A new Ofsted report praises 'nurture' groups for their life-changing work. So why are so many closing?
"People are very kind to me here and I learn about doing nice things to people," says eight-year-old Jamie. "It makes me feel happy coming here and I laugh more. It makes me feel calm," says seven-year-old Alice.
The two children are talking about the time they have spent in the nurture group at Hayesdown First school in Frome, Somerset. The nurture group is a class of eight to 12 children, separate from other classes, and designed to give special care and attention to children who are struggling because of problems at home, family bereavement, abuse or other difficulties. Among the nurture group they learn social skills such as listening, sharing and turn taking and they are given the attention they need to improve their self-esteem. In most of these groups children stay for up to four terms and are then reintegrated back into the classroom.
An Ofsted report out today has found that these early intervention groups can have a "highly significant and far-reaching" impact on children who might otherwise be at risk of losing their way at school, of behaviour problems, or even of exclusion.
"Nurture groups help to support some of the country's most vulnerable children," says Ofsted's chief inspector, Miriam Rosen. "Well-planned, rigorous intervention that focuses on academic as well as social, emotional and behavioural progress can make a huge difference to the lives of children who might otherwise be left behind."
And yet while Ofsted is lauding the success of nurture groups, and MP Graham Allen is calling for more spending on early intervention, nearly 100 nurture groups have already closed this year due to cuts in funding.
A survey carried out by the Nurture Group Network (NGN) found that 87 have closed, while others are running reduced hours or are under threat of closure.
Some nurture groups are funded by their local authority; some schools use their own budget, while others get grants from charities.
Hannah Millinship, executive assistant at NGN, says: "Some of these groups were given very little warning and there has been very little time for them to find alternative provision."
Nurture groups do need their own classroom and dedicated, trained staff, and generally cost around £50,000 a year to run, but NGN's national director, Irene Grant, is adamant they are cost-effective. "In this time of economic constraint, research has shown that nurturing is one of the most cost-effective methods of early intervention for young people with a range of social, emotional and behavioural difficulties," she says. "Graham Allen MP talks about the importance of early intervention. With nurture groups, we can turn these kids around so quickly if we get them at an early age."
Grant points to figures from the London Borough of Enfield, which show the price of running a place in a nurture group is £5,500 per child per year – three times less expensive than full-time local authority support.
Grant hopes that things will improve with more schools seeking academy status and receiving more funding. "In theory, this should be good news for nurture groups as schools will have more money and more flexibility," she says. "We have found that schools which run them quickly recognise their value and fight tooth and nail to keep them," she says.
Glasgow city council has vowed to protect the 69 nurture groups it funds although it is making cuts in other areas, and even wants to roll out the scheme to nursery and secondary schools.
In Scotland, all nurture groups are run by a teacher and a teaching assistant. In England and Wales, the model is slightly different. Sometimes they are run by a teacher, but sometimes by two teaching assistants, making them marginally cheaper. The nurture group at Hayesdown First school runs for four afternoons a week and is completely funded by the school budget.
The headteacher, Liz Stokes, says: "I would love to run it full-time, but I can't afford to. We did have problems originally convincing the other staff, as it meant taking two teaching assistants away from the classroom. But if I tried to get rid of it now, there would be an outcry. It is vital for the child and it also helps the other classes as it gives them a breather, as some of these children can be quite challenging."
The group, which was set up seven years ago, takes 12 children aged between four and nine, and each session follows a rigid routine. "It means there are no surprises, which makes it very safe and secure for them," explains Clare Kennedy, who leads the group.
At the end of the session, all the children lay the table and eat together so they can have a "family-type experience".
Denise Bultitude, assistant leader of the group, says: "We have children who don't even have a table at home and never sit at a table to eat, so it is very alien to them."
Many of these children are unable to do simple social interactions, so the group begins with an exercise called "stand and greet", where the children take it in turns to go up to another child and shake their hand and say hello.
"Basic things like reading facial expressions are very hard for some of these children, so we practise doing angry faces and happy faces. A lot of these children are either just happy or sad. Life is very black and white for them. Some children are withdrawn, some have very low self-confidence and self-esteem, and some behave aggressively." One of the children is in care and five are on the child protection register, says Kennedy.
The group works on turn-taking, sharing and feelings such as empathy and eye contact. They learn about cooperation and teamwork through parachute games, and the children get lots of praise and encouragement.
"We give them things to do that they can achieve at, which boosts their confidence. We have children who were permanent fixtures in the head's office and once they start coming here, she never sees them again. We find if we build up a relationship with them and gain their trust, we don't get them kicking off. Their listening and concentration skills improve, which helps them to access the curriculum," she adds.
There are around 1,500 nurture groups in the UK, with the majority in primary schools, although there is an increasing number in secondary schools.
In its report out today, Supporting Children with Challenging Behaviour through a Nurture Group Approach, Ofsted looked at 29 of these and evaluated their impact.
Inspectors found pupils improved their behavioural, social and emotional skills as a result of the nurture group provision, with a third making substantial progress.
Pupils in the groups had sometimes previously been excluded from school or were in danger of permanent exclusion. Others had experienced severe trauma outside of school. Almost all the nurture group pupils in the schools surveyed were working below the academic level expected for their age.
However, despite this need to improve their academic learning, some schools put academic learning on hold while the pupils were in the nurture group, because they believed the pupils should learn to socialise first. This led to them falling further behind, said the report.
The best schools ensured that "pupils made progress with their literacy, numeracy and other academic skills, so that they did not fall behind while they were in the nurture group".
In the report, inspectors called for schools to ensure that all intensive interventions enable pupils to make academic as well as social and emotional progress.
• Children's names have been changed
Phonics tests, the baccalaureate and the cost of higher education
Last week Warwick Mansell reported on pleas by literacy experts for a U-turn on the plan for phonics testing of six-year-olds.
There's an obvious point that the so-called literacy experts seem to miss. Of course there is more to reading than understanding that C-A-T makes the sound "cat". Nevertheless, if you can't do that basic step, you're going to find it much more difficult to read than if you can. So asking six-year-olds what sound G-L-I-M-P makes is just a basic test to see something hasn't gone wrong. Unfortunately, I agree it is likely that teachers will concentrate too much on getting their pupils to pass the "glimp" test and not enough on the rest of reading. But that is the fault of the teaching profession for being depressingly unambitious.
sadoldpedant via EducationGuardian.co.uk
• What are the odds on girls being better than boys in this test? Whatever happened to the understanding that children all develop at different rates?
swordedge70 via EducationGuardian.co.uk
Headteacher Paul Luxmoore, in discussing the vocational baccalaureate (A broader bacc, 5 July), says: "There have been fears – which have largely been overcome – that the new qualification could dilute the IB brand." Dilution has already occurred with Michael Gove's invention of an "English baccalaureate", which merely consists of his pet GCSE subjects. And this is not to be confused with Andrew Adonis's "technical baccalaureate". Unfortunately the word "baccalaureate" is being used as a go-faster stripe or "GT" badge of quality education, designed to silence critical voices.
Derrick Cameron
Stoke-on-Trent
• In Switzerland, a massive 70% of 15- to 19-year-olds do apprenticeships combined with classroom learning. Only 20% attend senior secondary school to gain entrance to traditional universities. The apprentices have the option of additional studies leading to a vocational baccalaureate. Around 10% take this path. Others do further training instead. The equivalent of a chartered acountant in Switzerland can take the training course route, steadily building a portfolio of experience in a bank or a company as they go. They are earning all the way, from the age of 15. And no doubt laughing all the way to the bank.
Margaret Oertig-Davidson
FHNW, University of Applied Sciences, Basel
Last week Peter Scott argued that the higher education white paper will do the opposite of most of its aims.
I agree that the white paper is a mess and that there will have to be more regulation to control costs. But you are wrong to complain about the intention of keeping fees at sensible levels. The problems the government faces have arisen from two errors – raising the fee cap way beyond the level necessary; and failing to appreciate the sheer scale of the financial risk they were imposing on future taxpayers.
The loan book will in a few years total £100bn and rising. If the government's estimate of the amount they will get back in repayments is out by 20%, this will cost us £20bn. The Higher Education Policy Institute points out that the estimates depend on the average graduate earning £100k in today's money in 30 years' time. You don't have to lower the government's speculative estimates of future wage growth by much to end up with an enormous hole. In short, this is PFI and the universities find themselves in the role of the PFI contractors. The mess may be the government's fault, but there is no alternative to keeping fees at sensible levels.
anorak3 via EducationGuardian.co.uk
Phonics tests, the baccalaureate and the cost of higher education
Last week Warwick Mansell reported on pleas by literacy experts for a U-turn on the plan for phonics testing of six-year-olds.
There's an obvious point that the so-called literacy experts seem to miss. Of course there is more to reading than understanding that C-A-T makes the sound "cat". Nevertheless, if you can't do that basic step, you're going to find it much more difficult to read than if you can. So asking six-year-olds what sound G-L-I-M-P makes is just a basic test to see something hasn't gone wrong. Unfortunately, I agree it is likely that teachers will concentrate too much on getting their pupils to pass the "glimp" test and not enough on the rest of reading. But that is the fault of the teaching profession for being depressingly unambitious.
sadoldpedant via EducationGuardian.co.uk
• What are the odds on girls being better than boys in this test? Whatever happened to the understanding that children all develop at different rates?
swordedge70 via EducationGuardian.co.uk
Headteacher Paul Luxmoore, in discussing the vocational baccalaureate (A broader bacc, 5 July), says: "There have been fears – which have largely been overcome – that the new qualification could dilute the IB brand." Dilution has already occurred with Michael Gove's invention of an "English baccalaureate", which merely consists of his pet GCSE subjects. And this is not to be confused with Andrew Adonis's "technical baccalaureate". Unfortunately the word "baccalaureate" is being used as a go-faster stripe or "GT" badge of quality education, designed to silence critical voices.
Derrick Cameron
Stoke-on-Trent
• In Switzerland, a massive 70% of 15- to 19-year-olds do apprenticeships combined with classroom learning. Only 20% attend senior secondary school to gain entrance to traditional universities. The apprentices have the option of additional studies leading to a vocational baccalaureate. Around 10% take this path. Others do further training instead. The equivalent of a chartered acountant in Switzerland can take the training course route, steadily building a portfolio of experience in a bank or a company as they go. They are earning all the way, from the age of 15. And no doubt laughing all the way to the bank.
Margaret Oertig-Davidson
FHNW, University of Applied Sciences, Basel
Last week Peter Scott argued that the higher education white paper will do the opposite of most of its aims.
I agree that the white paper is a mess and that there will have to be more regulation to control costs. But you are wrong to complain about the intention of keeping fees at sensible levels. The problems the government faces have arisen from two errors – raising the fee cap way beyond the level necessary; and failing to appreciate the sheer scale of the financial risk they were imposing on future taxpayers.
The loan book will in a few years total £100bn and rising. If the government's estimate of the amount they will get back in repayments is out by 20%, this will cost us £20bn. The Higher Education Policy Institute points out that the estimates depend on the average graduate earning £100k in today's money in 30 years' time. You don't have to lower the government's speculative estimates of future wage growth by much to end up with an enormous hole. In short, this is PFI and the universities find themselves in the role of the PFI contractors. The mess may be the government's fault, but there is no alternative to keeping fees at sensible levels.
anorak3 via EducationGuardian.co.uk
This week on the Guardian Teacher Network there is a wealth of resources for teaching children about biodiversity in the world's forests
Species extinction is now occurring at a faster rate than at any time in Earth's history, while at the same time thousands of new creatures are being discovered, mostly in the world's forests.
How can children at home and in schools get their heads around this vast subject? We have some wonderful resources on the Guardian Teacher Network to provide a way in.
The perfect introduction for primary children (and beyond) is an animation made by and for children with the help of the conservation organisation WWF. This film crystallises pretty much all the issues involved.
2011 is the UN International Year of the Forests, and to celebrate, WWF launches the Big Forest Picnic project today, planning events all over the UK on 20 August.
The idea is to encourage people to celebrate their local woodland and to think about how important forests are.
You'll find a set of WWF's inspiring posters on forests and sustainability issues, together with key questions, activity ideas and background.
There's no doubt that wildlife imagery is an effective means of building environmental awareness. The team at ARKive library have produced some rich resources.
In Biodiversity Hospital, lower secondary students work in teams and learn how to balance the competing priorities for the conservation of an endangered species.
For the ultimate in inspiring images, look at some photographs taken by wild crested black macaque in the forests of Indonesia after they borrowed a wildlife photographer's camera.
Read an introduction on how scientists are working in the field to discover new species, including the 10cm Berthe's mouse lemur now named as the world's smallest known primate. Read about the newly discovered fungi now called SpongeBob SquarePants.
• The Guardian Teacher Network offers more than 70,000 pages of lesson plans and interactive materials. This is being added to every day: 35,000 teachers have already registered. Go to teachers.guardian.co.uk. There are also nearly 2,000 jobs and schools can advertise free: schoolsjobs.guardian.co.uk
This week on the Guardian Teacher Network there is a wealth of resources for teaching children about biodiversity in the world's forests
Species extinction is now occurring at a faster rate than at any time in Earth's history, while at the same time thousands of new creatures are being discovered, mostly in the world's forests.
How can children at home and in schools get their heads around this vast subject? We have some wonderful resources on the Guardian Teacher Network to provide a way in.
The perfect introduction for primary children (and beyond) is an animation made by and for children with the help of the conservation organisation WWF. This film crystallises pretty much all the issues involved.
2011 is the UN International Year of the Forests, and to celebrate, WWF launches the Big Forest Picnic project today, planning events all over the UK on 20 August.
The idea is to encourage people to celebrate their local woodland and to think about how important forests are.
You'll find a set of WWF's inspiring posters on forests and sustainability issues, together with key questions, activity ideas and background.
There's no doubt that wildlife imagery is an effective means of building environmental awareness. The team at ARKive library have produced some rich resources.
In Biodiversity Hospital, lower secondary students work in teams and learn how to balance the competing priorities for the conservation of an endangered species.
For the ultimate in inspiring images, look at some photographs taken by wild crested black macaque in the forests of Indonesia after they borrowed a wildlife photographer's camera.
Read an introduction on how scientists are working in the field to discover new species, including the 10cm Berthe's mouse lemur now named as the world's smallest known primate. Read about the newly discovered fungi now called SpongeBob SquarePants.
We are asking schools to tell us about their A-level and GCSE results online
This summer, the Guardian is asking schools to tell us all about their A-level and GCSE exam successes. We are asking schools to respond to a few quick questions as soon as possible – on August 18 for A-levels and August 25 for GCSEs.
www.guardian.co.uk/gcse-results-2011
www.guardian.co.uk/a-level-results-2011
No special login is needed.
We want to tell our readers how well your pupils have performed: please get ready to tell us.
We are asking schools to tell us about their A-level and GCSE results online
This summer, the Guardian is asking schools to tell us all about their A-level and GCSE exam successes. We are asking schools to respond to a few quick questions as soon as possible – on August 18 for A-levels and August 25 for GCSEs.
www.guardian.co.uk/gcse-results-2011
www.guardian.co.uk/a-level-results-2011
No special login is needed.
We want to tell our readers how well your pupils have performed: please get ready to tell us.
Last July, year 6 pupils told Education Guardian how they felt as they looked forward to starting secondary school. A year on, how have they got on? Have their hopes and fears been realised?
Moving up to "big school" is a worrying prospect for all 11-year-olds. But for children in one of the 36 local authorities that still have selective education, it can be even more daunting. These children also have the 11-plus examination to contend with and the subsequent divide between those who will go to grammar school and those who won't.
Last summer, we met a group of year 6 children who were about to leave St Saviour's primary in Westgate-on-Sea in Kent. They told us about their hopes and fears for the future. Two were off to grammar and three to a non-selective high school. A year on, how are they faring?
Last year Gabriel said: 'If I get a detention my dad will kill me.'
I'm not the most organised person, so I was a bit worried about how I would cope with the homework at secondary school. There's supposed to be a homework timetable, but the teachers don't always stick to it. One night, we got six subjects.
There's a pass mark for most pieces of work we do, and if you get less than 70% you have to do a retest. So far I've managed to keep up. I've also avoided getting any detentions, which my dad wouldn't have been happy about at all.
There are a few naughty students here, and a handful who struggle with the pace of the work, but generally people just get on with it. If someone gets a really good mark, we go "Bod" or "Bodrick", which means they are really clever. People are proud of doing well here and few misbehave. A few of the older boys sometimes try and trip me and my friends up, for a laugh, but that's really about as bad as it gets.
I'm not sure I would have achieved as much as I have this year if I wasn't in a grammar school. They are always trying to push you that extra mile. The kids here are also lucky because their parents generally help them revise for tests and exams – not all children get that support from their parents.
Alex Hampton-Saint, Gabriel's father
We've seen a massive change in Gabriel this year, particularly in his first term at Dane Court, when he seemed to do an awful lot of growing up. He's really thrown himself into school life, joining the Glee club and getting involved with the school production of Grease.
As parents, the biggest challenge has been keeping on top of the homework. Gabriel isn't great at writing down work he's been set, so his homework diary can be a bit vague. The level of work is quite challenging too, and we've had to brush up on some subjects – maths particularly – so we can help him if he gets stuck.
Last year Ellie said: 'In secondary schools on TV there is always bullying, people taking other's lunch money, teachers shouting and lots of chaos.'
When I started at King Ethelbert, getting to school was the worst bit. I didn't like the bus. The other children were bigger than me, and just too loud and pushy. Now I walk or get a lift from my mum.
I'd heard that lots of horrible things go on at secondary schools, like bullying, but it hasn't been as bad as I thought. Some of the boys in my class call me names, but it doesn't bother me too much. It's the sort of thing that goes on at every secondary school. It's part of life and you have to learn to deal with it.
I was worried we might get a lot of homework, but I think we actually got more in primary school. We tend to do projects that last a few weeks rather than individual subjects, which is easier to manage.
We've been on some great trips this year, including London and Disneyland, Paris. I like dancing and I've taken part in two school shows, including a production of We Will Rock You. That was quite scary at first, as I was one of the youngest performers, but some of the older ones kind of take you under their wing.
I do have times when I wish I could be back in the safety of my old primary school, but most days I feel ok.
Angela Perry-Taylor, Ellie's mother
We visited King Ethelbert several times last summer as part of the school's transition programme and the head said that often the parents are more nervous about the move than the children. I think that's definitely the case with us.
We've been surprised at how well Ellie has settled into her new school. Apart from a couple of hiccups in the first few weeks – mainly because Ellie didn't like the school bus – it's been absolutely fine.
The most difficult thing to get used to has been having less contact with staff. When Ellie was at primary school, I felt I could pop in at any time to speak to the teacher. Now I have to phone the school and wait for someone to call me back. I imagine it's how all secondary schools work, but I do find it frustrating sometimes.
Last year Cameron said: 'I'm worried whether I'll take the right books on the right days.'
I wasn't happy in the first class I was put in as some of the children were quite naughty. At the end of the first term, I asked to be moved to a different class. I'm much happier now.
At my old school, I was bullied at lot because I was quiet, but I have made some really good friends here. I'm not an outdoors person, so I go to skills club, which is a lunchtime activity group for people like me who don't like anything too noisy. We play board games and talk, and I've made friends from all different year groups.
Everyone has mobile phones and Facebook accounts now, so bullying doesn't just happen in school. Bad kids will try and bully you online. I just ignore it and type "go away" and click off the site.
I think I've definitely got much louder since I started secondary school. I'm quite sporty and have enjoyed trying out rounders, basketball, American football and baseball in PE lessons.
Barry Millen, Cameron's father
We were a bit worried when Cameron started secondary school as we had recently found out he might have traits of autism. He likes routine and we were worried how we might cope in a much bigger school, with lots of different teachers.
But he has really surprised us. He has coped well with the changes, and walking to school every day has made him feel much more independent.
Cameron was initially put in a class with a few boisterous characters, which made him feel very uncomfortable, and we are proud of the way he raised his concerns with the school. He still needs a nudge about doing homework, but has matured at an incredible pace during the year.
Last year Tayla said: 'I'm worried I might get lost.'
On my first day at Dane Court, I thought I'd never find my way around the school in a million years. After a week, I knew exactly where everything was.
In the first few months, some of the older pupils would tease us a bit about being the youngest in the school, but that's pretty much stopped now.
After being one of the brainiest pupils at my primary school, it was a bit of a shock meeting people who were much cleverer than me. I'm still in the top half of my year, but some people don't have to revise and they still seem to get good marks.
It's competitive here, but not in a nasty way. If someone is doing really well, it motivates you to do better. I want to be a barrister or a judge when I leave school, so I know I need to work really hard.
I don't miss primary school at all. I have a new routine and new friends. It's brilliant.
Nicola Gaspa, Tayla's mother
I'm really pleased with the way Tayla has settled in. She is really enthusiastic about school – even the homework. It's quite a pressurised envronment and the pupils are pushed as far as they can go, but I think she can handle it.
There have been teething problems, though. Although Tayla has made friends, there have been a few issues with a couple of the girls, but the school is very much on top of it. It only seems like yesterday that Tayla was at primary school. Now at weekends, she is going shopping with friends or to the cinema. I can't believe how grown up she is.
Last year Lewis said: 'I'm a bit scared. I've never been on a bus on my own. I might get off at the wrong stop or older kids might say bad things or swear.'
Hardly any of my friends from primary school came with me to King Ethelbert, so I was worried I would be on my own. But I went up to people and said "Hi, my name is Lewis, what's yours?" I made five friends on the first day.
I was also worried about getting dressed for PE in the boys' changing rooms, with loads of people I didn't know. Now I'm at the end of year 7, it's hard to believe I was ever worried about something like that.
Secondary school gives you experience of what is going to happen in the big wide world, where you won't have teachers and friends holding your hand all the time. It can be hard, but it toughens you up for life.
When you're outside playing football, people can get a bit rough and push you out of the way and there aren't many teachers and dinner ladies around to go to if you're in trouble. If you do tell, people snitch on you for telling tales and take the mick out of you.
I had a few people calling me "four eyes" because I wear glasses. I started leaving them at home, but I couldn't see too well, so I had to start wearing them again. Now I just ignore the comments.
My advice to children in year 6 starting secondary school is not to worry about what people think. Some of the older pupils might bug you a bit, but if you ignore it they'll get bored eventually.
I'd also say: don't be afraid to put up your hand in class. And don't be mean to the teachers because that's not very nice. Most of all, have fun at school — it's not a torture chamber.
Jo Baker, Lewis's mother
Lewis was worried about walking to school by himself, so I walked some of the journey with him at first, but he's much more confident now.
He has complained of a bit of teasing from others in his year group, but I am trying to encourage him to stand up for himself. He is much more willing to stand his ground with other children now.
When I went to the open evening, Lewis's head of year said he was really proud of how he had settled in and all that he had achieved. I couldn't have been more pleased.
Last July, year 6 pupils told Education Guardian how they felt as they looked forward to starting secondary school. A year on, how have they got on? Have their hopes and fears been realised?
Moving up to "big school" is a worrying prospect for all 11-year-olds. But for children in one of the 36 local authorities that still have selective education, it can be even more daunting. These children also have the 11-plus examination to contend with and the subsequent divide between those who will go to grammar school and those who won't.
Last summer, we met a group of year 6 children who were about to leave St Saviour's primary in Westgate-on-Sea in Kent. They told us about their hopes and fears for the future. Two were off to grammar and three to a non-selective high school. A year on, how are they faring?
Last year Gabriel said: 'If I get a detention my dad will kill me.'
I'm not the most organised person, so I was a bit worried about how I would cope with the homework at secondary school. There's supposed to be a homework timetable, but the teachers don't always stick to it. One night, we got six subjects.
There's a pass mark for most pieces of work we do, and if you get less than 70% you have to do a retest. So far I've managed to keep up. I've also avoided getting any detentions, which my dad wouldn't have been happy about at all.
There are a few naughty students here, and a handful who struggle with the pace of the work, but generally people just get on with it. If someone gets a really good mark, we go "Bod" or "Bodrick", which means they are really clever. People are proud of doing well here and few misbehave. A few of the older boys sometimes try and trip me and my friends up, for a laugh, but that's really about as bad as it gets.
I'm not sure I would have achieved as much as I have this year if I wasn't in a grammar school. They are always trying to push you that extra mile. The kids here are also lucky because their parents generally help them revise for tests and exams – not all children get that support from their parents.
Alex Hampton-Saint, Gabriel's father
We've seen a massive change in Gabriel this year, particularly in his first term at Dane Court, when he seemed to do an awful lot of growing up. He's really thrown himself into school life, joining the Glee club and getting involved with the school production of Grease.
As parents, the biggest challenge has been keeping on top of the homework. Gabriel isn't great at writing down work he's been set, so his homework diary can be a bit vague. The level of work is quite challenging too, and we've had to brush up on some subjects – maths particularly – so we can help him if he gets stuck.
Last year Ellie said: 'In secondary schools on TV there is always bullying, people taking other's lunch money, teachers shouting and lots of chaos.'
When I started at King Ethelbert, getting to school was the worst bit. I didn't like the bus. The other children were bigger than me, and just too loud and pushy. Now I walk or get a lift from my mum.
I'd heard that lots of horrible things go on at secondary schools, like bullying, but it hasn't been as bad as I thought. Some of the boys in my class call me names, but it doesn't bother me too much. It's the sort of thing that goes on at every secondary school. It's part of life and you have to learn to deal with it.
I was worried we might get a lot of homework, but I think we actually got more in primary school. We tend to do projects that last a few weeks rather than individual subjects, which is easier to manage.
We've been on some great trips this year, including London and Disneyland, Paris. I like dancing and I've taken part in two school shows, including a production of We Will Rock You. That was quite scary at first, as I was one of the youngest performers, but some of the older ones kind of take you under their wing.
I do have times when I wish I could be back in the safety of my old primary school, but most days I feel ok.
Angela Perry-Taylor, Ellie's mother
We visited King Ethelbert several times last summer as part of the school's transition programme and the head said that often the parents are more nervous about the move than the children. I think that's definitely the case with us.
We've been surprised at how well Ellie has settled into her new school. Apart from a couple of hiccups in the first few weeks – mainly because Ellie didn't like the school bus – it's been absolutely fine.
The most difficult thing to get used to has been having less contact with staff. When Ellie was at primary school, I felt I could pop in at any time to speak to the teacher. Now I have to phone the school and wait for someone to call me back. I imagine it's how all secondary schools work, but I do find it frustrating sometimes.
Last year Cameron said: 'I'm worried whether I'll take the right books on the right days.'
I wasn't happy in the first class I was put in as some of the children were quite naughty. At the end of the first term, I asked to be moved to a different class. I'm much happier now.
At my old school, I was bullied at lot because I was quiet, but I have made some really good friends here. I'm not an outdoors person, so I go to skills club, which is a lunchtime activity group for people like me who don't like anything too noisy. We play board games and talk, and I've made friends from all different year groups.
Everyone has mobile phones and Facebook accounts now, so bullying doesn't just happen in school. Bad kids will try and bully you online. I just ignore it and type "go away" and click off the site.
I think I've definitely got much louder since I started secondary school. I'm quite sporty and have enjoyed trying out rounders, basketball, American football and baseball in PE lessons.
Barry Millen, Cameron's father
We were a bit worried when Cameron started secondary school as we had recently found out he might have traits of autism. He likes routine and we were worried how we might cope in a much bigger school, with lots of different teachers.
But he has really surprised us. He has coped well with the changes, and walking to school every day has made him feel much more independent.
Cameron was initially put in a class with a few boisterous characters, which made him feel very uncomfortable, and we are proud of the way he raised his concerns with the school. He still needs a nudge about doing homework, but has matured at an incredible pace during the year.
Last year Tayla said: 'I'm worried I might get lost.'
On my first day at Dane Court, I thought I'd never find my way around the school in a million years. After a week, I knew exactly where everything was.
In the first few months, some of the older pupils would tease us a bit about being the youngest in the school, but that's pretty much stopped now.
After being one of the brainiest pupils at my primary school, it was a bit of a shock meeting people who were much cleverer than me. I'm still in the top half of my year, but some people don't have to revise and they still seem to get good marks.
It's competitive here, but not in a nasty way. If someone is doing really well, it motivates you to do better. I want to be a barrister or a judge when I leave school, so I know I need to work really hard.
I don't miss primary school at all. I have a new routine and new friends. It's brilliant.
Nicola Gaspa, Tayla's mother
I'm really pleased with the way Tayla has settled in. She is really enthusiastic about school – even the homework. It's quite a pressurised envronment and the pupils are pushed as far as they can go, but I think she can handle it.
There have been teething problems, though. Although Tayla has made friends, there have been a few issues with a couple of the girls, but the school is very much on top of it. It only seems like yesterday that Tayla was at primary school. Now at weekends, she is going shopping with friends or to the cinema. I can't believe how grown up she is.
Last year Lewis said: 'I'm a bit scared. I've never been on a bus on my own. I might get off at the wrong stop or older kids might say bad things or swear.'
Hardly any of my friends from primary school came with me to King Ethelbert, so I was worried I would be on my own. But I went up to people and said "Hi, my name is Lewis, what's yours?" I made five friends on the first day.
I was also worried about getting dressed for PE in the boys' changing rooms, with loads of people I didn't know. Now I'm at the end of year 7, it's hard to believe I was ever worried about something like that.
Secondary school gives you experience of what is going to happen in the big wide world, where you won't have teachers and friends holding your hand all the time. It can be hard, but it toughens you up for life.
When you're outside playing football, people can get a bit rough and push you out of the way and there aren't many teachers and dinner ladies around to go to if you're in trouble. If you do tell, people snitch on you for telling tales and take the mick out of you.
I had a few people calling me "four eyes" because I wear glasses. I started leaving them at home, but I couldn't see too well, so I had to start wearing them again. Now I just ignore the comments.
My advice to children in year 6 starting secondary school is not to worry about what people think. Some of the older pupils might bug you a bit, but if you ignore it they'll get bored eventually.
I'd also say: don't be afraid to put up your hand in class. And don't be mean to the teachers because that's not very nice. Most of all, have fun at school — it's not a torture chamber.
Jo Baker, Lewis's mother
Lewis was worried about walking to school by himself, so I walked some of the journey with him at first, but he's much more confident now.
He has complained of a bit of teasing from others in his year group, but I am trying to encourage him to stand up for himself. He is much more willing to stand his ground with other children now.
When I went to the open evening, Lewis's head of year said he was really proud of how he had settled in and all that he had achieved. I couldn't have been more pleased.
Universities' access targets are published today. But some question the ethics of widening participation
An assumption lies behind universities' agreements with the Office for Fair Access, published today. Over months of negotiations about whether institutions had done enough to attract students from underrepresented groups, and therefore earned the right to charge fees of £9,000, one issue was never in doubt – that encouraging these students into higher education was a good thing.
But a seminar to be held on Thursday by the Society for Research in Higher Education will question that assumption, suggesting not only that the policy of so-called widening participation may be wrong, but that it could be unethical.
It is a debate that has been rumbling since the widening participation agenda came to the fore under New Labour. But it has gained new impetus from recent changes to funding that will leave most graduates thousands of pounds in debt and in increased competition for graduate jobs; figures released last month showed that 83 graduates were chasing every vacancy, up from 69 in 2010.
"What I find unethical is pushing them into university at 18 to 21, allowing them to believe that that will put them in as good a position as more advantaged kids," argues Michael Watts, freelance researcher and affiliated lecturer at the University of Cambridge's faculty of education, and one of the speakers at the seminar. "There will always be exceptions to the rule, but for the majority it won't happen like that."
He argues that the best jobs and salaries will still tend to go to those who enjoyed the most social and financial support before they went to university, and that higher education is not the only means of achieving well-being.
Jacqueline Stevenson, reader in widening participation at Leeds Metropolitan University, who is also addressing the seminar, says: "A lot of the widening participation agenda is about class and working-class social mobility. I'm saying stop and think. Is it ethical to intervene? Are we engaged in a sort of 'Educating Rita' process?"
Her job demonstrates that she is committed to the idea of more, and more diverse, people benefiting from higher education, she says, but she believes that both government and individual institutions need to think through some of the issues, including whether people are being forced to conform to middle-class definitions of success.
Research carried out by Alasdair Forsyth and Andy Furlong at the University of Glasgow in the last 10 years has shown that students from lower socio-economic groups are more likely than their more advantaged peers to change courses, drop out because of debt or repeat a year, and less likely to achieve a degree or progress to post-degree study.
Stevenson says: "Before we rush down the route of saying 'you can come here, you will benefit, it's wonderful', we have to consider: are we setting them up to fail?"
It is a question others have been asking, too. Spencer Mehlman, managing director of the website notgoingtouni.com – set up two-and-a-half years ago to promote alternatives to higher education – says: "We think too many are pushed towards university when, with the current fee structure and state of the economy, unless you are doing the right degree in the right subject and you are going to get the right grade at the right university, it may not be worthwhile." He suggests that for some people, distance learning or an apprenticeship could be a better option and asks whether it is morally right to impose high debt levels on young people when they could reach their goals through other, cheaper, routes.
Lee Elliot Major, director of research and policy at the Sutton Trust, which aims to improve educational opportunities for young people from non-privileged backgrounds, agrees that students need to be more discriminating about their courses, and acknowledges that more needs to be done to support non-traditional students while they are at university. But he says lives can be transformed by higher education and calls it "deeply patronising" to suggest that people from less privileged backgrounds should not be encouraged to take up that opportunity.
Holly Threlfall, in her third year of a four-year course in law and Australian law at Nottingham University, would agree. She got her place after attending a summer school run by the university and the Sutton Trust.
Neither of her parents are graduates, and she never considered that a Russell Group university would be open to her, but the summer school made her believe it was possible.
"Once you get here, you mix with loads of different people and the doors keep opening and keep opening," she says. For example, she is able to tap into the contacts the law school has with a huge variety of legal employers.
The applications process for a bursary gave her a good idea of what studying at the university would be like, she says, and was more competitive than the standard applications process for some courses.
"I would promote university to anybody," she says. "I think it's an amazing opportunity."
According to David Woolley, deputy head of widening participation at Nottingham, students who have attended the university's outreach programmes and summer schools tend to get slightly better degree classifications than the more traditional students.
But even if a student from a disadvantaged background did not do so well, they would still generally be doing better than one who did not go to university, and would benefit from the connections they made there, argues Fiona Devine, professor of sociology at Manchester, who is researching working-class disadvantage in education and employment. She adds that university is not the end of the story – graduates from any background still have to prove themselves in the workplace.
"I am the daughter of a postman," she says. "My initial experience of HE was to be quite daunted by it all, but people get through these things and I did have a good time. I did OK afterwards, too, I guess!"
Universities' access targets are published today. But some question the ethics of widening participation
An assumption lies behind universities' agreements with the Office for Fair Access, published today. Over months of negotiations about whether institutions had done enough to attract students from underrepresented groups, and therefore earned the right to charge fees of £9,000, one issue was never in doubt – that encouraging these students into higher education was a good thing.
But a seminar to be held on Thursday by the Society for Research in Higher Education will question that assumption, suggesting not only that the policy of so-called widening participation may be wrong, but that it could be unethical.
It is a debate that has been rumbling since the widening participation agenda came to the fore under New Labour. But it has gained new impetus from recent changes to funding that will leave most graduates thousands of pounds in debt and in increased competition for graduate jobs; figures released last month showed that 83 graduates were chasing every vacancy, up from 69 in 2010.
"What I find unethical is pushing them into university at 18 to 21, allowing them to believe that that will put them in as good a position as more advantaged kids," argues Michael Watts, freelance researcher and affiliated lecturer at the University of Cambridge's faculty of education, and one of the speakers at the seminar. "There will always be exceptions to the rule, but for the majority it won't happen like that."
He argues that the best jobs and salaries will still tend to go to those who enjoyed the most social and financial support before they went to university, and that higher education is not the only means of achieving well-being.
Jacqueline Stevenson, reader in widening participation at Leeds Metropolitan University, who is also addressing the seminar, says: "A lot of the widening participation agenda is about class and working-class social mobility. I'm saying stop and think. Is it ethical to intervene? Are we engaged in a sort of 'Educating Rita' process?"
Her job demonstrates that she is committed to the idea of more, and more diverse, people benefiting from higher education, she says, but she believes that both government and individual institutions need to think through some of the issues, including whether people are being forced to conform to middle-class definitions of success.
Research carried out by Alasdair Forsyth and Andy Furlong at the University of Glasgow in the last 10 years has shown that students from lower socio-economic groups are more likely than their more advantaged peers to change courses, drop out because of debt or repeat a year, and less likely to achieve a degree or progress to post-degree study.
Stevenson says: "Before we rush down the route of saying 'you can come here, you will benefit, it's wonderful', we have to consider: are we setting them up to fail?"
It is a question others have been asking, too. Spencer Mehlman, managing director of the website notgoingtouni.com – set up two-and-a-half years ago to promote alternatives to higher education – says: "We think too many are pushed towards university when, with the current fee structure and state of the economy, unless you are doing the right degree in the right subject and you are going to get the right grade at the right university, it may not be worthwhile." He suggests that for some people, distance learning or an apprenticeship could be a better option and asks whether it is morally right to impose high debt levels on young people when they could reach their goals through other, cheaper, routes.
Lee Elliot Major, director of research and policy at the Sutton Trust, which aims to improve educational opportunities for young people from non-privileged backgrounds, agrees that students need to be more discriminating about their courses, and acknowledges that more needs to be done to support non-traditional students while they are at university. But he says lives can be transformed by higher education and calls it "deeply patronising" to suggest that people from less privileged backgrounds should not be encouraged to take up that opportunity.
Holly Threlfall, in her third year of a four-year course in law and Australian law at Nottingham University, would agree. She got her place after attending a summer school run by the university and the Sutton Trust.
Neither of her parents are graduates, and she never considered that a Russell Group university would be open to her, but the summer school made her believe it was possible.
"Once you get here, you mix with loads of different people and the doors keep opening and keep opening," she says. For example, she is able to tap into the contacts the law school has with a huge variety of legal employers.
The applications process for a bursary gave her a good idea of what studying at the university would be like, she says, and was more competitive than the standard applications process for some courses.
"I would promote university to anybody," she says. "I think it's an amazing opportunity."
According to David Woolley, deputy head of widening participation at Nottingham, students who have attended the university's outreach programmes and summer schools tend to get slightly better degree classifications than the more traditional students.
But even if a student from a disadvantaged background did not do so well, they would still generally be doing better than one who did not go to university, and would benefit from the connections they made there, argues Fiona Devine, professor of sociology at Manchester, who is researching working-class disadvantage in education and employment. She adds that university is not the end of the story – graduates from any background still have to prove themselves in the workplace.
"I am the daughter of a postman," she says. "My initial experience of HE was to be quite daunted by it all, but people get through these things and I did have a good time. I did OK afterwards, too, I guess!"
Free schools are just a new tier of subtly different schools grafted on to the existing hierarchy, says Fiona Millar. Eventually local authorities will be reinvented to restore order
Some years ago, I was invited by Channel 4 to make a film about parent choice. Travelling around the country was an eye-opener. The public debate may have been about monolithic, bog-standard uniformity, but on the ground the diverse, hierarchical nature of English education was plain to see.
One day remains lodged in my mind. After a morning filming at the country's top fee-paying school, Westminster, we moved barely a mile across the Thames to visit Lilian Baylis school. It had recently been subject to a very public naming and shaming after Oliver Letwin, then a prominent opposition spokesman, announced he would rather "beg" in the streets than send his children there.
The difference between the two schools was stark. In the first, the capital's privileged youth were educated in exclusive splendour. At Lilian Baylis the bleak physical environment was as challenging as the intake. Over 70% of pupils were eligible for free school meals, the number of pupils from refugee families and on the child protection register were way above average and the GCSE results were way below. But inside the gloomy building, something exciting was happening. A feisty and inspiring young head was resolutely tackling the school's problems to give his pupils a better chance.
Over the years, I have been back to Lilian Baylis several times. The school is now in a light, airy new building, courtesy of the Labour government's now derided building programme. The intake remains similar, but its reputation has been re-built thanks to steadily improving results and a good Ofsted report, which judged the head's, Gary Phillips, leadership as "exemplary". The school is a touchstone for what has been achieved over the last 10 years.
But now a new "free" school is being proposed on Lilian Baylis's doorstep. It has a slick website oozing all the usual buzzwords – tradition, character, high aspirations, excellent teaching.
There is no way of knowing whether these new schools will actually deliver on their grandiose claims since most haven't appointed teachers, let alone admitted their first pupils. In countries where this experiment has been tried, there have been as many failures as successes.
London teacher Laura McInerney, in an excellent little pamphlet, Six Predictable Failures of Free Schools and How to Avoid Them, has probed why that is. She discovered that most were set up too quickly, not in collaboration with other local schools, and borne out of a misguided belief that they would somehow be better and different. In the real world of parents, teachers and pupils, rather than the virtual world of spin and promises, they found they had to cope with the same problems as everyone else.
It is possible, indeed likely, that some of these starry-eyed idealists will find themselves at the end of a very long bargepole wielded by a future Tory politician in years to come, or scrabbling around for resources when the next group of local parents pops up wanting something more special and different and a future secretary of state judges that they too should be given "more choice".
But the overall system won't be any better. What we are seeing is simply a new tier of subtly differentiated schools being grafted on to the existing hierarchy, at the bottom of which Lilian Baylis found itself in 2003. Only, now, there is the added complication that many will be answerable only to the secretary of state, or the shadowy chains that run them, with local authority power correspondingly diminished
Shortly after making the Channel 4 film, I was at a dinner with one of the early academy headteachers. After 10 minutes of arguing the merits, or otherwise, of "independent" state schools, he joked: "In the end, we will probably have to reinvent local authorities."
I suspect that point will come sooner rather than later, as the real effect of setting schools (and parents) against each other in this way starts to emerge – and, remember, a key Cameron ally, Nick Boles, admitted early on that creating "chaos" might be a good thing.
The smart politician (and Labour's Andy Burnham shows signs of understanding this) will be the one who starts developing ideas about how to hold the ring on issues like place planning, admissions, SEN, exclusions and fair access, once local systems have well and truly broken down. It is regrettable, not least for the children involved, that things may need to get worse before they get better, but order will not arise out of chaos without a helping hand.
www.localschoolsnetwork.org.uk
Free schools are just a new tier of subtly different schools grafted on to the existing hierarchy, says Fiona Millar. Eventually local authorities will be reinvented to restore order
Some years ago, I was invited by Channel 4 to make a film about parent choice. Travelling around the country was an eye-opener. The public debate may have been about monolithic, bog-standard uniformity, but on the ground the diverse, hierarchical nature of English education was plain to see.
One day remains lodged in my mind. After a morning filming at the country's top fee-paying school, Westminster, we moved barely a mile across the Thames to visit Lilian Baylis school. It had recently been subject to a very public naming and shaming after Oliver Letwin, then a prominent opposition spokesman, announced he would rather "beg" in the streets than send his children there.
The difference between the two schools was stark. In the first, the capital's privileged youth were educated in exclusive splendour. At Lilian Baylis the bleak physical environment was as challenging as the intake. Over 70% of pupils were eligible for free school meals, the number of pupils from refugee families and on the child protection register were way above average and the GCSE results were way below. But inside the gloomy building, something exciting was happening. A feisty and inspiring young head was resolutely tackling the school's problems to give his pupils a better chance.
Over the years, I have been back to Lilian Baylis several times. The school is now in a light, airy new building, courtesy of the Labour government's now derided building programme. The intake remains similar, but its reputation has been re-built thanks to steadily improving results and a good Ofsted report, which judged the head's, Gary Phillips, leadership as "exemplary". The school is a touchstone for what has been achieved over the last 10 years.
But now a new "free" school is being proposed on Lilian Baylis's doorstep. It has a slick website oozing all the usual buzzwords – tradition, character, high aspirations, excellent teaching.
There is no way of knowing whether these new schools will actually deliver on their grandiose claims since most haven't appointed teachers, let alone admitted their first pupils. In countries where this experiment has been tried, there have been as many failures as successes.
London teacher Laura McInerney, in an excellent little pamphlet, Six Predictable Failures of Free Schools and How to Avoid Them, has probed why that is. She discovered that most were set up too quickly, not in collaboration with other local schools, and borne out of a misguided belief that they would somehow be better and different. In the real world of parents, teachers and pupils, rather than the virtual world of spin and promises, they found they had to cope with the same problems as everyone else.
It is possible, indeed likely, that some of these starry-eyed idealists will find themselves at the end of a very long bargepole wielded by a future Tory politician in years to come, or scrabbling around for resources when the next group of local parents pops up wanting something more special and different and a future secretary of state judges that they too should be given "more choice".
But the overall system won't be any better. What we are seeing is simply a new tier of subtly differentiated schools being grafted on to the existing hierarchy, at the bottom of which Lilian Baylis found itself in 2003. Only, now, there is the added complication that many will be answerable only to the secretary of state, or the shadowy chains that run them, with local authority power correspondingly diminished
Shortly after making the Channel 4 film, I was at a dinner with one of the early academy headteachers. After 10 minutes of arguing the merits, or otherwise, of "independent" state schools, he joked: "In the end, we will probably have to reinvent local authorities."
I suspect that point will come sooner rather than later, as the real effect of setting schools (and parents) against each other in this way starts to emerge – and, remember, a key Cameron ally, Nick Boles, admitted early on that creating "chaos" might be a good thing.
The smart politician (and Labour's Andy Burnham shows signs of understanding this) will be the one who starts developing ideas about how to hold the ring on issues like place planning, admissions, SEN, exclusions and fair access, once local systems have well and truly broken down. It is regrettable, not least for the children involved, that things may need to get worse before they get better, but order will not arise out of chaos without a helping hand.
www.localschoolsnetwork.org.uk
Cuts to funding will hit disadvantaged young people the hardest, as colleges may be the only place they can learn and develop important life skills, says Sue Rimmer
With the long summer break looming, students are looking forward to the escape. For many, however, it is a dreadful prospect – the return to run-down estates with nothing to do, and where they don't even feel safe.
At South Thames College, we have seen the tensions grow in recent years among the disadvantaged and disaffected – and we have offered an alternative culture, a safe haven. This is no soft option, but a rigorous offering of incentives, enrichment activities, healthy and safe-living programmes, sports competitions, volunteering and young leadership schemes that middle-class kids take for granted – activities we recently extended into the summer months.
Like universities, colleges are not just exam factories. Middle-class teenagers get two years in the sixth form and three years at university, and we accept that they need that space. For our young people, college is the only space they get.
We provide a safe environment where young people learn, gain employment skills and make the transition to adulthood. It is where our youth workers watch for signs of trouble, and where all our staff go the extra mile over and above anything explicitly in the curriculum. From this has grown an awards scheme – gold, silver and bronze – points for voluntary work, for being a course rep etc, so they can see the connections between achievement and reward.
We were expecting cuts; we weren't expecting them to do what they did to education maintenance allowances or to tutorial entitlements – down from 114 to 30 funded hours a year. Funds such as EMAs were not just given away, they were dependent on attending classes, on time – a huge incentive to achieve.
We are looking to see what we can fund, co-operating with other services. The problem is that youth clubs and other outlets are closing, support from outside is beginning to crumble, leaving young people more isolated than ever. As they cut services outside college, there is nowhere else for them to go.
It raises serious questions about what we mean when we talk about educational entitlements. There was an outcry over the cuts, but we have only seen the first bit of money taken. What happens when it is all taken away over three years? I am using the work we do to build evidence in support of this funding and identify what sources we can tap into. Meeting the needs of young people at risk of social exclusion must be a major platform of Learning and Skills Improvement Service support.
It is not just that young people are bored on estates; they are genuinely frightened. Gang rape is an issue coming up more in conversations with police, and we are aware of girls getting involved in gang activities. There is an increase in the number of mental-health issues, drugs, homelessness and sofa surfing. There are problems with girls' self-image and levels of violence from boys that seem to be seen as acceptable.
In some ways, we are the last safety net. If we don't catch them as they go into adulthood, they are lost. They deserve that opportunity and support. Without it, they would not carry on coming to college. I see young people arrive with barely a level 1 qualification and progress to a degree because of the extra support. It is a cheap investment, because of the payback to society. They are bright, talented young people and we should not be wasting their lives.
• Sue Rimmer is principal of South Thames College and a council member of the Learning and Skills Improvement Service
Cuts to funding will hit disadvantaged young people the hardest, as colleges may be the only place they can learn and develop important life skills, says Sue Rimmer
With the long summer break looming, students are looking forward to the escape. For many, however, it is a dreadful prospect – the return to run-down estates with nothing to do, and where they don't even feel safe.
At South Thames College, we have seen the tensions grow in recent years among the disadvantaged and disaffected – and we have offered an alternative culture, a safe haven. This is no soft option, but a rigorous offering of incentives, enrichment activities, healthy and safe-living programmes, sports competitions, volunteering and young leadership schemes that middle-class kids take for granted – activities we recently extended into the summer months.
Like universities, colleges are not just exam factories. Middle-class teenagers get two years in the sixth form and three years at university, and we accept that they need that space. For our young people, college is the only space they get.
We provide a safe environment where young people learn, gain employment skills and make the transition to adulthood. It is where our youth workers watch for signs of trouble, and where all our staff go the extra mile over and above anything explicitly in the curriculum. From this has grown an awards scheme – gold, silver and bronze – points for voluntary work, for being a course rep etc, so they can see the connections between achievement and reward.
We were expecting cuts; we weren't expecting them to do what they did to education maintenance allowances or to tutorial entitlements – down from 114 to 30 funded hours a year. Funds such as EMAs were not just given away, they were dependent on attending classes, on time – a huge incentive to achieve.
We are looking to see what we can fund, co-operating with other services. The problem is that youth clubs and other outlets are closing, support from outside is beginning to crumble, leaving young people more isolated than ever. As they cut services outside college, there is nowhere else for them to go.
It raises serious questions about what we mean when we talk about educational entitlements. There was an outcry over the cuts, but we have only seen the first bit of money taken. What happens when it is all taken away over three years? I am using the work we do to build evidence in support of this funding and identify what sources we can tap into. Meeting the needs of young people at risk of social exclusion must be a major platform of Learning and Skills Improvement Service support.
It is not just that young people are bored on estates; they are genuinely frightened. Gang rape is an issue coming up more in conversations with police, and we are aware of girls getting involved in gang activities. There is an increase in the number of mental-health issues, drugs, homelessness and sofa surfing. There are problems with girls' self-image and levels of violence from boys that seem to be seen as acceptable.
In some ways, we are the last safety net. If we don't catch them as they go into adulthood, they are lost. They deserve that opportunity and support. Without it, they would not carry on coming to college. I see young people arrive with barely a level 1 qualification and progress to a degree because of the extra support. It is a cheap investment, because of the payback to society. They are bright, talented young people and we should not be wasting their lives.
• Sue Rimmer is principal of South Thames College and a council member of the Learning and Skills Improvement Service
Headteachers fear their targets may be missed thanks to what some say is 'appalling' Sats marking
News last week that a government report had recommended scrapping writing tests for 11-year-olds should have been music to the ears of teachers, some of whom have long campaigned against exams for primary children. But before they could savour the moment, many found themselves embroiled in problems over the marking of this year's national curriculum tests, known as Sats. Headteachers and their staff are spending a busy week preparing to lodge appeals with Edexcel, the exam board, by the deadline on Friday.
After receiving an unprecedented number of calls from headteachers, the National Association of Head Teachers carried out a poll of its members. Within 24 hours, 720 of the 954 respondents said they were experiencing problems. Over 30% said the difficulties were "moderate," 28% "severe" and 13% "outrageous"; 93% reported problems with the writing part of the test. The test, taken by year 6 pupils every May, doesn't just test accuracy; children must show they can write in a range of genres and for different audiences.
But heads say that this year's markers have put too much emphasis on handwriting and spelling and not enough on the composition, sentence structure and use of punctuation.
Tony Draper, headteacher of Water Hall primary in Milton Keynes (and NAHT national executive member), says the marking is "absolutely appalling".
Nine of his pupils predicted to achieve level 4 (a standard expected from the majority of pupils leaving primary school) were graded at level 3. Two pupils, deemed by teachers to have produced work of level 5 standard, were graded level 4.
One paper (seen on this page), which Draper describes as showing "real flair and imagination for a 10-year-old", was awarded just 13 out of 31 marks (a level 3) by an external assessor, with particularly low scores for handwriting and "text structure and organisation". Draper believes it should have been awarded 20, an opinion verified by a local authority assessment consultant, which would mean an overall grading of level 4. "It's ridiculous, particularly the judgment on handwriting, because it is perfectly legible and sitting on the lines," he says. "I can't help thinking the examiner didn't like the fact there were crossings-out, but we teach our children to edit their work as they go along, and surely that is good practice."
And that is not the only thing Draper isn't impressed by. In five cases, the number of marks had been added up incorrectly by the marker – in one case resulting in a difference of five points out of a possible 30.
Draper is sending 11 out of the 31 papers back to be reviewed. This isn't cheap; schools have to pay £9 for each script re-marked and only get their money back if their appeal is successful.
Maggie Parker, headteacher at Tameside school near Manchester, calls the marking "disastrous". Over 90% of her pupils were predicted to get level 4 grades, and as the current marks stand, just 63% achieved this. She is planning to send back around 10 of the 52 papers taken. "It seems as if they (the marker) have just given the papers a cursory glance," she complains.
Paul Gabriel, headteacher at Lancaster Road primary in Morecambe, agrees. "It's as if the person marking it was watching the telly at the same time." He is planning to send back 14 of 60 scripts.
Over at Tickford Park primary, in Milton Keynes, Ann Tobia is also bemused. She is planning to send back 15 out of 41 scripts, after just 23 out of 51 students achieved level 4 grades (the school had predicted 43). She says: "My teachers are experienced, accurate markers, so in previous years their predictions have been spot on. This year's scripts look as if they have been marked by a child, with load of crossings-out and parts where she has obviously changed her mind several times."
Some, like Draper, say the examiners seem to be making judgments based on the first few paragraphs. "We had one with a brilliant opening paragraph that turned out not to be very good overall, which got a great mark. Another that didn't start too well, but improved a lot, got a poor mark."
And it's not just pupils who are affected. Under government targets for primary schools, 60% of 11-year-olds are expected to score level 4 in their Sats exams. If these marks are withheld, some schools could find themselves struggling to meet their targets. "Headteachers could find themselves wondering if they will have a job next year," says Draper. Some have already been asked to explain themselves.
"Some heads and chairs of governors are summoned to their local authority in advance of the re-marking to be reprimanded for their 'results' and they could be subject to intervention in their school as a result. This is magnified this year with Michael Gove's threat of academy intervention for 'underperforming schools'. I'd hate to be in that position."
Linda Harvey, headteacher at Beaumont primary in Purley, Surrey, says the impact could be felt particularly hard in small schools. She only has 19 pupils in year 6, and each one's performance represents around 5% of the school's overall results, which means just a few low marks can have a significant impact. She is sending 10 papers to Edexcel, but would "love to send the whole lot" back, she says.
The last time Sats marking caused embarrassment was in 2008 when the exams watchdog QCDA (now closing down) had to sack ETS, the contractor it was using, after problems left some results delayed by months. Edexcel was hastily awarded the contract, but this year's problems will put a question mark over the quality of its work.
A spokesperson at the Department for Education said that markers, who are practising or retired teachers, receive thorough training and undergo quality checks. "Ofqual regulates key stage 2 tests and has said it will continue to monitor and safeguard the quality of marking."
Tobia says she is not willing to give "any credibility" to these marks and will tell parents to disregard them in favour of teachers' assessment of how children are performing. "If Ofsted come and try to judge me over it, I am ready to do battle with them."
Headteachers fear their targets may be missed thanks to what some say is 'appalling' Sats marking
News last week that a government report had recommended scrapping writing tests for 11-year-olds should have been music to the ears of teachers, some of whom have long campaigned against exams for primary children. But before they could savour the moment, many found themselves embroiled in problems over the marking of this year's national curriculum tests, known as Sats. Headteachers and their staff are spending a busy week preparing to lodge appeals with Edexcel, the exam board, by the deadline on Friday.
After receiving an unprecedented number of calls from headteachers, the National Association of Head Teachers carried out a poll of its members. Within 24 hours, 720 of the 954 respondents said they were experiencing problems. Over 30% said the difficulties were "moderate," 28% "severe" and 13% "outrageous"; 93% reported problems with the writing part of the test. The test, taken by year 6 pupils every May, doesn't just test accuracy; children must show they can write in a range of genres and for different audiences.
But heads say that this year's markers have put too much emphasis on handwriting and spelling and not enough on the composition, sentence structure and use of punctuation.
Tony Draper, headteacher of Water Hall primary in Milton Keynes (and NAHT national executive member), says the marking is "absolutely appalling".
Nine of his pupils predicted to achieve level 4 (a standard expected from the majority of pupils leaving primary school) were graded at level 3. Two pupils, deemed by teachers to have produced work of level 5 standard, were graded level 4.
One paper (seen on this page), which Draper describes as showing "real flair and imagination for a 10-year-old", was awarded just 13 out of 31 marks (a level 3) by an external assessor, with particularly low scores for handwriting and "text structure and organisation". Draper believes it should have been awarded 20, an opinion verified by a local authority assessment consultant, which would mean an overall grading of level 4. "It's ridiculous, particularly the judgment on handwriting, because it is perfectly legible and sitting on the lines," he says. "I can't help thinking the examiner didn't like the fact there were crossings-out, but we teach our children to edit their work as they go along, and surely that is good practice."
And that is not the only thing Draper isn't impressed by. In five cases, the number of marks had been added up incorrectly by the marker – in one case resulting in a difference of five points out of a possible 30.
Draper is sending 11 out of the 31 papers back to be reviewed. This isn't cheap; schools have to pay £9 for each script re-marked and only get their money back if their appeal is successful.
Maggie Parker, headteacher at Tameside school near Manchester, calls the marking "disastrous". Over 90% of her pupils were predicted to get level 4 grades, and as the current marks stand, just 63% achieved this. She is planning to send back around 10 of the 52 papers taken. "It seems as if they (the marker) have just given the papers a cursory glance," she complains.
Paul Gabriel, headteacher at Lancaster Road primary in Morecambe, agrees. "It's as if the person marking it was watching the telly at the same time." He is planning to send back 14 of 60 scripts.
Over at Tickford Park primary, in Milton Keynes, Ann Tobia is also bemused. She is planning to send back 15 out of 41 scripts, after just 23 out of 51 students achieved level 4 grades (the school had predicted 43). She says: "My teachers are experienced, accurate markers, so in previous years their predictions have been spot on. This year's scripts look as if they have been marked by a child, with load of crossings-out and parts where she has obviously changed her mind several times."
Some, like Draper, say the examiners seem to be making judgments based on the first few paragraphs. "We had one with a brilliant opening paragraph that turned out not to be very good overall, which got a great mark. Another that didn't start too well, but improved a lot, got a poor mark."
And it's not just pupils who are affected. Under government targets for primary schools, 60% of 11-year-olds are expected to score level 4 in their Sats exams. If these marks are withheld, some schools could find themselves struggling to meet their targets. "Headteachers could find themselves wondering if they will have a job next year," says Draper. Some have already been asked to explain themselves.
"Some heads and chairs of governors are summoned to their local authority in advance of the re-marking to be reprimanded for their 'results' and they could be subject to intervention in their school as a result. This is magnified this year with Michael Gove's threat of academy intervention for 'underperforming schools'. I'd hate to be in that position."
Linda Harvey, headteacher at Beaumont primary in Purley, Surrey, says the impact could be felt particularly hard in small schools. She only has 19 pupils in year 6, and each one's performance represents around 5% of the school's overall results, which means just a few low marks can have a significant impact. She is sending 10 papers to Edexcel, but would "love to send the whole lot" back, she says.
The last time Sats marking caused embarrassment was in 2008 when the exams watchdog QCDA (now closing down) had to sack ETS, the contractor it was using, after problems left some results delayed by months. Edexcel was hastily awarded the contract, but this year's problems will put a question mark over the quality of its work.
A spokesperson at the Department for Education said that markers, who are practising or retired teachers, receive thorough training and undergo quality checks. "Ofqual regulates key stage 2 tests and has said it will continue to monitor and safeguard the quality of marking."
Tobia says she is not willing to give "any credibility" to these marks and will tell parents to disregard them in favour of teachers' assessment of how children are performing. "If Ofsted come and try to judge me over it, I am ready to do battle with them."
A former bank robber is working to set up a series of academies to help ex-prisoners start afresh
"Education liberated me from a life of crime," says Bobby Cummines, now a life fellow of the RSA, soon to receive an honorary master's from the Open University, and, last month, awarded the OBE by the Queen at Buckingham Palace for his services to reformed offenders. It's not bad for a former armed robber who spent a total of 13 years in high security prisons before deciding he needed to change for the better.
As founder member and chief executive of Unlock, the national association of reformed offenders, Cummines has spent the last 12 years campaigning against the social exclusion and discrimination that stymies the efforts of many reformed offenders to "go straight."
He leads a team of four staff operating from a tiny office above a dentist in Snodland, Kent. Unlock receives no government funding and relies on charity donations for its existence. But the organisation thinks big and boasts some significant successes in its fight for the right of offenders who have served their sentences and have a desire to live crime-free, productive lives to be treated by fairly by the rest of society.
A notable success was persuading sections of the insurance and banking industries of the merits of welcoming prisoners and ex-prisoners as customers. Unlock has established a specialist insurance broker service and now has a list of 17 insurers on its Insurance and Convictions Consumer Guidance leaflet. Working with Halifax and Barclays, Cummines has developed a guide to enable prison staff to assist people in prison or on the verge of release to open bank accounts. "The emphasis of our work is to reduce the likelihood of re-offending by people who have served their sentences," he says. "Without bank accounts people cannot access the financial services the rest of us take for granted."
It is hard to imagine that Cummines was ever part of a criminal culture. But like many who end up in prison, he started young. "I was a bright kid, but I never played by the rules. I was from a big Irish family of eight children. We lived in King's Cross in London when it was at its worst with drugs, gangs, prostitutes, you name it. To get out of the slums you became a bricklayer, joined the army or became a villain. Thieving was quite acceptable, so long as you didn't rob your own people."
He left school at 15 with no qualifications, but got a job in a shipping office. He puts the wrong turn his life took down to his first encounter with the police. "I was in a park with my mates when somebody let off a starting pistol. The police were called and began bullying us. I stood up to them." He says the police returned later and produced a cut-throat razor they said was his. "It was a fit-up," he says. "My dad said the police don't tell lies, plead guilty, you'll get a fine and it'll be forgotten about in a few years."
He got the fine, but his bosses at the shipping office saw his guilty plea and sacked him. "I was gutted," he says. "I thought, if you want me to be bad I'll show you how bad I can be." Within a year he was sentenced to six months in a detention centre for the possession of a sawn off shotgun. "It was supposed to be a short sharp shock, but it was just violence practised against vulnerable kids. I came out of there tougher and angrier than ever."
Over the next two decades Cummines established himself as a hard-core professional criminal. "If I had carried on, I would either have been shot dead by the police or innocent members of the public could have been shot."
The change came while he was serving a 12-year sentence and he credits a prison education officer, a prison probation officer and a former south London gang boss. "I started studying social science and psychology with the Open University. I began reading about deviant behaviour and thought, 'I'm reading about me!' The more I read, the more I realised I didn't have to be the way I was. The high I used to get from crime was replaced by a bigger high from learning."
Cummines left prison for the last time almost 25 years ago. He struggled to get work and fit into the "straight" world, but eventually succeeded, getting a degree at Greenwich University and going on to hold senior positions with various employers. "Getting work was hard because I had to make up my employment history," he says. "To live an honest life, I had to be dishonest about my past. That was one of my motivations for joining Unlock and one of the things we are campaigning to resolve," he says. As chief executive he has been a member of the home affairs select committee inquiry into the Rehabilitation of Offenders Act, an expert witness on to the home affairs select committee on prisoner education and a specialist adviser in the 2004 public inquiry into murder of Zahid Mubarek in Feltham Young Offenders Institution.
"Prison doesn't work, education works," Cummines concludes. His one big dream is for a series of super academies, which he has christened the Diamond Project. The aim would be to provide training, education, advice and guidance for low tariff offenders and those at risk of breaking the law. Cummines and his colleagues have spent years working on the proposals. They held talks with the last Labour government and have met the coalition government. During his last meeting with Lord McNally, minister of state for justice, the peer promised to arrange meetings between Unlock and other senior officials.
The recent government review of prisoner education pledged to put education and training at the heart of Ken Clarke's promised "rehabilitation revolution" in our jails. Cummines, who has already secured the promise of several hundred million pounds' worth of private finance for the project, is hopeful. "I told Lord McNally, 'People usually come here to ask you for money, but I want to give you money,'" he says, smiling.
With an average cost of £37,000 a year to keep someone in prison and the cost of re-offending estimated by the home office at between £9bn and £13bn a year perhaps he has a point.
"They would be investing in good behaviour. You can educate people out of crime. Or you can educate people into crime, by giving them no education and banging them up with experienced criminals."
A former bank robber is working to set up a series of academies to help ex-prisoners start afresh
"Education liberated me from a life of crime," says Bobby Cummines, now a life fellow of the RSA, soon to receive an honorary master's from the Open University, and, last month, awarded the OBE by the Queen at Buckingham Palace for his services to reformed offenders. It's not bad for a former armed robber who spent a total of 13 years in high security prisons before deciding he needed to change for the better.
As founder member and chief executive of Unlock, the national association of reformed offenders, Cummines has spent the last 12 years campaigning against the social exclusion and discrimination that stymies the efforts of many reformed offenders to "go straight."
He leads a team of four staff operating from a tiny office above a dentist in Snodland, Kent. Unlock receives no government funding and relies on charity donations for its existence. But the organisation thinks big and boasts some significant successes in its fight for the right of offenders who have served their sentences and have a desire to live crime-free, productive lives to be treated by fairly by the rest of society.
A notable success was persuading sections of the insurance and banking industries of the merits of welcoming prisoners and ex-prisoners as customers. Unlock has established a specialist insurance broker service and now has a list of 17 insurers on its Insurance and Convictions Consumer Guidance leaflet. Working with Halifax and Barclays, Cummines has developed a guide to enable prison staff to assist people in prison or on the verge of release to open bank accounts. "The emphasis of our work is to reduce the likelihood of re-offending by people who have served their sentences," he says. "Without bank accounts people cannot access the financial services the rest of us take for granted."
It is hard to imagine that Cummines was ever part of a criminal culture. But like many who end up in prison, he started young. "I was a bright kid, but I never played by the rules. I was from a big Irish family of eight children. We lived in King's Cross in London when it was at its worst with drugs, gangs, prostitutes, you name it. To get out of the slums you became a bricklayer, joined the army or became a villain. Thieving was quite acceptable, so long as you didn't rob your own people."
He left school at 15 with no qualifications, but got a job in a shipping office. He puts the wrong turn his life took down to his first encounter with the police. "I was in a park with my mates when somebody let off a starting pistol. The police were called and began bullying us. I stood up to them." He says the police returned later and produced a cut-throat razor they said was his. "It was a fit-up," he says. "My dad said the police don't tell lies, plead guilty, you'll get a fine and it'll be forgotten about in a few years."
He got the fine, but his bosses at the shipping office saw his guilty plea and sacked him. "I was gutted," he says. "I thought, if you want me to be bad I'll show you how bad I can be." Within a year he was sentenced to six months in a detention centre for the possession of a sawn off shotgun. "It was supposed to be a short sharp shock, but it was just violence practised against vulnerable kids. I came out of there tougher and angrier than ever."
Over the next two decades Cummines established himself as a hard-core professional criminal. "If I had carried on, I would either have been shot dead by the police or innocent members of the public could have been shot."
The change came while he was serving a 12-year sentence and he credits a prison education officer, a prison probation officer and a former south London gang boss. "I started studying social science and psychology with the Open University. I began reading about deviant behaviour and thought, 'I'm reading about me!' The more I read, the more I realised I didn't have to be the way I was. The high I used to get from crime was replaced by a bigger high from learning."
Cummines left prison for the last time almost 25 years ago. He struggled to get work and fit into the "straight" world, but eventually succeeded, getting a degree at Greenwich University and going on to hold senior positions with various employers. "Getting work was hard because I had to make up my employment history," he says. "To live an honest life, I had to be dishonest about my past. That was one of my motivations for joining Unlock and one of the things we are campaigning to resolve," he says. As chief executive he has been a member of the home affairs select committee inquiry into the Rehabilitation of Offenders Act, an expert witness on to the home affairs select committee on prisoner education and a specialist adviser in the 2004 public inquiry into murder of Zahid Mubarek in Feltham Young Offenders Institution.
"Prison doesn't work, education works," Cummines concludes. His one big dream is for a series of super academies, which he has christened the Diamond Project. The aim would be to provide training, education, advice and guidance for low tariff offenders and those at risk of breaking the law. Cummines and his colleagues have spent years working on the proposals. They held talks with the last Labour government and have met the coalition government. During his last meeting with Lord McNally, minister of state for justice, the peer promised to arrange meetings between Unlock and other senior officials.
The recent government review of prisoner education pledged to put education and training at the heart of Ken Clarke's promised "rehabilitation revolution" in our jails. Cummines, who has already secured the promise of several hundred million pounds' worth of private finance for the project, is hopeful. "I told Lord McNally, 'People usually come here to ask you for money, but I want to give you money,'" he says, smiling.
With an average cost of £37,000 a year to keep someone in prison and the cost of re-offending estimated by the home office at between £9bn and £13bn a year perhaps he has a point.
"They would be investing in good behaviour. You can educate people out of crime. Or you can educate people into crime, by giving them no education and banging them up with experienced criminals."
Psychologists are finding new ways to improve the quality of discussion by trial juries
The jury in the iconic film 12 Angry Men would have reached a very different verdict if not for the Henry Fonda character, "juror 8". His lone dissenting voice prompts a fierce debate in which prejudices are exposed, and a previously reticent young juror finds the confidence to share a knowledge of knives gleaned from his tough upbringing to convince the others that the accused could not have inflicted the fatal wound.
But in real life, not every jury has a juror 8. Research in the US has found that it is common for a third of jury members to contribute little to discussion, while a significant minority remain completely silent. It's difficult to conduct similar research in the UK, where there are strict laws preventing jurors talking about what has gone on in the jury room, but it seems likely the results would be similar. A jury of 12 is supposed to represent a cross-section of society and bring a wide range of experience to the deliberation process, but that's not going to happen if some members can't get word in.
Psychologists at the University of Portsmouth have been looking at how to improve the quality of jury debate and have come up with a simple solution: rearrange the chairs so they begin their deliberation in groups of four. "Four is the magic number, because it's the maximum number of people you can interact with effectively at any one time," says the lead researcher, Dr Bridget Waller.
In simulations, the researchers found that the arrangement increased the involvement levels of all jury members and there was less of a tendency for some people to dominate. They also noted that the group discussion evolved naturally into a whole-jury consensus, and jurors felt they contributed more to the verdict.
Why is the number four so important? "Observations of social settings suggest that four is a cut-off point in spontaneously forming groups," says Waller. "If you look at a restaurant table of eight people, there will be two conversations going on."
In group conversations, there's a lot to keep track of, she explains. For example, you need to remember who has said what, read each person's body language and keep track of conversational processes such as turn-taking. It's very difficult to manage this with more than four people.
Waller also points to other research that suggests there are evolutionary as well as practical reasons for our tendency to gather in groups of four. The evolutionary anthropologist Robin Dunbar has put forward the idea that language has evolved partly as a form of social "grooming", which functions in a similar way to the physical grooming practised by other primates to maintain bonds.
There is a relationship between the amount of time a species spends grooming each other and the size of their social group – chimpanzees live in groups of around 50, so spend a lot of time grooming. While animal grooming takes place on an individual basis, language allows us to "groom" more than one person at a time. Because the average person is connected socially to around 150 others, we need to be three times as efficient at grooming as chimps. Group talk is a way of achieving this, although it gets difficult once you get beyond the group of four.
In the Portsmouth research, 120 participants watched a video of a mock trial and were then divided into "juries", some in the traditional way, with all 12 members seated around one table, and others arranged into groups of four. The only instruction given was not to move the chairs. "We thought they might be confused as to whether they were in a group of four or 12," says Waller. "What surprised us was how quickly people intuitively understood what they were supposed to do. They began discussions very quickly in their group of four, but also had a very fluid exchange of ideas between the sub-groups and the main configuration. In the groups of 12 we didn't have that – it was a lot quieter and there was a lot more hesitation at the start. What came up in our feedback at the end of the simulations was that personality types seemed to be exposed more in the group of 12 than in our sub-divided groups, and some individuals dominated the discussion." Leaders still emerged in the group setting, she adds, but their influence was diluted.
"What you tend to get in large groups is the "groupthink" phenomenon, which means you can easily get swayed towards the majority consensus. You're less likely to have that in smaller groups, so if you do have an alternative position, you're more likely to vocalise that."
Some members of the team are also looking at other ways of improving the jury experience. In a related study, Dr Lorraine Hope developed a specially structured notebook with trial-relevant headings that jury members can use to take notes. Her research found that those using it reported significantly more accurate information in a post-trial recall task.
As yet it's unclear what effect, if any, jury groupings will have on verdicts. Almost all the juries in the simulation found the defendant not guilty. The team now plans to conduct further studies using more divisive cases, and to look in detail at how non-verbal behaviour helps participants to understand the motivation and intention of others. "What might be happening in groups bigger than four is that you get the linguistic sentiment – the actual words they're saying – but not the emotional value or emphasis they're putting on it or how confident they feel about it. Looking at someone's face and gestures and listening to the sound of their voice helps you interpret what they're saying. I think what we might find is that in our small groups of four there's a much better emotionally communicative process than in the large groups."
Psychologists are finding new ways to improve the quality of discussion by trial juries
The jury in the iconic film 12 Angry Men would have reached a very different verdict if not for the Henry Fonda character, "juror 8". His lone dissenting voice prompts a fierce debate in which prejudices are exposed, and a previously reticent young juror finds the confidence to share a knowledge of knives gleaned from his tough upbringing to convince the others that the accused could not have inflicted the fatal wound.
But in real life, not every jury has a juror 8. Research in the US has found that it is common for a third of jury members to contribute little to discussion, while a significant minority remain completely silent. It's difficult to conduct similar research in the UK, where there are strict laws preventing jurors talking about what has gone on in the jury room, but it seems likely the results would be similar. A jury of 12 is supposed to represent a cross-section of society and bring a wide range of experience to the deliberation process, but that's not going to happen if some members can't get word in.
Psychologists at the University of Portsmouth have been looking at how to improve the quality of jury debate and have come up with a simple solution: rearrange the chairs so they begin their deliberation in groups of four. "Four is the magic number, because it's the maximum number of people you can interact with effectively at any one time," says the lead researcher, Dr Bridget Waller.
In simulations, the researchers found that the arrangement increased the involvement levels of all jury members and there was less of a tendency for some people to dominate. They also noted that the group discussion evolved naturally into a whole-jury consensus, and jurors felt they contributed more to the verdict.
Why is the number four so important? "Observations of social settings suggest that four is a cut-off point in spontaneously forming groups," says Waller. "If you look at a restaurant table of eight people, there will be two conversations going on."
In group conversations, there's a lot to keep track of, she explains. For example, you need to remember who has said what, read each person's body language and keep track of conversational processes such as turn-taking. It's very difficult to manage this with more than four people.
Waller also points to other research that suggests there are evolutionary as well as practical reasons for our tendency to gather in groups of four. The evolutionary anthropologist Robin Dunbar has put forward the idea that language has evolved partly as a form of social "grooming", which functions in a similar way to the physical grooming practised by other primates to maintain bonds.
There is a relationship between the amount of time a species spends grooming each other and the size of their social group – chimpanzees live in groups of around 50, so spend a lot of time grooming. While animal grooming takes place on an individual basis, language allows us to "groom" more than one person at a time. Because the average person is connected socially to around 150 others, we need to be three times as efficient at grooming as chimps. Group talk is a way of achieving this, although it gets difficult once you get beyond the group of four.
In the Portsmouth research, 120 participants watched a video of a mock trial and were then divided into "juries", some in the traditional way, with all 12 members seated around one table, and others arranged into groups of four. The only instruction given was not to move the chairs. "We thought they might be confused as to whether they were in a group of four or 12," says Waller. "What surprised us was how quickly people intuitively understood what they were supposed to do. They began discussions very quickly in their group of four, but also had a very fluid exchange of ideas between the sub-groups and the main configuration. In the groups of 12 we didn't have that – it was a lot quieter and there was a lot more hesitation at the start. What came up in our feedback at the end of the simulations was that personality types seemed to be exposed more in the group of 12 than in our sub-divided groups, and some individuals dominated the discussion." Leaders still emerged in the group setting, she adds, but their influence was diluted.
"What you tend to get in large groups is the "groupthink" phenomenon, which means you can easily get swayed towards the majority consensus. You're less likely to have that in smaller groups, so if you do have an alternative position, you're more likely to vocalise that."
Some members of the team are also looking at other ways of improving the jury experience. In a related study, Dr Lorraine Hope developed a specially structured notebook with trial-relevant headings that jury members can use to take notes. Her research found that those using it reported significantly more accurate information in a post-trial recall task.
As yet it's unclear what effect, if any, jury groupings will have on verdicts. Almost all the juries in the simulation found the defendant not guilty. The team now plans to conduct further studies using more divisive cases, and to look in detail at how non-verbal behaviour helps participants to understand the motivation and intention of others. "What might be happening in groups bigger than four is that you get the linguistic sentiment – the actual words they're saying – but not the emotional value or emphasis they're putting on it or how confident they feel about it. Looking at someone's face and gestures and listening to the sound of their voice helps you interpret what they're saying. I think what we might find is that in our small groups of four there's a much better emotionally communicative process than in the large groups."
Chimpanzees in Budongo Forest in Uganda regularly employ leaves as 'napkins' to wipe their penis after sex, researchers discovered
The authors of a study called High Frequency of Postcoital Penis Cleaning in Budongo Chimpanzees do not beat about the bush. "We report on postcoital penis cleaning in chimpanzees," they write. "In penis cleaning, leaves are employed as 'napkins' to wipe clean the penis after sex. Alternatively, the same cleaning motion can be done without leaves, simply using the fingers. Not all chimpanzee communities studied across Africa clean their penes and, where documented, the behaviour is rare. By contrast, we identify postcoital penis cleaning in Budongo Forest, Uganda, as customary."
Sean O'Hara, a Durham University anthropologist (who has since moved to the University of Salford), and Phyllis Lee, a psychology professor at the University of Stirling, published their monograph in the journal Folia Primatologica, in 2006.
They list the few instances in which humans had documented the practice. Jane Goodall "mentions it in the Gombe chimpanzees, Tanzania, and leaf napkin use in Kibale forest, Uganda, is known ... and in 25 years of observation at Taï Forest, Côte d'Ivoire, 'leaf-wipe' has been recorded just once".
O'Hara and a field assistant named Monday Gideon did the Budongo detecting "between January and September 2003 and were able to verify 'cleaning' or 'not cleaning' for 116 copulations. Penis cleaning occurred in 34.5% of copulations (9.5% with leaf napkins and 25% without use of a tool)".
The team expresses wonder that this particular form of tool use varies so starkly in popularity. "For penis wiping to be common in some locations while rare or absent elsewhere presents a puzzle," they say.
They point out that many kinds of animals use one or another type of tool. They cite reports about New Caledonian crows, bottlenose dolphins, parasitoid wasps, capuchin monkeys, and other species. O'Hara and Lee explain that most of these tool-using practices are "cultural behaviours" – that is, learned from fellow dolphins, wasps, monkeys, or whatever.
What's especially notable here, they say, is that "few material cultural behaviours are conducted in asocial contexts ... Postcoital penis cleaning is one such activity. Although the copulatory act is, by definition, a social event encompassing more than one individual, the penis wiping that follows is solitary and self-directed".
They note the existence of hypotheses that the cleaning serves some important, particular function. The males do it to check for signs of sexually transmitted disease [STD], perhaps, or maybe to monitor some reproductive aspect of the females with whom they consort.
But O'Hara and Lee keep a disciplined focus on the main question: culture.
"Whatever the motivation or function", they write, "Budongo males appear more fastidious in penis hygiene than elsewhere. We found no proclivity for the use of specific leaf types; leaves appeared to be plucked non-systematically ... While the functional or STD context remains unclear, we suggest that using leaf napkins is a cultural trait in chimpanzees."
Thanks to Torbjörn Karfunkel for bringing this to my attention.
• Marc Abrahams is editor of the bimonthly Annals of Improbable Research and organiser of the Ig Nobel prize
Chimpanzees in Budongo Forest in Uganda regularly employ leaves as 'napkins' to wipe their penis after sex, researchers discovered
The authors of a study called High Frequency of Postcoital Penis Cleaning in Budongo Chimpanzees do not beat about the bush. "We report on postcoital penis cleaning in chimpanzees," they write. "In penis cleaning, leaves are employed as 'napkins' to wipe clean the penis after sex. Alternatively, the same cleaning motion can be done without leaves, simply using the fingers. Not all chimpanzee communities studied across Africa clean their penes and, where documented, the behaviour is rare. By contrast, we identify postcoital penis cleaning in Budongo Forest, Uganda, as customary."
Sean O'Hara, a Durham University anthropologist (who has since moved to the University of Salford), and Phyllis Lee, a psychology professor at the University of Stirling, published their monograph in the journal Folia Primatologica, in 2006.
They list the few instances in which humans had documented the practice. Jane Goodall "mentions it in the Gombe chimpanzees, Tanzania, and leaf napkin use in Kibale forest, Uganda, is known ... and in 25 years of observation at Taï Forest, Côte d'Ivoire, 'leaf-wipe' has been recorded just once".
O'Hara and a field assistant named Monday Gideon did the Budongo detecting "between January and September 2003 and were able to verify 'cleaning' or 'not cleaning' for 116 copulations. Penis cleaning occurred in 34.5% of copulations (9.5% with leaf napkins and 25% without use of a tool)".
The team expresses wonder that this particular form of tool use varies so starkly in popularity. "For penis wiping to be common in some locations while rare or absent elsewhere presents a puzzle," they say.
They point out that many kinds of animals use one or another type of tool. They cite reports about New Caledonian crows, bottlenose dolphins, parasitoid wasps, capuchin monkeys, and other species. O'Hara and Lee explain that most of these tool-using practices are "cultural behaviours" – that is, learned from fellow dolphins, wasps, monkeys, or whatever.
What's especially notable here, they say, is that "few material cultural behaviours are conducted in asocial contexts ... Postcoital penis cleaning is one such activity. Although the copulatory act is, by definition, a social event encompassing more than one individual, the penis wiping that follows is solitary and self-directed".
They note the existence of hypotheses that the cleaning serves some important, particular function. The males do it to check for signs of sexually transmitted disease [STD], perhaps, or maybe to monitor some reproductive aspect of the females with whom they consort.
But O'Hara and Lee keep a disciplined focus on the main question: culture.
"Whatever the motivation or function", they write, "Budongo males appear more fastidious in penis hygiene than elsewhere. We found no proclivity for the use of specific leaf types; leaves appeared to be plucked non-systematically ... While the functional or STD context remains unclear, we suggest that using leaf napkins is a cultural trait in chimpanzees."
Thanks to Torbjörn Karfunkel for bringing this to my attention.
• Marc Abrahams is editor of the bimonthly Annals of Improbable Research and organiser of the Ig Nobel prize
Good schools, academies and rocket science
Last week Janet Murray spent a day at Marlowe Academy, now bottom of the GCSE league table
The government's new GCSE targets, when added to Ofsted's regime of being "tougher" on schools' raw results, regardless of pupil background, is scandalous (A day in the life of the 'worst' school, 28 June). Empirical research has demonstrated that league tables tell us everything about schools' social class composition and next to nothing about educational quality. The current "surveillance" regime is becoming even worse than under the darkest years of the previous government.
Dr Richard House
University of Roehampton
• If you assume that 50% of a standard cohort will achieve the "average" for that cohort (half above average, half below is a decent assumption), and the average child's average achievement is five decent GCSEs, that's fairly OK ... provided you have a standard cohort. If you cream off the top 30%, as in Kent, you are left with trying to get the remaining 20% of above-average children plus 15% of the below-average children to attain the results of the average to above-average child (50% of 70% is 35% of children overall – a year 8 maths problem). Even on a standard bell-curve distribution of children, none of whom are special needs, recent immigrants, or not-really-looked-after, that's a tough assignment. If Kent can get every school achieving Gove's 50% target, it will have produced a whole heap of children who are of below-average ability but get average to above-average results. That would be astonishing.
Jentho via EducationGuardian.co.uk
• I am starting as a teacher at the Marlowe academy in September and looking forward to it. Currently, I work at an outstanding school; I hold undergraduate and postgraduate degrees from Russell group universities and I have been rated outstanding. I am a former research scientist (real job). I visited the Marlowe for the first time at Easter. I was impressed by the head, his team and students. The ethos seemed positive, a nice, calm, friendly school that cares about more than grades on paper. Teachers knew their students and took the time to interact with them. Many people believe intelligence is set at birth; that you either have it or you don't. This is nonsense; it is the positive values and challenge that the students receive at the Marlowe that will drive the school forward.
Virologist via EducationGuardian.co.uk
Your article about Holland Park comprehensive, ('We are not living in the 1970s any more', 28 June) is a miserly assessment of the path the school has been walking. In my role as head of The Key, a service that engages with more than 8,000 school leaders, I visit many schools. Holland Park has been one of the most impressive. Becoming an academy is a natural step for a school that had to grasp its own future when it had lost its way more than a decade ago.
Fergal Roche, London W1
Did the graduate who took the trouble to calculate the mass of rocket fuel needed to shift the Earth away from the Sun into a cooler orbit also consider the planet's current orbital speed around its star? Further out, the Earth would need to travel at a slower speed to stay in orbit; if its current speed were left unchanged, it would begin to spiral even further out. When the oxygen in our atmosphere begins to freeze out as blue snow, we would definitely have solved global warming, once and for all time.
Dr Hillary Shaw
Harper Adams University College
Newport, Shropshire
Good schools, academies and rocket science
Last week Janet Murray spent a day at Marlowe Academy, now bottom of the GCSE league table
The government's new GCSE targets, when added to Ofsted's regime of being "tougher" on schools' raw results, regardless of pupil background, is scandalous (A day in the life of the 'worst' school, 28 June). Empirical research has demonstrated that league tables tell us everything about schools' social class composition and next to nothing about educational quality. The current "surveillance" regime is becoming even worse than under the darkest years of the previous government.
Dr Richard House
University of Roehampton
• If you assume that 50% of a standard cohort will achieve the "average" for that cohort (half above average, half below is a decent assumption), and the average child's average achievement is five decent GCSEs, that's fairly OK ... provided you have a standard cohort. If you cream off the top 30%, as in Kent, you are left with trying to get the remaining 20% of above-average children plus 15% of the below-average children to attain the results of the average to above-average child (50% of 70% is 35% of children overall – a year 8 maths problem). Even on a standard bell-curve distribution of children, none of whom are special needs, recent immigrants, or not-really-looked-after, that's a tough assignment. If Kent can get every school achieving Gove's 50% target, it will have produced a whole heap of children who are of below-average ability but get average to above-average results. That would be astonishing.
Jentho via EducationGuardian.co.uk
• I am starting as a teacher at the Marlowe academy in September and looking forward to it. Currently, I work at an outstanding school; I hold undergraduate and postgraduate degrees from Russell group universities and I have been rated outstanding. I am a former research scientist (real job). I visited the Marlowe for the first time at Easter. I was impressed by the head, his team and students. The ethos seemed positive, a nice, calm, friendly school that cares about more than grades on paper. Teachers knew their students and took the time to interact with them. Many people believe intelligence is set at birth; that you either have it or you don't. This is nonsense; it is the positive values and challenge that the students receive at the Marlowe that will drive the school forward.
Virologist via EducationGuardian.co.uk
Your article about Holland Park comprehensive, ('We are not living in the 1970s any more', 28 June) is a miserly assessment of the path the school has been walking. In my role as head of The Key, a service that engages with more than 8,000 school leaders, I visit many schools. Holland Park has been one of the most impressive. Becoming an academy is a natural step for a school that had to grasp its own future when it had lost its way more than a decade ago.
Fergal Roche, London W1
Did the graduate who took the trouble to calculate the mass of rocket fuel needed to shift the Earth away from the Sun into a cooler orbit also consider the planet's current orbital speed around its star? Further out, the Earth would need to travel at a slower speed to stay in orbit; if its current speed were left unchanged, it would begin to spiral even further out. When the oxygen in our atmosphere begins to freeze out as blue snow, we would definitely have solved global warming, once and for all time.
Dr Hillary Shaw
Harper Adams University College
Newport, Shropshire