John Holt was one of America's most perceptive teachers and authors on the subject of school and education.  The more he observed children in school, the more he believed that school was actually a hindrance to education.  He wrote his findings in two excellent books, entitled 'How Children Fail' and 'How Children Learn'.  He questioned how an entire system could 'turn a torrent into a trickle' when it came to human potential.
Eventually, he became an advocate for home-schooling, a movement that now includes millions of children in the USA and thousands in the UK.  The issue of home-schooling is a hot one.  Its critics voice two main objections:
 1. It can create unsociable young people.
 2.  It can be used as a means of indoctrinating a child into a political or religious creed.


Of the few cases I have personally known, the children did not become unsociable and all had a circle of friends, most of whom were deeply envious of the home-schooler.
The second objection is a serious one.  I would guess that in some cases, home-inculcation occurs.  But if parents are hell-bent on indoctrinating their child, then they will do so, irrespective of school.
Millions of home-schooled children have done very well, in exams and in life.

I would like to end by quoting a review of Holt's 'How Children Learn'.  It puts into words, better than I could, John Holt's view of 'education':
"Left to themselves, young children are capable of grasping new ideas faster than most adults give them credit for.  But they have their own ways of understanding, of working things out; and in most cases this fresh, natural style of thinking is destroyed when the child goes to school and encounters formal methods of learning".

When I suggested, in my post of 27th September, that I hoped that one day school would be no more, I roused the ire of several friends and commentators.  For that reason, I plan to spend two or three posts on this subject, to explain more fully my statement and to convince some people that I haven't lost my mind.


When I suggest that no school is better than any school, the reaction is either laughter or disbelief, as if I concocted such an idea one night while imbibing a bottle of gin.
There are three teachers/authors I wish to write about, since all three saw clearly how school is the enemy of education.
The first is Ivan Illich, who wrote a brilliant book in the 1960s, entitled Deschooling Society.  He describes how learning can be integrated into society, so that 'school' as we know it would become superfluous.  Illich saw our system of education as deeply anti-educational.  Given enough resources, he believed that children would become much better educated without the hidden curriculum of school. "Universal education through schooling is not feasible", he maintained.  When people reacted to his idea, calling it 'mad', he would reply that sending children into a building to learn what they are not interested in, and yet must obey rules set down by others, is truly mad.


Time is against me today, so I shall leave until next week my post on John Holt and John Taylor Gatto, both worth looking up online.  They were forceful opponents of school.  Such a pity that the powers that be continue to trudge along the same, wrong path, deaf to such wise, experienced voices.

As an English teacher, I frequently emphasised the importance of 'subtext' - which in today's vernacular sounds like a hidden or underwater text message.
Subtext is vital in understanding literature, grasping the real meaning under the surface of the story.
I have found the same applies in life.  What lies behind an action is far more significant than the action itself.  A furious argument between two people can look like contempt and anger, but is really an expression of their interest in each other, if not mutual attraction.


A friend of mine's son, when he was 15 years old, complained to me that his mother was too worried about him all the time.  This used to bother me when I was his age, and I'm sure that it still irritates thousands of adolescents.  It took me quite a while to see that the opposite of concern is neglect.  Kids whose parents couldn't care less what they do, are sending the child a terrible message, one that will reverberate throughout their lives.
In an extreme example of this, a serial killer once said:
"When I was young, nobody cared at all about me, so I grew up not caring about anybody else."
This is not a simplistic excuse for his actions, but is perhaps the beginning of an understanding of why such people exist.
A parent's concern might be annoying and seemingly restrictive to a child, but the subtext of concern is a caring and loving attitude - and that goes for all our close relationships in life.

Whenever I point to the success of people who hardly ever, or never went to school (e.g. William Blake,  Mark Twain and Buster Keaton), I get the same reply:
"But they were exceptional people.  Others would fail."
It hardly ever occurs to anyone that they were successful because of their lack of traditional schooling, not in spite of.
John Taylor Gatto observed:
"As a teacher, I found that genius is as common as dirt."
The model of traditional schooling that most nations slavishly follow is becoming more and more anti-educational, more fixated on the academic side, and long ago became huge factories for producing tomorrow's workforce.
As I have said before, children are naturally curious and, largely left to their own devices, will learn far more than in school.  And they would, most importantly, love learning instead of loathing it.
The basic tools of learning are literacy and numeracy.  Once they are accomplished, the world is yours.  Like the keyboard of a piano, once you learn the keys and scales, you can compose anything.  Once you have learned how to drive, you can go anywhere.
Yet, even with literacy and numeracy, schools are failing terribly.  For children not to be able to read and write by the age of 10, reveals what poor teaching they have experienced.  I exclude children with certain conditions and learning difficulties.
With any luck, in the distant future I fear, school will be a thing of the past.

Recently, I found a photo, from the Western Daily Press in Bristol, in April, 1975.  It is, as you can plainly see, one of myself as a tiger in a children's theatre company show, and Oliver (aged 4), sitting on my leg.

The story of Oliver is a sad one, or at least was when we met him after one of our morning shows.  His mother, Anne Gubbay, was in tears as she explained to us how Oliver had never smiled or laughed in his life.  She had dressed him in a cowboy outfit and brought him to our show, in the hope that he would find something to chuckle at.

But alas, Oliver kept his stern face throughout.
We showed him the impressive puppets and clowned around as actors, but to no avail.  When he sat on my leg, I talked 'tiger-talk', which was no more than nonsense about cowboys and tigers.  Still, not a flicker.

Looking back on it now, I am sure that Oliver was on the autistic spectrum, especially since he hardly spoke to us.  It was beyond shyness.  But I sincerely hope that Oliver, who would now be about 36, has matured with a sense of humour.  I would love to know.

Of course, I felt a failure that day, but I don't know what else I could have done, or any of the theatre troupe.  It was the mum's distress which was so upsetting.


I apologise to my readers about this post two days ago. I had difficulty transferring the photo to the post and so I ended it abruptly and without the photo.
I'll come better prepared next Sunday.

At the risk of turning this blog into one on dogs, I would like to repeat a story, and in the process, ask if anyone of my readers has a copy of the programme. The possibility is remote, but hope springs eternal!

Some years ago, perhaps 7 or 8 years ago, Channel 4 broadcast a programme about two teenage boys, both young offenders, with histories of brutality at home and crime in public.

Separately, the boys were given a dog each, a pup, but not newborn.  They were monitored over the weeks that passed.  They had to feed the dog, walk the dog, wash the dog, and watch out for any reason to seek a vet's advice. 

In one case, the boy was overwhelmed by a creature that was always happy to see him, never judged him, and gave him unconditional love, all of which had been denied him in his life.  A dog was able to give him what his family did not!  After a while, the boy snapped.  He broke down completely, the first step in his recovery and his search for human love.

Unfortunately, the other boy did not respond much at all.  He took care of the dog, but the dog's adoration of him did not shatter his suffering, so damaged was he.  I remember thinking:

 "I hope, one day, his wounds will heal."

Dogs have saved lives, and not just physically.  They are, to quote a modern cliché, wonderful 'anti-stress machines'.  They just love to be loved.

Next week, back on track, whatever that means!

Reading aloud in class is a pleasure for some pupils but an agonizing, humiliating experience for many.  Of course, those who enjoy it are already good readers, but for those struggling to become literate, it can cause them to abandon their efforts, if mortified in front of their peers regularly.
Even one to one, kids can feel constantly judged and made to feel stupid when learning how to read fluently, no matter how patient and sensitive the teacher is.

There was a television news report some months ago, about a scheme that was tested in some primary schools in the north of England.  This scheme involved getting poor readers in school to read to dogs, i.e.one dog to one reader, and adults out of sight.  Naturally, the dogs chosen for this experiment had docile dispositions and were trained to sit or lie and listen to the reader - i.e. look at the reader, and 'listen' to the story.

What happened ?  Surprise! Surprise!  All the children involved improved their reading ability, in some cases substantially.  What sounded like a crazy idea works, and for a good reason - the readers do not feel judged by a dog and they don't fear being corrected all the time.  Most young children believe that the dog is actually listening to the story and enjoying it, so they want to read more.

One little boy said: "I looked up all the interesting things about dogs in the Guinness Book of Records, and told Murphy them.  I think he was very interested, at least he looked as if he was."

I recommend that all primary schools adopt this scheme, depending on the availability of dogs, because there is no shortage of children who need such a scheme.

Families with a dog, or a perhaps with a neighbour's dog, should try this out on their young ones if they are losing their confidence as readers.