This book is actually a collection of articles, talks, letters and other writings from a variety of contributors (as indicated by the front cover). It is split into eight sections: Damage Limitation; Point of View of Learners; Compulsory Mis-education; Point of View of Parents; Grandparents; Teachers; Damage Limitation; and Education for Violence.
This book was first published in 2004, and from my point of view, I would like to read a similar book that included more recent articles and research. Having said that, I am glad I have read it, and can imagine it prompting thoughts for some readers, whether parents or teachers! My favourite bit was the post-script at the very end, entitled "Postscript: beyond damage limitation - teaching in the next learning system..." as it consists of a list of points for anyone in the teaching profession to consider whilst moulding the minds of the youngsters in their care.
I'll end with the text given on the Amazon page:
I have to take a deep breath and I have to put on a positive, cheerful demeanour, for I know that 1 will have to look the system full in the face, every visit, and I know that it will make me unutterably sad.
Why? Why will my walk down the corridor and my visit to the classroom and my attendance at a Governors' meeting make me so unhappy? And why has the recent OFSTED inspection of our secondary school - an expensive charade played out before a captive audience - driven me to speechless levels of impotent anger?
Why does my heart sink when I read of the pupils temporarily and permanently excluded? Why can't I rejoice in the school's strategies to improve the exam results? Why can't I rejoice in the school's strategies to improve the attendance rates, and in its strategies to stamp out bullying and in its policies on the wearing of school uniform and the control of litter? Why can't I rejoice in the knowledge that, after a few days' presence, the OFSTED team consulted its tick lists and concluded that a high percentage of the lessons observed were ‘satisfactory’?
I cannot.
As I walk down the corridors now and sit in on lessons and attend Governors' meetings, I see and hear from the imprisoned, the deflected, the exhausted and often the deflated. I find myself particularly studying the Headteacher for any sign of his or her cracking up, or giving up. Amazingly, despite everything, some enthusiasms do survive in small places and small doses.
But all is not well. Almost every week now I read of changes in the educational policy of the government, and these changes add up to an unacknowledged admission that things have gone badly wrong.
As I write, I have on my desk some news of the latest change: national trials are under way, apparently, of a new and less stressful test for seven-year-olds in England. The head of testing at the Qualifications and Curriculum Authority has said:
"I think this is the future, if we are going to move away from high stakes testing. We want to see if the current system can be improved, above all by valuing the teacher's detailed knowledge of the children in the class."
What words! What sentiments! Shall we weep now, or later? The damage already done to seven-year-olds by key stage one testing is quietly buried beneath another vision of the future for young children in the schools they have to attend. The damage is real. This book makes that abundantly clear; so powerfully clear in fact, that one could be forgiven for doing a Corporal Jones, who, whenever a threatening situation occurs, runs around exhorting people not to panic.
The contributors to Damage Limitation offer an alternative to panic, and an alternative to formal schooling. They are not siren voices. Far from it. They look at the present system of schooling with a clear, unflinching eye, and suggest what should happen to make schools, which are by their very nature authoritarian institutions having to march to a tune not of their own making, far less damaging to children. In addition, they go on to unfold their belief in children, in how children learn and in how they should be treated. They declare their belief in the life-affirming purpose of education, and in doing so they refuse to accept that there is no alternative to what John Taylor Gatto calls the ‘twelve-year jail sentence’.
As a briefing book on how to get educated despite school, this is both a timely exposure and a heart-warming inspiration. It is written by people whose experience in education has touched them deeply and made them think long and hard about what it means, and what it takes, to be educated. It deserves to be read by as wide an audience as possible, and we owe Professor Meighan a debt of gratitude for bringing it to life.
Peter Holt
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