I hope that this will be the first in a trilogy of posts on alternative education on Shinemama. This one is perhaps the most practical and sticks to the facts, looking at how my family handles home education from day to day. There will be more philosophical thoughts on alternative education coming soon.

I started home educating my two daughters four months ago. A is nine years old (grade 3) and M is six (grade 1). The choice to HE came suddenly and was somewhat pushed onto us after difficulties at school.

We suspected this might happen and had our ‘plan’ mostly worked out, but it was still a big plunge into the unknown, and like opting for a home birth, it felt like a maverick move. Surely education, like birth must be handled by professionals.

Well, the first thing we did was discuss it with the children. I wanted them to be fully involved in the decision-making (and they were both certain they would prefer home schooling). Legally and technically speaking, home schooling is simple in California. There is a small amount of paperwork to fill out and file and then you can call yourself a private school. There must be a curriculum and attendance records must be kept but the curriculum can cover whatever the educator chooses. There are other options such as enrolling in a charter school or in ‘CAVA’ the Californian Virtual Academy, an online public school.

We opted for the K12 computer-based curriculum. CAVA also uses K12 and provides not only free access to K12 but also free computers for your children. However it comes with the drawback that you must answer to a supervising teacher. We felt we needed a little more space than that to ‘deschool’ the girls and figure out their needs.

I love the theory of unschooling and learning from life experiences, but I think within unschooling, children will still choose to learn about certain topics which will require reading and studying. Therefore, I really don’t have any concerns about providing a structured curriculum to cover the basics. The girls seem to enjoy this style of learning.

Currently, they are both taking Maths, Language Arts (English), History, Science, Art and Music. They are also taking Spanish through the K12 ‘Powerspeak’ add-on, a program which cleverly awards them play money for activities which they can spend on accessories for their avatars. I don’t think the music module is helpful – they learn far more in private piano class, but history, science and art are wonderful for introducing a huge variety of topics with lovely materials and activities.

Our days are pretty relaxed. The girls go to an outside activity five days a week – riding, gymnastics, dance and piano so that they see other kids and experience other teaching styles. I know there are several home school groups around but we just don’t seem to find time! So many places offer home school classes too. The science museum has excellent ones and private teachers love the fact the children can take classes in the daytime.

At home, we usually spend a couple of hours a day on computer-based classes. Generally we always do maths and English then pick from the other subjects. It’s flexible so we can have a day off or do extra. When we work, I tend to sit on the sofa with M and the laptop. We talk and read and complete activities. A is pretty much autonomous but I don’t want her to feel bored or abandoned so we talk and check in with each other and go over her assessments when she tells me what she learned in each lesson.

I also share the teaching with the other adults in the house. This tends to work out pretty well. We’ve found it has given us all more of an insight into how exactly the children are doing – there are no surprises or unpleasant phone calls from school. We also have a good understanding of their learning styles. Homework had become such a stresspoint for us at school – we only saw half the picture.

The rest of the time, the children play around the house or help out with cooking or shopping. A likes lego, building and science. M likes stories and dressing up. They both read. And read. And read. We’re lucky in San Diego to have so many museums and the zoo on our doorstep. There are always places to go and we never seem to be bored.

We don’t have many rules but I had to lay down a few guidelines. The girls’ computers are restricted so that the girls can only use approved sites during the day. Education City, Mathletics, BBC Schools and so on. No Club Penguin before 5pm! We also had to put a restriction on comic books and ‘Rainbow Fairies’ during ’school hours’ – there are so many other books to choose from.

In reality, our school hours are very flexible. We tend to sleep in and stay up later. This leaves evenings free for guilt-free dinner out or activities like laser quest. There’s none of the ’school night’ worry. Lessons are fairly short so we fit them around our activities.

There is a downside to HE. Sometimes I would love more time to myself and I wonder what the future holds. Ideally, I suppose I would like to have work based at home so I can both work and HE. The issues which I thought would worry me most have worked themselves out though. Socialisation is no problem – we seem to be out and about more than ever. The girls insist they have no wish to return to school.

I was concerned about keeping up with grade levels but it amazes me how much work we can do in a very short time. I feel M in particular can do more work in a day at home than she did in a week at school. The classes on K12 are very focussed with specific and clear learning objectives. They’re not endless worksheets and repetition. I find the curriculum very thorough too. Occasionally a little too thorough.

M desperately needs one on one attention and when she has it, she can soar but this just wasn’t feasible at school. At home it is no problem.

And what I love is that the children can explore subjects in as much detail as they choose. If something catches their interest, we can pull out books, visit museums and drift off on a flight of adventure to learn more whether it’s cooking or crochet or computer programming or Mandarin!

Overall, it’s been easier than I expected. It’s not for everyone as not everyone wants to be tied to the home like this (sometimes I question whether I do!) but I do think anyone could do it, especially with a good curriculum and teaching guide (such as K12) to help. We have also worked hard (with a little help from the IKEA Trofast shelving system!) to provide an organised, Montessori-influenced environment where the girls have access to materials and activities so that they can explore whatever they choose when they want.

I’m coming to the end of the final module of my MBA. I started on that path ten years ago as a bright-eyed 21 year old software developer with vague notions of one day being a powerdressing consultant. It’s been a long, long process with several pauses during which I had two babies, completed a BA in theatre at a bricks and mortar university then moved across the world and had a third baby.

I accelerated the MBA over the last two years and decided to pick a specialism in healthcare and the life sciences. It turned out to be a serendipitous choice. My home birth revitalised a rabid interest in birth matters and the life science specialism allowed me to combine my birth and management studies into a dissertation on how the NHS might cope with managing doulas.

So now I find myself at a crossroads. Home-educating and breastfeeding are part of my life and I’m more t-shirts and piercings than shoulderpads. But I want to keep studying, keep going, keep learning and I want to be challenged. I also want to be in a position to make positive changes in the world.

Here’s the thing.. my impression is that the only qualification which counts is MD. (Please, PLEASE challenge me on this. I’d welcome a debate!)

Personally, I adore midwives. I’ve met several over the last year or so who are among the wisest people I have ever met. They are on top of the latest evidence, constantly learning, reading, gaining experience and absorbing knowledge. They have the emotional intelligence, spiritual intuition AND the science.

Yet if we’re playing ‘birth top trumps’ the midwife always loses out to the doctor.

And in American society, the doctor is king. They can deliver babies, cut people open, prescribe medicine, make diagnoses and declare deaths. They get a cracking salary. They can also make all sorts of pronouncements that are often ‘the voice of experience’ rather than coming from any kind of evidence.

And many will say fair enough, they went to medical school for a long time.

And this is where I hit a snag.

I would quite like to go to medical school. I would love to learn about cell biology and anatomy and all that stuff. I’m a good student. I’ve juggled motherhood and studying in various fields for years.

Yet the barriers are massive. They’re almost insurmountable if you have young children. “It’s about stamina.” I hear. You have to go full time. You can’t do med school part time. You have to be dedicated. It has to be your number one priority. Your spouse will have to deal with the funny hours. You won’t see your children. You need to do it early in life or you’ll never pay off the debts etc. etc. etc.

I ask why? Why can’t you learn more slowly? Why all the macho stamina stuff? Why is it a study course tailored to young, childless people? Why is the med-school recruitment target audience made up of people who have not yet had a baby or even much life experience out of academia? At my school, the ‘clever girls’ were groomed to be doctors following a straight, clear path from school. And well done to them. It’s not an easy path. They were smart figuring out what they wanted to do before children. But some of us needed a little more time to figure out what we want to do – then find it’s too late.

Things are changing slowly in the UK – St George’s for example offers a fast track course aimed at getting older students in and trained. There are post-bacc courses in the US too. But there are no part time med schools. You have to dedicate yourself to it entirely. You can do law or business part time. You can do a PhD part time. But medicine is different. Why?

Now I’m not suggesting that doulas or midwives are second best. They’re a different thing entirely. And there are some massively influential ones – Peggy Simkin, Ina May Gaskin etc. etc. But they don’t carry as much weight in the medical world as they should. Hospitals NEED more doctors like Dr Biter who is rightly all over the news at the moment. Doctors who have PERSPECTIVE and are aware of why natural birth is important and when they should let it take its course. Doctors who carry weight with their peers. Who have the same level of education and authority.

But that education is not easily available to women with children. Especially women who are reluctant to put their children into full time day care.

There’s a feminist issue here. Why should wanting to care for your children preclude you from accessing that education? Why shouldn’t women with children study and gain the experience to become peers with doctors? So many mothers become doulas or even midwives yet for a hands-on mother to become an OB/GYN is difficult to the point of near-impossibility.

And doulas and midwives will always be ‘put in their place’ beneath the OB/GYNs. The patriarchy is stifling.

How can mothers get their voice and experience heard when we’re always told we’re ‘not as good’ or ‘not as clever’ or ‘not as educated’ or ‘don’t carry as much authority’ as the wise doctor and we don’t even have a chance to access the education?

Breastfeeding and natural birth are emotive subjects and sadly surrounded in controversy.

These two subjects trigger all kinds of feelings in women and for those who wanted to breastfeed or who wanted a ‘natural’ delivery but did not succeed, for whatever reason, those feelings are often tinged with deep sadness, regret and guilt which can contribute heavily to postnatal depression.

This poses a great dilemma for educators. We are charged with not building up ‘unreal expectations’

Why natural birth is ‘difficult’

In American hospitals, the chips are stacked against anyone wanting a delivery without interventions as labour without augmentation with pitocin (artificially increasing the intensity and regularity of contractions) is increasingly rare. The spiral of interventions is fast and furious. Pitocin often makes contractions unmanageable by the body’s own hormones, which makes epidural pain control essential, which restricts the body’s ability to push and the woman’s ability to move and remain upright.

Why breastfeeding is ‘difficult’

Similarly, breastfeeding is challenged by unfair tactics – caesareans make breastfeeding more difficult, criticism of bedsharing threatens one of the most natural ways for you and your baby to share closeness, triggering hormones which aid milk production and more subversively, marketing of formula milk (free samples on the labour ward for example) hints that it is condoned by medical professionals, that it is just as good as breast milk. Most critical of all is the lack of support. Few of us are lucky enough to have experienced family around us who can help out with breastfeeding. Not enough professional breastfeeding counsellors are available (although the NCT in the UK or La Leche League in the US are always great places to shout for help with breastfeeding if you need it!) and maternity wards are understaffed – they simply don’t have the time or resources to give every woman the support she needs to breastfeed. According to the USA’s CDC figures for 2003, 71% of women tried to breastfeed in hospital. By 6 months, only 36% of women are still breastfeeding at all and only 14% still breastfeeding exclusively. Figures for the UK Office for National Statistics 2005 are worse, showing only 35% of women exclusively breastfeeding at one week and only 3% at five months.

The World Health Organisation recommends breastfeeding until two years and exclusive breastfeeding up to six months.

It’s a gloomy picture isn’t it? And for educators teaching to a hospital curriculum, the challenge is nearly insurmountable. How can we tell women they can have the birth they want and feed in the way they want when the odds are so heavily against them? Aren’t we just setting them up for failure? Isn’t the guilt just compounded when we teach that bottlefeeding increases their baby’s risk of SIDS or leukemia.

Can you plan for birth?

One argument I come across is that birth is ‘random’ and that birth plans are frequently laughed at by hospital staff. “The one way to jinx your birth is to write a plan” they say. Well, while it is true that birth can be unpredictable, it’s not the same as saying that it is completely out of control. A percentage of births are easy – labour is relatively short and the baby comes without too much effort. Another percentage of births are very difficult. No matter what the mother or the staff do, the baby is badly positioned or ’stuck’ and needs intervention to be delivered. I would suggest that a large percentage of births fall somewhere in between – that a natural delivery is feasible, but if poorly managed, they may be written off as a ‘failure to progress’ and progress to caesarean or instrumental delivery. It is for this large group that active birth is so crucial. Staying upright, moving around, drinking raspberry leaf tea, using a doula, using a birth ball, swaying the pelvis, relaxation and visualisation may all swing the balance, stave off stress and help labour to take its natural course.

Breastfeeding is very similar. A small amount of women may never be able to breastfeed, another percentage will find it easy. Most will need some support and to overcome a few obstacles to really settle into it. Once again, the right support can really swing the balance, yet as we have seen that support is frequently lacking.

The real difficulty for educators is that attitude makes a difference. Imagine a scale from one to ten, when 1 is “I don’t want to breastfeed”, 10 is “I definitely want to breastfeed” and 5 is “I want to give breastfeeding a try.” Those pregnant women who score themselves nearer to 10 are more likely to succeed in breastfeeding than those who score a 5. They are more likely to seek help, support and push on through difficulties. Similarly, a scale from 1 to 10 might exist for giving birth without an epidural. Those who are dead set against an epidural will be likely to try anything else first.

Of course, in both cases, nothing is guaranteed, no matter how determined you are. And it is possible that someone scoring a ‘1′ that they don’t want to breastfeed might have a change of heart and try anyway, or someone scoring a ‘1′ that they definitely want an epidural might realise in the delivery room that they are coping fine without. But scoring higher definitely boosts the chance of success.

Education is likely to raise those expectations. A woman who originally scored a ‘5′ that she might like to try breastfeeding (perhaps her family all formula-fed) could well shift her score up a few notches if she learned how it might benefit her baby. Similarly, a woman might become more determined to try birthing without an epidural if she learned more about the pro’s and con’s.

The difficulty here is that it sounds as if I’m arguing that success depends on determination. I do believe determination plays a part in both birth and breastfeeding, but as I have already pointed out, it is only part of the equation. Occasionally birth or breastfeeding have real physical reasons why they cannot work. Sometimes the support just isn’t there and sometimes women just don’t have access to the information they really need (their doctor perhaps tells them that an epidural is very safe and that they don’t need to suffer).

I would love to see the guilt taken out of these aspects of parenting. I would love to see women feel comfortable and happy with their choices. What stood out for me is that in the UK’s 2000 birth survey published by the Department of Health, ninety percent of women who gave up breastfeeding in the first six weeks wanted to continue. So who is to blame when it goes wrong? Clearly not these mothers.

The answer is complex. It comes down to a lack of support, from maternity wards to policymakers, from employers to public baby ‘unfriendly’ venues, from formula marketeers to family. There is a great need for education and for professional support. There is a massive demand for breastfeeding counsellors and consultants. I hear so many stories of women whose ‘milk never came in’ when they weren’t shown attachment techniques, skin-to-skin contact, frequent feeding, co-sleeping and so on. When they thought colustrum wasn’t enough. Similarly, where birth is concerned, there is a need for education, for evidence-based decision making in hospitals rather than unhelpful policies and procedures, for doulas and for the opportunity for women to really get active and work with their bodies rather than with hospital demands for restrictive monitoring, fasting or bedrest when not strictly needed.

What we need is to stop blaming ourselves. To have strength, determination and hope so that it can go right whenever it is possible, and when it occasionally doesn’t, we can be gentle on ourselves, and once we have mourned what was not to be, we can regroup and move forward.

xx

M is six. She is a happy little girl who adores ballet and fairies and wishes she could fly. She dances everywhere and likes to hold hands with the teacher. She loves maths, science and her reading age is well above her grade level. So much the better for reading about fairies. If she’s allowed, she likes to work for hours at a computer game, finding all the tricks, secrets and making sure she’s explored every nook and cranny that other people never even notice. She giggles a lot. A LOT. She is a natural clown and loves to make people laugh. She’s always, always angled unusually in photographs.

M’s teacher stopped M’s mother the other day. The same old story. It’s difficult to make her write. It takes a while to get her attention. She doesn’t like sitting straight on her chair. She talks over the teacher. She’s sometimes too loud. It took M a whole day to write one sentence. She was kept in at playtime.

M’s mother recognises this story. When M’s mother was a little girl, she was often removed from classrooms. She remembers spending much of her childhood standing in corridors, unsure why or what went wrong. She remembers that she was always the naughty one. That rumours circulated about her, that parents didn’t like their children being her friend, that teachers would call her names. She never quite knew what she did differently from the other children. It’s just how it was. When M’s mother was a little girl, her doctor said that she was ‘hyperactive.’

Twenty years later, M’s mother is talking to M’s teacher. M’s teacher says M should be ‘tested.’ That she probably has ADHD. That she probably needs ‘medication.’ That if she ‘needs’ medication and won’t take it, then M might have to leave her class and leave the school that she loves.

M’s mother is gutted. M eats well, mostly organic food with minimal additives. She exercises well and she has a happy home life. She also has an older sister who is studious and well liked.

M’s mother is pretty pissed off.

Figures are blurry for how many children are on Ritalin or similar stimulants. Estimates suggest anything up to 8 million children are currently prescribed ADHD medication. At least 90 percent of them are in the USA. Ritalin affects chemicals in a child’s brain linked to impulsivity and ‘hyperactivity.’ The ideal result at the correct dosage is a child who conforms to the needs class.

Only a few weeks ago, M’s mother noticed an advertisement in a magazine for a free trial of Adderall in a parenting magazine. A free trial, like it was chocolate. Or perfume.

Yet a quick look at the professional guidance for Adderall given to doctors is more disturbing. In fact, it carries the following warning:

AMPHETAMINES HAVE A HIGH POTENTIAL FOR ABUSE. ADMINISTRATION OF AMPHETAMINES FOR PROLONGED PERIODS OF TIME MAY LEAD TO DRUG DEPENDENCE AND MUST BE AVOIDED. PARTICULAR ATTENTION SHOULD BE PAID TO THE POSSIBILITY OF SUBJECTS OBTAINING AMPHETAMINES FOR NON-THERAPEUTIC USE OR DISTRIBUTION TO OTHERS, AND THE DRUGS SHOULD BE PRESCRIBED OR DISPENSED SPARINGLY.

MISUSE OF AMPHETAMINE MAY CAUSE SUDDEN DEATH AND SERIOUS CARDIOVASCULAR ADVERSE EVENTS.

The pediatric guidelines read,

“Pediatric Use: Long-term effects of amphetamines in children have not been well established. Amphetamines are not recommended for use in children under 3 years of age with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder described under INDICATIONS AND USAGE.”

(http://www.drugs.com/pro/adderall.html)

Professional warnings on Ritalin are similarly disturbing.

A study at Columbia University found an increase in sudden death in children who were taking Ritalin. Paediatricians and psychiatrists keen to continue prescribing argued that this was only relevant in children with existing heart abnormalities In 2008, the American Heart Association recommended EKG tests be given to children starting Ritalin, yet this is still not in effect, thanks to those prescribers fighting the recommendation. Even more worryingly, in a recent study published in the American Journal of Psychiatry, the link to sudden death was confirmed once more and in this case, children with any suspicion of heart problems had been removed from the study. Indeed, children on stimulants with no known pre-existing heart issues are five times more likely to die suddenly than other children.

These amphetamine drugs are also known to raise blood pressure, increase heart rate and are known in long term use to retard growth in children. Not to mention the tics and psychosis. Oh, and any long standing prescription for Ritalin or similar may jeapordise a military career.

So. If a doctor says so, M must take one of these drugs to remain at the school.

And let’s be under no illusions, the ADHD industry is huge. The books, the drugs, the remedies. Leon Eisenberg, a professor of psychiatry and social medicine at Harvard Medical School, says that the sale of Ritalin and other stimulant drugs for children are “driven by the convenience of the doctor, the profitability of the drug company, and the notion that there is nothing more meaningful to life than biochemistry”.

M won’t be seeing a doctor. M’s mother wonders why exactly M had to write that sentence that took all day. Whether it was worth staying indoors all day, struggling over. More than anything, she wants M to be happy, to be a pleasant, sociable child. She knows that M is not causing any harm to herself or to anyone else. She just doesn’t conform easily to the classroom rules. Much of it is just about sitting still and concentrating. M doesn’t deserve the same ‘naughty’ label that plagued M’s mother throughout her school years.

And what exactly are the school doing by giving M star charts, pulling her privileges (if play and exercise time can be considered a privilege for a six year old)? They’re using extrinsic forces to force what should be an intrinsic process. In the short term, reward and punishment may make a child conform and obey. They don’t however encourage any love of learning. The child thinks, “I must write because I will get my star and be allowed to play.” Not, “I must write because I want to master this skill and be able to enjoy using it.” In the long term, is the child going to continue writing? No. They will forever be seeking the external motivator and never develop a natural love of learning. (So what if the sentence never gets written! Will the child be a failure in later life? Unlikely.)

Mothering.com describes the Albany Free School, a drug free school where classroom life is individualised. Perhaps in these days of tight budgets, this is a dream but the article quotes Alexander S Neill who argued that the school must fit the child, not the other way round. Classrooms are there to educate children as they are, not to mould the children into ‘educatable’ beings. Surely, if so many millions of children ‘need’ ADHD medication, schools are failing them. They are not providing the education these children need. They are are merely providing a ‘one size fits all’ education. They are buying into our Western tendency to see difference as disorder.

The clue is in the word. Disorder. M refuses to be orderly. To order herself as the school would like.

M’s mother is considering home educating. M would probably thrive if given more autonomy over her learning. Fortunately, this is an option, but it should be an option. Instead, M’s mother feels forced towards this option, as to her, giving M drugs that carry a risk of death and which will change M’s brain chemistry is simply not an option. Even M’s sister says, ‘I like M exactly as she is!’ and M’s family are all in agreement here.

M’s mother believes that M has a very meaningful life. And more to the point, she enjoys her very unusual angles; in photographs, in chairs and in life!

For further reading, Dr Peter Breggin, an experienced Harvard educated psychiatrist has several eye-opening studies here concerning Ritalin, Adderall and Concerta ADHD drugs.

Mothering.com takes the debate one stage further by asking if ADHD actually exists. Shinemama’s feeling? ‘ADHD children’ undoubtedly exist. But they don’t have a disorder. They just have those unusual angles…

To discuss this article, visit our community forum here.

It’s September and throughout much of the world, children are settling back into school and the littlest ones have started their intrepid journey into their schooldays for the very first time. In most Western society, this is a time for change, where for several hours a day, parents entrust the care of their children to other adults. Five year olds have to step away from the apron strings and negotiate a new world that looks, smells, feels different. They must figure out where to hang their coat, who to sit with for lunch and how to cope with a grazed knee when mum isn’t around.

It’s an exciting time, full of opportunities and new experiences, but with a few challenges along the way.

I’ve been following a popular parenting forum and over the last few weeks, the threads have cropped up where little ones run into a ‘challenge’ at school that is outside the realm of expected adjustments to school rules and life. A little boy comes home with a sore stomach because the teacher didn’t help him straighten his trousers which have rucked up. A five year old is made to stand against a wall for talking in line.

Too many schools are an exercise in crowd control and box-ticking. The child starts school and is thrown into a room of around 30 other children. They ride a conveyor belt hurtling rapidly into the world of conformity to uniform and rules, examinations, tests and grades. They need to keep quiet to prevent bedlam. They need to walk in orderly lines and wear the right uniform. Adherence to the rules is paramount.

How did we get here? School presents a wonderful opportunity to learn about new social norms, but the transition needs to be gradual. Is it really beneficial for a five year old to plunge into the deep end?

In Maslow’s hierarchy of leads, peak learning can only happen when all the learner’s other needs have been fulfilled. It is well recognised by psychologists that a learner must not only be fed, watered and comfortable, but also feel safe, secure and share trust and respect with all those around him or her. If these conditions aren’t met, then learning will be stunted. Yet schools prefer children to be fiddling with itchy collars and ties, worrying about receiving humiliating punishments and filling out endless worksheets that keep them in line with their classmates.

So what should schools be doing? Maria Montessori proposed that education should be an ‘aid to life.’ She believed all children carry within themselves the person they will eventually become and they should be allowed the freedom to explore, create and learn so they might meet their potential. This freedom is an important concept – the conveyor belt child has little freedom. They have a rigid curriculum with key stages to tick off and standards to achieve.

What purpose are these standards serving? In the UK, six and seven year olds sit SAT exams. Ed Balls, the government’s school secretary reportedly said that children should absolutely not be told the purpose of these examinations.

So not only do we stress our children with these tests but we ignore their basic rights by being told to be dishonest with them. No, these tests don’t serve any purpose for the children – instead, they are used as political indicators to decide which schools need funding – as is attendance. So, while you may believe that a family trip to a foreign country is beneficial for your child, the school may be furious – not because it is damaging your child, but because missing a day at school affects their standing and funding.

These schools are not child centred. They are acting in self-interest.

The problem is that in mainstream schools, children are offered a homogenous curriculum. The UK’s National Curriculum sets out the ‘perfect formula’ – a spoonful of science, a drop of religious education and a dash of ICT… and so on. This perfect formula supposedly nourishes every child and forms the basis of the perfect citizen. Or does it?

As adults, our interests lie in different areas. Some of us will cut hair. Some of us will write novels. Some of us will manage banks. At university, we are allowed to devise very specific courses of study. Yet in childhood, we have to follow this very rigid structure, no matter our interests or aspirations.

This is where the child-centred options come in. Of course, we all want our children to know how to cope with life – to read, write and manage basic maths. To grasp the basics of science and scientific and critical thinking, to know about their country, culture and a little about other cultures. But none of these things are rigid. We all have different learning styles and different interests – some practitioners have proposed the three learning styles – auditory, visual and kinaesthetic (touch/physical practice). Each of us learns slightly differently and a truly child-centred approach should recognise these differences, allowing children to learn in their own way and to follow their interests as far as they desire. In a perfect classroom, Janie might be devising a project on Ancient Egypt while Johnny researches earthquakes. Ideally, there will be trust between the children and between the children and teachers so that they may share their ideas and learn from one another.

These ideas are nothing new – before formal schools developed, we learned by doing, by watching, by listening. And I strongly believe that children need experiences – they need to cook at home, they should travel, they should visit and explore and most of all, they should talk and co-operate.

Children are amazing. They are also all as unique as we are as adults. This is why we shouldn’t settle for conveyor belt education. This is why we need to trust them, respect them and meet their needs for comfort and support so that they can make the best of every learning opportunity they encounter, whether at school or in the home.