally be able to attend Eton for financial reasons and who are not in a position (presumedly because of their situation and prior schooling) to prepare for Eton’s other scholarships, which require knowledge that they may not have had an opportunity to gain. The application deadline is in mid-December (ie now!) for the January test and entry in September 2009. Given that this is the first year this scholarship is offered, the word may not be out yet about it, so if your son has attended a state school for the past three years, it may be worthwhile taking a punt.

Eton began offering Junior Music Scholarships in 2001. Only one junior music scholarship is offered each year. To be eligible, a boy must be in Year 5 at a state school (and he must have been in the state sector for three years). The level of ability is usually high; Eton notes that Grade 5 music ability at age ten would be a benchmark. Successful candidates are sent to St George’s School, Windsor, as boarders for three years and are guaranteed a place at Eton thereafter. Eton pays for both and music lessons (unless the parents are able to contribute a portion.)

Finally, since 1972, Eton has offered several Junior Scholarships every year. These are awarded to boys in state schools (and have been for three years) who are of high academic promise who would benefit from the opportunity of attending Eton, and who would contribute to the life of the school. Snowdon has heard via the grapevine that there are not always a lot of applicants for these scholarships. Boys apply for these scholarships in Year 5; I believe the test is in January or February and you need to get your application in a few weeks in advance of this, so if your son is in Year 5 now, think about applying right now. If selected, a boy attends a prep school near his home or a boarding school (if no suitable prep is available) and then enters Eton in Year 9 (or F block, as it is called at Eton; there is a whole new lingo you’ll have to come to grips with if your son takes up a place there.) As with the Junior Music Scholarships, Eton will pick up the full tab of the prep and Eton where the parents are unable to make a contribution.

For more information, see: http://www.etoncollege.com/Scholarships.aspx

***************

On 1 November, I wrote in From London day school to …. boarding school? Are you outta your mind? about Christ’s Hospital School. In addition to the sliding scale fees at that school, children residing in the Borough of Reading, the ancient Borough of Newbury (including Thatcham and Hungerford) and the ancient Parish of Twickenham (some adjacent parishes may also be eligible) and girls who are the daughters of a parent employee (or past employee) of the City of London are eligible to apply for a further 50% reduction of whatever fee they are assessed to pay. This year’s deadline has passed, but definitely worth considering for those with children currently in Year 5 and who can apply in the first term of Year 6 in 2009.

For more information, see: http://www.christs-hospital.org.uk/allaboutmoney2007-08.pdf

An affordable private school alternative in London: the New Model School

Looking at the keywords people are using to hit my blog, I see that affordable education is at the fore of most of their minds. Not surprising given the number of parents who have taken their children out of independent schools already in response to the credit crunch and the anticipated exodus from those schools at the beginning of the next academic year once the credit crunch has had longer to make lives more miserable.  I’ve already discussed some affordable options earlier this month and last month, but today I have another for you.

You’re in luck if your child is high ability scholarship material (although full or even sizeable scholarships are few and far between), or you’re so poor as to qualify your child (of even average ability) for a full bursary at the local prep or public school.  You’re really lucky, though,  if you don’t have to worry about the price tag and can send your child to any school in the country.  The one group left out of all of this is that of middle class parents of non-scholarship level children. What options do they have?  GEMS and Cognita, the private companies I looked at on Sunday in Would you like fries with your education? professed to be focused on providing affordable no-frills schools targeted at just this group.  But as we discovered, many of those schools charge fees that rival those at the top of the fee bracket, and certainly none in London was anywhere near more affordable than the average fee-paying school that made no pretension of being affordable.

The New Model School Company may fill part of the gap in this market.  Created by social think tank, Civitas, it aims to provide another choice for parents who feel the state system is not providing the education that it should.  Its model is based on three premises: providing a top quality education, keeping fees as low as possible (fees in 2009 will be £5,250 per year, under half of the fees charged by most London day schools) while providing that top quality education, and establishing a model that can be replicated elsewhere.

The first New Model School, Maple Walk,  was established in Kensal Green, Northwest London in 2004.  Its facilities aren’t fancy: it is principally housed in a church hall, although new premises have been bought near Roundwood Park in Brent a few miles away.  The school will relocate in September 2009.  It had two pupils in 2004 and currently has almost 100; there are over 100 pupils registered for entry in each of 2010 and 2011.

I attended the launch in Docklands this week of the New Model School Company’s second school, Faraday School,  which will serve the Docklands, North Greenwich and the East London neighbourhoods.  (This school will be located on Trinity Buoy Wharf, next to the free ferry that goes to North Greenwich.)

Faraday School is expected to follow a curriculum very similar to that of Maple Walk: a strong emphasis on the basics (numeracy and literacy) with science, French, Latin (in the higher primary years), PE, PSHE, history, geography and the other usual suspects all included.  The head teacher at Maple Walk, Sarah Knollys, addressed parents at the Faraday launch. Some of the points which caught my attention were the use by the school of a phonics reading system (rather than whole language which disappointed a whole generation) and the teaching of history in a chronological order.  (It seems obvious, but you’d be surprised how many schools like to teach in “themes”, something that drives me bonkers and inevitably produces a cohort of kids who don’t know that the Pyramids preceded the Protestant Reformation.)  Specialist teachers are brought in where needed.  Despite the absence of fancy facilities, Maple Walk participates in what I would call many “rich” activities: song, dance and poetry reading competitions, yoga (as part of PE), and Latin.  Maple Walk’s head said she is open to any enriching experiences that are affordable.  One immediately thinks that English Speaking Union speech and debate or maths competitions could easily be integrated into the curriculum, for example.

We’ll have to see how the kids from Maple Walk stack up when they participate in standardised tests and/or apply to competitive secondary schools.  But on the surface, Maple Walk and Faraday seem to be two schools worth keeping tabs on.  And of course, if the New Model School opens a school in South London, I may be among the first to fill out a free registration form…

For more information on the New Model Schools, see http://www.newmodelschool.co.uk/

Would you like fries with your education?

When I see a characterful individual restaurant open another branch, I always despair.  Will it retain its character and quality? Will it expand and become a chain equivalent to Pizza Express or Wagamama — perfectly adequate but lacking that je ne sais quoi that the individual restaurant possessed?  I feel the same way about schools.  When we think of English independent schools, we naturally think of the Etons, Westminsters and Winchesters: individual schools with character and a sense of purpose owned by a charitable trust. Of course, some are owned by individuals who feel passionate about education in pursuing their profit motive. Think the Colonel at Hill House, Joanna and David Thomas at Thomas’s Day Schools, and Lady Houstoun-Boswall at the Harrodian and later Hampton Court House School.  But what many people don’t realise is that many independent schools (and even some supposedly posh ones) have in the past five years been bought or established from scratch by investors for the sole purpose of turning a profit for investors who may have very little of the passion that one expects of anyone involved in something as important as education. 

Friends recently expressed an interest in sending their son to the school attended by Princes William and Harry in Kensington.  Its sister school, Pembridge Hall, was the object of much brouhaha two years ago when its headmistress suggested women have Caesarean sections early in the month in order to be sure of getting one of the five places opened each month for children born that year.  People assume that with a clientele such as the princes and demand that requires rescheduling the birth of a child, these must be pretty unique schools. In fact, they are but revenue units of a chain of 13 schools and half a dozen crammers owned by Alpha Plus, which is now owned by Delancey, a property investment company. (Delancey bought Alpha Plus just under a year ago for a rumoured £100 million, some £74 million more than the £26 million paid five years earlier for the group by private equity firm, Sovereign Capital.  Sovereign Capital reported an IRR of  53% on its investment.)  And Southbank International School, attended by the children of many expats in the City, is but one in a chain of over 30 schools in this country plus others internationally.  That chain is owned by Cognita, which is backed by Englefield Capital.  The Hampshire School, with its Kensington address, is but one of dozens of schools in the UK and abroad owned by GEMS, which was founded by Dubai entrepreneur Sunny Varkey.  Alpha Plus, Cognita and GEMS emerged in the past few years, ostensibly to shake up the private school market and to offer value private education (read: literacy and numeracy and traditional schooling, but perhaps not the equivalent of a West End theatre for little Isabelle’s Year 2 play or an onsite swimming pool.)  A laudable idea, perhaps, given the significant percentage of parents who are disgruntled with falling standards in the state schools and  who say they would send their children to private schools if they could afford to do so.   But has the theory been put into practice? And is the corporatisation of our schools a price worth paying for a cut-rate education?

It is curious that Southbank International School and the Hampshire School do not post what they charge in tuition fees on their website.  I visited Southbank a few years ago and it was relatively expensive with respect to its peer group back then. I can’t imagine that Cognita has paid good money to acquire it only to lower fees.  In fact, I have heard parents I know with children there grumble about the increases there, and I know some who have pulled their children out as a result. So much for an affordable education there now that it’s under the Cognita umbrella.  And what about the Hampshire School? Well, we have no way of knowing what they charge because they don’t make this publicly available on their website. I should point out that it is the norm for schools to publish this information on their websites.  Are they withholding the information because its fees are perhaps not in line with Mr Varkey’s mantra that he’s trying to provide an “affordable education”? Wetherby School and Pembridge Hall, which are owned by Alpha Plus (which also owns the Davies Laing & Dick crammers), are at least up front and publish their fees.  But they charge £4200 per term — more than the going rate for the average London prep.  Again, so much for economies of scale, passing on affordability, and shaking up the private sector. 

Let’s assume for the moment that there are some affordable schools in these groups (and I believe there are some), and let’s ignore the fact some of the schools really are quite expensive (so much so that they have to refrain from posting the fees on their websites).  Is corporate ownership desirable? How long will it be before the quirkiness, history and colour of the established schools brought under these corporate umbrellas is eroded by the economies of scale imperative on which the groups operate?  How can a newly established no-frills school ever hope to achieve character when pushed to provide a return acceptable to the private equity houses (in the case of Alpha Plus and Cognita) that own them?  The project has not been long in the making, and I’m afraid if we revisit this question in a few years’ time, we may find that the expensive corporatised schools have turned into a homogenised slush while the truly “affordable” private schools under those corporate umbrellas are so strongly driven by the profit imperative that they fail to develop any of the character.  In short, I fear we’ll end up with a bunch of McDonald’s restaurants and maybe a few Carluccios, but in they end, neither really has much individuality any more, does it?

Early immersion, SVP

I have been obsessed with languages for goodness knows how long.  A funny thing, really, when you consider that I only really speak two languages fluently as an adult.  I remember asking for a Berlitz teach yourself Spanish book for Christmas when I was eight and how thrilled I was to actually get it.  Over the years, I’ve been to German Saturday school, been through French immersion and studied Latin at school, peddled my bicycle up to the University of North London for evening classes in Dutch when I lived in West London, and hogged the teach yourself Breton tapes from the public library for months until they finally recalled the book on the basis that someone else in Ottawa wanted to borrow it (who’d have thought??). It is not unsurprising, therefore, that I have given a lot of thought as to how I can give my daughter the best chance of learning more languages than me. And better.

We considered the French system in London.  The lycée has several primary school branches in London in addition to the main branch in South Kensington which also houses the secondary school.  There are also several private French and bilingual (French/English) schools in London, most of them subsidised by the French state to varying degrees and therefore presenting rather more affordable options than English prep schools too.  If it weren’t so far away, we’d also consider the Colegio Espanol on Portobello Road. Another bargain, by the way, at under £1,000 per term.  (The German, Dutch, Swedish and Norwegian schools, all south of the Thames, are rather less affordable, plus I have a little less personal interest in these languages.)  Despite the fact that plopping your child into a school where all the others speak another language is undoubtedly the best way for them to learn a language, there are two factors that make any of these expatriate schools slightly less than perfect: their revolving door nature (expats come and go as parental tours of duty in London start and terminate) and the fact that most have an order of priority that puts non-nationals at the bottom of the pile (although I bet those that don’t receive subsidies from foreign states become a lot more welcoming of non-nationals with the credit crunch).  So where does that leave those of us who would like our children to acquire another language at an early age?

Well, as it happens, something wonderful is taking hold in the U.K. in this regard.  Forty-some years after the introduction of the first immersion programmes in St. Lambert, Quebec (English pupils were immersed in French with a French teacher but with other English pupils), we’re seeing the beginning of a trend here in the U.K.  Immersion in a non-heritage language.  Wales has had Welsh-medium state schools for years (and there is in fact also a private Welsh-medium school in Willesden, North London) while there have been Gaelic-medium state schools in Scotland for several years.  But what we have not had until recently are immersion programmes in non-heritage languages such as French or Spanish or Chinese or any other language which is not the language spoken at home. 

Research has shown that pupils develop a much higher level of proficiency in their immersion language than occurs when this language is simply taught as a school subject as it is in English schools (or at least where languages are still taught at all.) The research also shows that their attainment in English and other school subjects such as mathematics, science, history, geography, etc. does not suffer compared to their peers who are not in immersion programmes, although immersion pupils tend to be behind their mainstream peers initially in English. However, when English is introduced a few years later (usually in the equivalent of Year 4), immersion pupils quickly make up for lost time and often surpass their non-immersion peers with respect to English reading and writing. Early immersion, rather than immersion beginning in Year 5 or in high school, and total rather than partial immersion, have tended to produce the best results. 

Walker Road Primary in Aberdeen started the immersion experiment in 2000.  The first cohort has now moved on to secondary school.  What made the experiment in Aberdeen all the more interesting for me is the fact that immersion was attempted in a school whose catchment is decidedly more deprived than the average.  (In the early days of immersion in Canada, allegations were regularly thrown around that immersion was a tool used by the middle classes to segregate the middle classes from those below on the socioeconomic or even ability ladder.) Wix’s School in Wandsworth opened as the first bilingual school in September 2006.  It was the product of the relationship of the head of the English-language Wix’s School (a pretty much bottom-of-the-league-tables school) and his counterpart at the French lycée primary occupying the same building.  The bilingual stream was so oversubscribed that there is another in the early planning stages at Hotham School in Putney (also in the same LEA as Wix), and even Wix is considering expanding its bilingual stream.  These schools draw on local, rather than expat, pupils so you have none of the revolving door of an expat school.  And non-French nationals have a hope in Hell of getting in.  And when they do, it’s free.  Now if I can only get one of the local subperforming primaries near me to follow in their suit, I might actually be interested in sending my daughter there.

School à la carte

My daughter has another two years before she applies for a place at an LEA-run school or is assessed for a fee-paying school.  There are other possibilities too, including foreign government schools in London and alternative (but relatively cheap) fee-paying schools. And, of course, there’s home schooling. The more I look at the stress of the independent schools admission process and the fees (count on £11,000 per year for prep and probably more at the secondary level) and the more I despair at the small catchment areas (read: my house is beyond it) for the few decent state schools nearby and the wouldn’t-touch-them-with-a-bargepole primaries that are within my catchment area, the more I begin to think about home schooling and about what I call school à la carte.  

On 5 November, I talked about the trend towards afterschooling in The afterschooling imperative. Home schooling, or home education, goes a bit further: it leaves out the formal school altogether.  The motivations of home schoolers are many. You get all types — from nutbars to middle class people who just want a good solid education.  I would consider home schooling if it could adequately address a few needs: (1) exposure to the thoughts and views and areas of interest of people other than me (2) social interaction and the opportunity to form friendships (3) exposure to some elements of formal education (ie not everything gets done at the kitchen table) and (4) a little bit of time off of mother-cum-teacher (which would otherwise be a 24/7 job).  A school à la carte would address all of these concerns.  Parents could volunteer to teach modules to the children of others, or parents could club together to hire specialists (such as language teachers) to offer modules.  There would be a physical place where children would congregate and, critically, see familiar faces several times per week (rather than the once per week they might otherwise see another child at Brownies or football practice.)  Parents could still home school, but their children would be exposed to a whole plethora of interesting modules, many of which one might expect to go well beyond the confines of the National Curriculum.  (The unbridled ability to provide modules of any type are what would distinguish an à la carte school from “flexi-schooling”, a legal loophole which permits parents to combine home schooling with part-time attendance at a local school with the school head’s permission.  After all, if, like me, one of your big concerns is getting away from teaching to the all-too-many-standardised tests , why would you want your kid attending a school which will inevitably spend much of its time preparing for those very same tests?)

Topics which are in high demand can be scheduled after the normal school day in an à la carte school in order to pull in the afterschooling parents looking for that extra enrichment or remedial help.  I see no reason why the financial aspects can’t be viable, especially when one considers the availability of school space which heads are only too willing to rent out to buttress school budgets.

I am a traditionalist at heart, yet even I would be open to considering an à la carte education for my daughter.  Your thoughts are appreciated, but please post them quickly; I imagine that as soon as Mr Snowdon reads this post, it will be pulled…

Lest we forget…

Today is Remembrance Day. On this day, I do stop to think about the lives lost in the two World Wars, though with the passage of time and an increasingly critical eye, I do question what it is, exactly, that I’m remembering and what it is that my daughter (aged 20 months) will “remember” — especially as neither of us was around at the time, and with each generation, the nexus to those events becomes slightly more tenuous.  I’m no historian so am not really qualified to assess the merit of the sacrifice made by so many during the two World Wars.  I have no doubt that the “cause” furthered by these wars was not the great one we learned about in school; the recent interventions in Afghanistan and Iraq (and the absence of necessary intervention in many other places such as Darfur and Rwanda) have probably forced many of us, myself included, to re-examine with our 21^st century glasses the “facts” we were taught about the World Wars and the lead-ups to them.  I do find it difficult to tie the gargantuan loss of life to a veritable cause that isn’t in some way tainted by political games played almost a hundred years ago which were probably very similar to our modern day WMD/Saddam Hussein/Al Qaeda games.  So what is it, exactly, that we’re remembering?  After all, does any of us observe two minutes’ silence for Harold’s men at Hastings, the estimated 92,000 casualties of the Second Punic War, or the estimated 45,000 casualties at the Battle of Waterloo?

Well, I think what we’re remembering is our collective stupidity and reminding ourselves to avoid repeating the same mistakes or at the very least mistakes on the same scale as the two World Wars.  As I walked among row after row of white Commonwealth War Graves Commission headstones this weekend in Ypres, Passchendaele, Vimy, Mount Sorrel, Beaumont-Hamel, and other places too small to be dots on my Michelin map, I could not help being moved by the tremendous loss of life in muddy foreign fields.  This weekend’s grey, cold, rainy weather in Flanders and the pock-marked landscape at Vimy (still fenced in parts due to undetonated explosives left over from World War I) reinforced for me the horrendous conditions in which so many young people died. 

I was pleased to see so many young people from English schools visiting the war graves and memorials in Flanders and the Somme and demonstrating a respect that one does not typically see from that age group on London buses.  If I didn’t know better, I would say that the number of headstones (bearing ages not more than a few years older than many of them) had driven home a point that no GCSE or A Level reading could hope to achieve.  If more schools allocated resources to sending the younger generation to Flanders and the Somme (and spent less on “educational” school trips to Disneyland Paris, which seem to be the height of enrichment for GCSE geography and A Level business studies, among others), perhaps future generations will avoid repeating the mistakes of just under a hundred years ago.  And that is something worth remembering.

The afterschooling imperative

I learned a new word this week.  “Afterschooling” (noun), “afterschool” (verb; as in “I afterschool my kids”)  Afterschooling is consciously augmenting your child’s school-provided curriculum.  Afterschooling parents are hybrids: think homeschooler meets laissez faire parent.  Many of us were afterschooled and didn’t even know it; our parents probably didn’t know it either.   They took us to story hour at the local library and spent time helping us winnow down our pile to the ten books our membership card allowed us to check out.  They made bets with us at the dinner table that saw us scramble to pull out the oversized folio National Geographic Atlas of the World to prove to them that Timbuktu did exist (and where.)  They helped us stack up copper pennies, layering them with lemon juice-dipped cloth and then measuring the current that ran through our primitive pile.  It was all very ad hoc.  More formal afterschool activities were rather limited and tended to consist of the likes of Brownies and Beavers, ballet, karate/judo, piano or violin lessons.  Instead, we played in the street, founded detective agencies, and established publications such as The Neighbourhood News (circulation 30; paid circulation zero) which lasted several years before folding.

Afterschooling today is another matter and attacked with a rigour far removed from the ad hoc nature of our own childhood stimulation. It’s about private tutoring for SATs, the 11-plus (whether for grammar schools or schools in non-grammar districts with selective streams), Common Entrance, GCSEs and A Levels, and elocution and coaching for public school interviews. It’s about regular attendance at Kumon centres and French clubs and half term “camps” and Christmas and Easter revision courses at crammers.   What boggles my mind is that so much of this is not so much to provide remedial help to those who need it, but rather to ensure a child is able to remain comfortably in the right spot on the curve to ensure whatever academic success his parents aspire to for him.  And there’s a certain amount of keeping up with the Joneses in this too; parents of perfectly able children are signing up en masse to Kumon and/or seeking out established local tutors out of fear of being left behind.

All of this, of course, raises the question: If our state schools are good, why do so many of us feel compelled to shuttle our kids from tutor to Kumon to le Club Tricolore and back (stopping off at WHSmith to buy a few more standardised tests to practice at home)?  We know the answer: many of our state schools do not, in fact, meet the standards many of us would hope for them, but we still want our kids to succeed (or, at the very least, get into that public school we’ve been saving up for for all these years in the state primary). Ergo, many of us succumb to the drill we all know.  What amazes me, however, is the number of children at fee-paying schools who boomerang from the home of the private tutor, to Kumon, and back to yet another tutor.  Either this is an indictment of the education these fee-paying schools provide (and calls into question what, exactly, you are paying for) or it’s an indictment of our society where even the privileged feel obligated to take away the precious time our kids have to become local sleuths, establish newspapers with no paid circulation, and pursue other, equally pointless but somehow important pursuits.

O ye of little faith — what school for you?

I think we should end public funding of faith-based schools in England.  Or at least those who advance the usual arguments against fee-paying schools should acknowledge that there are many similar arguments for abolishing publicly-funded faith-based schools, and if we’re going to get self-righteous when chastising those who choose to send their children to fee-paying schools, then we need to realise that faith-based schools are not so very different and that parents choosing them have a rather lot in common with their fee-paying counterparts.

Most faith schools are either voluntary controlled (where all building expenses and running costs are paid for by taxpayers) or voluntary aided (where running costs are paid for by taxpayers and up to 90% of building costs are paid for by taxpayers).  In short, everyone, not just those of the faith who are allowed to attend the schools, pay for them.  We all pay, the churches call the shots, and a select faithful few get to attend.  Taxpayers pay the piper, but the clerics call the tune…

 It is also inappropriate for a school system paid for by taxpayers to play a role in espousing any one particular religion.  Religion is a personal matter and one for the family or place of worship, not for a state-funded vehicle designed to equip youngsters with the tools to think critically about the world.

Finally, faith-based schools are proxies for selectivity.  Recent studies, such as those by academics Rebecca Allen and Anne West this year and reports presented to Parliament several years ago, buttress the position that faith-based schools cream off the better elements; their intakes are often not reflective of the pool of children from the immediately surrounding area, and the percentage of children eligible for free school meals (ie poor kids) is less than in non-faith state schools.  Isn’t such selection what parents choosing fee-paying schools are criticised for playing into?

Where I grew up, educational segregation was constitutionally enshrined, and thus you either attended a Catholic school (where you had to be well-documented as such) or a Protestant school (for those whose papers weren’t in order, Protestants, Jews, Muslims and any others.)  It was weird and stupid, as is any faith-based segregation, but it was enshrined in the Canadian Constitution.  There is no such constitutional protection in England and therefore no reason why this archaic system should be protected the way it has been.

From London day school to…boarding school? Are you outta your mind??

Can’t afford fees at your London day school any longer? Well, have you thought about sending your child to boarding school? “What?”  You ask.  “Are you a complete moron, Snowdon? That’s like saying ‘Let them eat cake’ when they can’t afford bread!”  Hear me out, folks… Sometimes, solutions aren’t always intuitive.

The average London day school costs approximately £10,000 per year in fees with uniform, lunches, clubs and other add-ons often extra.  There are some examples where a boarding education could come in under this amount.  If you live in an LEA with good local schools, you may just want to explore those options (but then again, if that were the case, you probably would have sent your child to that good local school in the first place, wouldn’t you have?)  If, however, you don’t have that kind of good fortune, there are boarding options which will bring you in under the mark that you’re currently paying. Plus, as I mentioned in yesterday’s post on state boarding schools (which come in at around £10,000 per annum), there may be further hidden savings in that your child won’t be eating at home, making the water meter spin, or using toilet paper for that matter. 

Here are a few of the options I’ve come across over the years:

• Christ’s Hospital School in Horsham, West Sussex is an all-boarding school for 11-18 year olds. I’ve heard it said that it is among the richest schools in the country, which I guess it needs to be when you consider that most of its students are on some level of bursary; only 4% of parents pay the full fees. You may have seen them in their curious uniforms on television, and every year their band leads the Lord Mayor of London’s parade. It is now too late to apply for admission for Year 7 in September 2009, but if your child is currently in Year 5, you may want to consider thinking ahead about this gem of a school for Year 7 in September 2010. Those applying for admission to the Sixth Form have until Monday 3 November to get their applications in. Although the school does not advertise it, applications are considered for other years, but there is usually a waiting list. Fees are determined on a sliding scale, but as a guideline, a family with an income of £30,000 per year can expect to pay approximately £4,000 for a year’s tuition and boarding. It’s worth checking out: www.christs-hospital.org.uk/allaboutmoney2007-08.pdf
• Welbeck — The Defence Sixth Form College in Leicestershire is a sixth form boarding school for medically fit UK, Commonwealth (hmm…I should let my Canadian friends know) or Irish citizens. It really is for those who’d like to pursue a career in the Forces; I’m not really sure what happens if you change your mind mid-course. Since 2005, the school has been sited at a new, state-of-the-art campus in Leicestershire. Its focus on the sciences is not for those who are not strong in this area. As with Christ’s Hospital, parents make a contribution, but it’s on a sliding scale. Children from families with incomes under £17,000 per year get a free ride, while a family income of £100,000 will mean annual fees (tuition and boarding) of just over £6,000. For more information, including application deadlines, check out: www.welbeck.mod.uk
• United World Colleges are part of a global education movement founded in the 1950’s based on the ideas of Kurt Hahn, a German Jew who founded Salem, a school in Germany, and later, when the Nazis rose to power, Gordounston. He was also instrumental in the establishment of the Duke of Edinburgh Award scheme and the Outward Bound movement. The first United World College, Atlantic College in Wales, was founded in 1962. The United World Colleges are rooted in the philosophy that conflict and hostility can be overcome if young people of different races, nationalities and religions can be brought together to learn from each other. There are now 12 such colleges around the world and all offer the International Baccalaureate diploma programme. Admission is based on merit, and there is a generous scholarship programme which dishes out money on a combined basis of merit and need (bearing in mind that dummies don’t make it in in the first place.) Interested pupils must apply through the UK arm and are assigned to one of the 11 schools outside the UK or to Atlantic College. The deadline for applications is in February. I had friends who attended United World Colleges back in the 1980’s. They were very much the Guardian-reading, furry armpitted, Birkenstock-wearing, panpipe-music playing, Students-Against-Global-Nuclear-Extermination type (you get the idea…) that I didn’t have much in common with back then. I also did not think much of the IB back then. Now, however, I’m a big proponent of the IB (well, you don’t have much choice when faced with A-Level inflation) and, having lived in three countries and travelled even more extensively for business and pleasure, I regret not applying myself and forced my younger stepson to apply a few years ago. For a well-rounded, socially conscious, academically strong pupil, I highly recommend applying. Check it out: www.uwc.org.uk 
• The Duke of York’s Royal Military School in Dover provides an education for the children (11-18) of military personnel. Fees per year range from £1,650 for those with parents serving, to £3,900 per year for those whose parents leave the services during the child’s stay at the school, to £7,500 per year for those whose parents were no longer serving on entry. I actually don’t know much about this school and would welcome feedback from those with children there. Check it out: http://www.army.mod.uk/welfare-support/education/1161.aspx

 That’s it for today.  I’ve got a few more ideas up my sleeve which I’ll share with you in the coming days.

 

Where is the iconic orange and black UNICEF box this Hallowe’en?

Today is Hallowe’en and I’m going to use that as an excuse to digress a wee bit from our main topic of schools although I think I can argue that there is at least a nexus with education…

In the almost ten years I have lived in England, I have seen Hallowe’en go from a mild curiosity to the industry it became long ago in North America.  Tesco Extra stores have multiple aisles of costumes, pumpkins and candy to hand out to trick-or-treaters.  The tradition has completed its migration across the Atlantic.  As I prepare to watch my daughter, aged 20 months, decked out as a pumpkin tonight, it occurred to me that something is missing.  One part of the tradition has not been imported. And it’s the part that actually ties in with the usual educational subject matter of this blog. 

My Hallowe’en as a child in North America was associated with some key traditions: choosing a costume (which parents dutifully made in the weeks leading up to Hallowe’en; I have clearly failed in that my daughter is wearing a Tesco-made-in-China get-up), carving the pumpkin, organising a bag for the goodies we hoped to gather door-to-door and last but not least, ensuring we’d assembled the iconic orange and black UNICEF boxes distributed through our schools, brownies and cubs or churches.  I have yet to see the familiar-from-childhood UNICEF box in England. 

I made enquiries locally and no one seemed to have heard of UNICEF boxes.  Collecting for UNICEF was as much associated with Hallowe’en as any of the other traditions in North America.  For many parents, the consumerist ethos of trick-or-treat culture was softened by its charitable aspects.  During World War II, Canadian children collected money for British counterparts who’d lost homes during the Blitz.  With the advent of the United Nations and its children’s fund (now UNICEF) in the 1950’s, UNICEF became the iconic charity associated with Hallowe’en trick-or-treaters.  As children, we collected with pride and came to understand that we were really quite privileged but that we could help children less fortunate than us through UNICEF, which provides children in developing countries with clean water, food, health care, education (the nexus with our usual topic), and a safe environment in which to grow up. For many of us, it was our first introduction to charitable giving.

 So how is it that we in England in the course of less than a decade have taken on board Hallowe’en almost as a job lot…but without the one aspect which infused the tradition with a broader sense of community?  Anyone with further insight is welcome to comment.

On a separate note, it seems that some less savoury fringe aspects of Hallowe’en have developed in England.  On the radio this morning, there were warnings of gang violence on Hallowe’en in South London (and my own genteel neighbourhood being singled out — wonderful for already plummeting house prices).  Tip lines are purportedly provided for teens to grass up peers with knives.  I recall stories of pins and razors in candies in the mid-1970’s putting a bit of a damper on Hallowe’en; many in North America  thought the 1982 cyanide-laced Tylenol scare (with ensuing Hallowe’en candy copycats) would be the end of Hallowe’en.  I haven’t heard of candy tampering in England, and I guess the gang violence is just the 2008 London version of the 1982 alarm of my own childhood.

Have fun tonight, but do be careful. Only take your children to the homes of neighbours you know and inspect all candy before allowing your children to eat it.  Be safe.

The best kept British school secret…

Over the next few days, I’m going to share with you a few affordable school gems if your current school has become unaffordable. Note that I am not defining “affordable”. We each have our own snack brackets. Some of you have kids at the likes of Eton or Benenden which you can’t afford as we continue to be increasingly credit-crunched. You may still be able to afford other public schools (yes, there are more affordable public schools!)  Some of you may have kids at boarding schools further down the foodchain (aka at “minor” public schools, as Mr. Snowdon corrects me.) There are still options for you. And some of you may have kids in public day schools. There are still, unbelievably, options for you, too, to explore. Today, I’m going to start with the more expensive options, and during the course of the next week, I’ll work through the various snack bracket options.

We’re unique in the UK in having a small, relatively unpublicised state boarding school system.  There are under three dozen such schools in the UK, most of which offer 11-18 schooling .  A small handful cater to the primary level — but don’t get me  going on that one; as a North American, when I hear people talk about little Peregrine going to Summer Fields or Sunningdale at age 7, I always think of that famous saying: “The English hate children. They keep their dogs at home and send their kids off to high class kennels called Eton and Harrow”.  Having spent ten years in this country now, however, I have begun to appreciate that boarding school for older children may offer something special or at the very least be a necessity in some circumstances.  But I just don’t get it for primary school. Seven is just too bloody young to get rid of your kids.

State boarding schools are open to children who are holders of EU passports.  You pay no tuition but you do pay for boarding — currently around £3000 per term.  You can see why state boarding schools are of limited interest to those who cannot afford London day school fees — you’d be swapping one £10k price tag for another of a similar amount.  (I suppose you could still see it as a saving when you take into account the food the average teenager consumes at home. Oh, and the long hot showers which the meter now registers and which you now pay for…)  But for someone currently paying £15-25000 per year for a boarding school in the private sector in the UK, there are substantial savings.  If you’re a snob, you can still brag to your friends that little Arthur is “away at school” and still talk about him coming home for an “exeat”.  Since the state boarding schools are so little known, very few in your social circle need to know that your stock portfolio is a fraction of what it once was and that little Arthur has actually “gone state!” 

 There are other advantages to state boarding schools.  Some, such as Cranbrook in Kent (one of my favourites) are grammar schools.  Local kids have to sit an entrance exam; only those in the top ability band are offered places.  I think many at Cranbrook would agree that the intake for boarding places is of a slightly lower ability level.  Slighty above average Atticus could therefore get into a “better” school (academically) than he would otherwise get into as a day student at his local grammar school (assuming there is one) by sitting the 11+ in a grammar school district.  Other schools, such as Hockerill Anglo-European College, offer the international baccalaureate and have average scores to give IB schools Sevenoaks and King’s College Wimbledon a run for their money.  (I also loved this school’s language focus: I heard groups of pupils speaking in German and across the courtyard, another group speaking in Spanish; it clearly attracts EU pupils from other countries.) Old Swinford Hospital School in the West Midlands is another one of my favourites.  Once a public school, it is still steeped in all the tradition and physical plant one would expect of a public school.  There are approximately 30 other state boarding schools. I must admit that there are some I would not send my child to as a day pupil if I lived in the catchment area, so I certainly wouldn’t consider paying to send my child to board at those. But there are some good ones (including my favourites above) and they are certainly worth exploring.  Plus, with the Russell Group universities increasingly discriminating in favour of state school applicants, why not enjoy bragging about little Jack being at boarding school and giving him the best shot ever of getting into Oxbridge?

 For more information on the state boarding schools, see:  http://www.sbsa.org.uk

Credit crunch: When they can’t afford the school fees any longer

The credit crunch has begun to hit my middle class circle recently in a very personal way.  When the last bubble burst (dot com, circa 2000), I was younger. No kids. No mortgage. Very few real responsibilities.  Most of my friends at the time were similarly situated. It was a blip for us.  We moved on.  This time, however, we are all older; many of our friends have kids in school, and a good handful have kids in fee-paying schools.  But the credit crunch has come down hard on many in our circle: redundancies and failing family businesses and the inevitable need to pull kids out of fee-paying schools.  

Some would say that a private education is a luxury to begin with.  So what if your kid has to “go state” with the masses now?  After all, Paul McCartney’s kids did it, Gordon Brown’s are doing it, and David Cameron’s are too.  Some of the state school registrars I have called up in the past few weeks asking for places for children of friends seemed to revel in the private sector families all of a sudden begging at their doorsteps. (Two registrars at London state secondary schools directed two high ability and achieving daughters of a friend to a local school which I am sure former education secretary Estelle Morris had in mind when she said there were some schools she wouldn’t touch with a bargepole.)  The reality is, we have kids being forced to leave the school environments they know and are nurtured by in circumstances which add further to the sense of insecurity such a move (especially mid-year) brings.  More often than not, the children affected are not from the moneyed established classes for whom the credit crunch is but a credit pinch but rather from families who have prioritised education over other discretionary spending in the family budget.  And let’s not forget that while they’ve been paying fees to the independent sector, their parents have continued to contribute to the state sector through their taxes. 

I have come to the conclusion that transferring from the private sector to the state sector outside of the usual transfer points (ie Reception, Year 7 and Sixth Form) requires more than perseverance: it requires good letter-writing, good follow-up, good kids to brag about who will help a recipient school’s league table position, and, ideally, a few good connections.  If your kid is having to change schools mid-year, replace “good” with “exceptional” in the previous sentence. And add lots of luck.

My friend’s daughters did manage to secure places for January in Years 7 and 8, respectively, at a highly sought after school in London which I won’t name in case it results in unwanted scrutiny by LEA authorities.  Two down, one to go.  Another friend has a son finishing off his GCSEs at a fee-paying school. He, like the girls, is a catch: scholarship material and high athletic ability.  It remains to be seen whether he, too, will be able to secure himself a coveted spot at the very same London state secondary.

These are clearly desperate times for people who, like my friends, would prefer not to take their kids out of their current fee-paying schools.  Alternatively, if they must take them out and no viable local state school options are available, what can they do? I’ll explore options for keeping your kids in their current schools and alternate arrangements in future posts.