SECRETARY'S BLOG
Apologies to regular readers for the gap between the last update and this update (well, my dad says he reads it, and he also asks when I'm going to do an update - so here it is, at long last).
The NUT is asking members to send in cards objecting to the latest idea from the Ministry of Crazy Ideas. This time its about a so-called License To Teach. Apparently, its not enough that there are already countless ways in which teachers can be held accountable (from OFSTED to parents to Performance Managers etc). We now need a five year MOT! In the words of Victor Meldrew "I don'd believe it". It is hard to think of anything that would demoralise teachers more than this. These people really don't have a clue.
Speaking of not having a clue...the next paragraph is still true, despite having been written more than a few months ago:
On a less important note, my football team is struggling. Again. Football can tell you a lot about life. It tells me that losing is more common than winning, and that there's always something that will snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.
You see, this is further evidence that footie fans are impervious to rationality and really don't have a clue. Or maybe the reality is that blind loyalty to a lost cause is actually quite reasonable given that we are doomed to be governed by people who think a Teacher MOT is a terrific idea!
Knowing my absolute conviction that football will never be played by a better team than the Brazil team which won the World Cup in June 1970, my son bought me a book about that team. Totally fascinating read, full of interesting facts and observations about the team. In a way, its also a bit disconcerting that the players who I thought of as completely infallible were and are, in fact, real people with all the frailties and quirks you would expect. Somehow, I'm glad I didn't know these things back in 1970, when I saw that final and that team. Having said that, there will never be a better team...
While I'm back in the past, I was sad to see the recent death of Edward Woodward. I am old enough to remember with great affection how he and Russell Hunter formed a highly unlikely double act in Callan in the late 60s. The fact that his death coincided with Anthony Valentine (who also had a lead role in Callan) appearing in Coronation Street brought things in a kind of circle. Its a sign of the times that the latest world of British spies (in Spooks) is a million miles away from the seedy world inhabited by Callan and Lonely. And while the obits concentrated on The Wicker Man, Woodward was far better in Breaker Morant, whose final scene is one of the most moving you will see.
Now that I have had my Barry Norman moment...
On a more serious note, I am not the only person to be astonished by the punitive nature of the new OFSTED framework. After a period when OFSTED appeared to be recognising that schools and teachers deserved at least some credit, and seemed to be showing some understanding that contexts do matter, we seem to have been plunged back into some kind of Accountability Dark Ages, where OFSTED inspectors appear clad in ragged hoods and cloaks wielding the scythe of the Grim Reaper, cutting down all who stand before them. If this sounds an exaggerated picture, talk to those who have suffered at the hands ofthe OFSTED wraiths...talk to those who have knowledge of the Kafka-like nature of the new framework ... and then remind yourself that, yes, these things do in fact exist, walk the earth, and have bodily form. And they have real impacts on real lives. It is an extraordinary approach to take, and cannot be allowed to stand.
I read with interest that some people want to release wolves into the wilder areas of our fair land. Now, call me old-fashioned but I have reservations about this proposal. I know wolves did roam about freely once. A very very long time ago. So did bears of various shapes and sizes. I can't help but think that this is slightly misguided thinking. One of the things which makes this country different from...say Canada...is the absence of too many large predatory animals. We can ramble around the wilder parts of this land safe in the knowledge that the most dangerous animal we are likely to encounter will be an angry, but favourably smallish, polecat. I like it that way. I like not thinking about whether Mr Wolf has eaten a hearty breakfast or if I am to become Mrs Wolf's equivalent of brunch. If I wanted the adrenalin rush created by encountering dangerous wild animals I would move to...say Canada. So, think again is what I say! First its wolves, then it will be bears, and then sabre-toothed tigers. Its the start of a slippery slope. Mark my words.
I can't end this without commenting on the new Bob Dylan album (I'm still tempted to write 'LP'). Its called Christmas In The Heart, and is designed to raise money for the homeless. Dylan doesn't get a penny (this is an old unit of currency, for younger readers). It really is quite good, but very odd as well. As my very traditional Grammar School (motto: 'abeunt studia in mores') used to march us to the local church and train us to sing Adeste Fideles in Latin (all the way through!!!), I'm pleased Dylan attempts a verse in the same way. Winter Wonderland and Have Yourself A Very Merry Christmas are terrific, and take you back to much simpler times, when old men in bright sweaters sat on rocking chairs by giant fireplaces looking into the TV camera as they crooned away (with great sincerity) about christmas bells and sleigh rides. Now, Dylan might not croon exactly, but his heart is in the right place. And that is certainly not true of OFSTED...
Hey ho.