Making school interesting
The following is a rambling post, (aren’t they all? I hear you say) so, if you’re not in the mood for hiking, it would be wise to stop here.
Primary school was never boring. One teacher taught every subject in a year group. Each member of the class was known, for better or worse, and there was no escaping notice. It may not always have been comfortable, but it worked. There is more flexibility in primary schools now and pupils receive lessons from different teachers, though usually one teacher has overall responsibility for one class and knows the children well.
It’s a different experience at secondary school. There are many more students and staff. Children are separated from others with whom they may have been at school for six or seven years and put in tutor groups or registration classes with people they may never have seen before.
Pupils move around the school to different areas, to be taught by teachers they may see only once a week. It’s a new and disconcerting life, but one to which they adjust quite quickly.
My introduction to history at grammar school revolved around the repeal of the Corn Law. As I recall, we were given a list of dates to learn without much understanding of the politics behind the law. This was less than interesting to a class of 11-year-olds.
Maybe the teacher was engaged in her subject but she could not capture my attention. To be fair, I was a daydreamer, easily distracted. My interest was sparked a couple of years later by a different history teacher, who told us that the Sun King, Louis XIV, lost his toes through disease. Subsequently, I discovered that he had developed gangrene in his left leg in August 1715 after a hunting trip. It spread rapidly and he died a few days later.
Thereafter, I developed an interest in history.
Biology was always taught in a stimulating way and I remember drawing amoeba and spirogyra during my first lessons. I was fascinated by those single-celled organisms, and the interest and curiosity they awoke developed and endures.
Drawing maps and plotting names of rivers and towns in geography was a little stultifying, but quite a lot of it stuck. Physical geography was much more exciting. My recollection is that the geography teacher was enthusiastic about it and transmitted her interest to us.
Sadly, chemistry and physics were poorly taught, or perhaps I poorly listened, and the mysteries passed me by until much later, long after I had left school. Similarly, mathematics was taught unimaginatively. Not understanding was the fault of the pupil, not the teacher’s delivery.
When I listen now to experts speaking about their field of study, I hear the enthusiasm and passion in their voices. I am impressed by how articulate they are and the ease with which they explain complex concepts in a way that any listener can understand.
Why cannot schools draw in such expertise? Of course, some do, and there are numerous examples of pupils being inspired by their teachers in all fields. For many, though, education only really has significance once school has been left far behind.
Maybe that is the purpose of school – to jumpstart curiosity so that it can remain an integral part of life – but how many people regret the lost opportunities that school could have offered and spend years ‘catching up’? There is some truth in the saying, ‘Education is wasted on the young.’ It certainly is wasted if it has been poorly delivered.
