Tim Atkinson's Blog, page 4

Back to school... back to an out-dated, old-fashioned, Victorian way of learning

It's back to school again this week, and parents everywhere are breathing a huge sigh of relief. No more fronted adverbials; no more expanded noun phrases and other ridiculous strictures from the Gove/Cummings curriculum revolution (you know, the one that also replaced GCSE grades A-E with 9-1) designed to make simple things more complicated.

But although parents up and down the country will be cheering, almost 70% remain worried about the impact of lost learning. It's true that during lockdown countless lessons have been lost. But learning hasn't stopped. And although some of the life lessons of the last few months have been painful, generation lockdown may just turn out to be the most flexible, adaptable and resilient generation we've ever seen. 

No one can deny the past few months have been hard. Juggling jobs with home-schooling has been tricky for most and impossible for some. In terms of days lost almost half the school year has been spent at home across the two lockdowns. But learning hasn't been lost. Learning is never lost. Most children, especially those at primary school, are resilient and resourceful. After all, it's precisely those genetically-inherited qualities that have made us, as a species, so successful. And, as a species, we're going to have to be more resilient and resourceful than ever as we adapt to global warming and the inexorable pace of change in almost every sphere of life. 

Except schooling. Because schools are still based on a "factory" model that takes little account of the huge discoveries made in the psychology of learning. Add to that the Gradgrindian national curriculum and hopelessly outdated and inefficient exam system and you only need the swish of the cane to complete the Victorian picture. 

But if the pandemic has proved anything it's that we need to be flexible and resourceful. Scientists adapt to create new vaccines; teachers learn new ways of teaching; workers master unfamiliar technology to work from home. But for schools, from today, the clock goes back a century to a system long past its use-by date well before the pandemic struck. 

It's perhaps useful to consider what schools are for, and what kind of education they should provide. As Lucy Kellaway writes in the FT, much of what goes on in school is "boring, stupid and bears no relationship to the economy." Perhaps  nothing done in school should be "relevant" to the economy, or any other area, directly. Because above all, the one thing schools everywhere should have to do for everyone is instil a love of learning. Because that's the one big thing Generation Covid will be doing throughout their ever-changing, challenge-ridden adult lives. Learning, changing, adapting. It's already happening. And during Covid-lockdowns our children have got invaluable first hand experience of one of the best lessons anyone can ever learn. It is this. Just because things have always been done in a particular way, doesn't mean it's the best way. Things happen that mean we've got to change, adapt, think outside the box. Circumstances will dictate that we are forced to do things differently. And we can. And that's the best lesson anyone can learn.  

Diary: Blowing hot and cold...

For an out-of-date vestige of a long lost era, the Royals certainly know how to sell newspapers. In fact, come the glorious day perhaps that's the industry a weary nation should set them up in, in return for the palace and pomp and pageantry, in exchange for the backstage influence on legislation, as a more-than-generous trade off for all their corrosive in-fighting and costly domestic dues? In fact, setting the Royals up as Press Barons would be apt, at a time when the newspaper's reign is also slowly drawing to an end. 

But who needs newsprint when you've got radio, TV and the internet salivating over every twist and turn?  In case I've not already made myself clear, let me put in this way: I'm utterly, utterly sick of the silly soap opera that is this country's out-dated, irrelevant and unbelievably expensive royal family. I don't want a revolution; but I do want to hear a lot less about them and pay nothing whatever to keep them!

This shit show between different members of a family descended from murderers and Machiavellian power-grabbers and in-bred preservers of their own self-interest that we - you and I - still pay for is a joke! And the joke is on is. This week's Royal circus has been  worse than #Brexit! Now we’ve “taken back control” can't we grow up?

Of course, I wish no ill will to any of them, least of all the Duke of Edinburgh. I'm delighted to hear of his successful heart procedure, and only wish the same speedy, quality care was available to all men of his age. I doubt he had to answer any awkward questions while someone decided whether or not to slap a DNR notice on his bed. 

And on the subject of wind, the actual zephyr of last week did some spectacular damage to one of the old, tall trees in the cemetery. We noticed it today, on our walk through the land of the dead which we take both as a change from our foot pounding perambulations of the living streets and because it's a haven of peace, beauty and wildlife. This part of the cemetery has been closed to burials for years; the trees are allowed to grow and bulbs and wildflowers thrive unchecked. I sometimes think of it as a small aide-memoir of what the world could be like (will be like) once there are no longer human beings to mess it up. The answer, of course, won't be simple; there'll be great beauty and tranquility (just no-one around to see it). But there'll also be acts of violent ferocity, such as that wrought by the recent gales on this tree...

 

George Formby 26 May 1904 – 6 March 1961

 Turned out nice again!

Albert the Tortoise

New books aren't always celebrated on World Book Day. It's more often a day to revisit old pages, dress up as much-loved, long-established characters and venerate established authors. 

So I'm not going to do any of those things myself and instead draw your attention to a charming new picture book by award-winning TV duo Brown & Clark. That's Albert Upside Down (the book) and Ian Brown (the author) and Eoin Clarke (illustrator). 

Albert the pet tortoise has a problem: trying to reach a tasty treat, he has ended up on his shell, upside down and stuck! Can the other garden creatures overcome their rivalry, team up and help him get back on his feet?

Inspired by the adventures of real-life Greek tortoise Albert, who was rescued more than 50 years ago and has lived happily with Ian's family ever since, this is a timeless tale that uses humour to show children the power of working together and thinking creatively, and how even the smallest amount of help can make a very big difference. Vibrantly illustrated by animation director Eoin Clarke, part of the animation team behind CBBC's Operation Ouch and ITV's You’ve Been Framed, Albert and his garden friends are set to capture the hearts of children everywhere. 


Albert Upside Down also includes fascinating facts about these modern-day mini-dinosaurs living life on the veg. Did you know that tortoises… are among the most ancient creatures on Earth? The largest can weigh 250kgs? They live on every continent except Antarctica? Or that these ancient creatures were among the first living things to visit the Moon...?!
No, neither did I! But that's just a few of things you'll take away from this charming, original and informative book. But don't just take my word for it. Look what others think: 
"Beautiful, heart-warming and wonderfully illustrated. I am in love with Albert!"Julian Clary, Comedian, Writer & Author of The Bolds children’s series
"What a treat for our youngest book-lovers – and for grown-ups who will guide them through it. Stunning illustrations and well-chosen words tell the story of Albert the tortoise getting back on his feet after a fall, helped by a somewhat disorganised band of garden creatures." John Craven OBE, Countryfile, Newsround
"A great little story of coming together to help those in need & fantastically illustrated."Joe Sugg, Star of YouTube, Strictly Come Dancing & creator of the Username graphic novel YA series
"Ian Brown tells us Albert's heart-warming story, and makes us laugh along the way. Eoin Clarke's illustrations are stunning. What a lovely book. What will Albert get up to next? I can't wait." Michael Aspel, TV Presenter Legend.
Albert Upside DownWritten by Ian BrownIllustrated by Eoin ClarkeGraffeg | 27 April 2021 | 3+Paperback | £7.99 | 9781913634162Interactive ebook also available#AlbertTheTortoise

Diary: The Book of my Enemy...

I've amused myself this week by delving into the Royal Society of Literature's archive in order to write one of their short "Only Connect" pieces. I chose a fascinating talk recorded in 2014 just as the country geared up to a four years long commemoration of the Great War's centenary. 

Voices of the Great War is about the literature that was inspired by and created during the conflict. It's always going to be a poignant subject. So many writers, as Tobias Hill says of Alain-Forniere, had “such great potential” or were “on the cusp of achieving something great” when they were killed. Others might have lived to tell the tale, but it was a tale few back home actually wanted to hear in the immediate aftermath of what they already thought of as a 'war to end all wars'. 

But, as Peter Parker says in his introduction, "there are few [of us] whose families aren’t in some way touched by the Great War." Most of us have a personal story to tell. Whilst, in public, “controversy about its causes, consequences and costs persist,” says Parker. 

They always will. The Great War will be our Troy, every bit as futile and almost as long, as well as the inspiration for similarly great literature. Our Ajax by Timberlake Wertenbaker makes this link between past and present wars explicit. As she says, "writers, male and female, are tormented by war. Our job is to look at human beings, preferably with love and with at least some sympathy and to try to make sense. But with war we’re suddenly forced to look at events where sense, or more often than not, sympathy, cracks open."

No wonder we can't take our eyes off them. It's like driving past a car crash or a murder scene. Morbidly irresistible. Those battlefield “poppies whose roots are in man’s veins” as Isaac Rosenberg once wrote, are rooted in our living blood as well. 

Elsewhere, "the book of my enemy" hasn't exactly "been remaindered" (I'm reminded of the phrase, I hope, because I'm currently re-reading Even As We Speak by Clive James, finding sparkling jewels of language on almost every page) because (a) the author isn't my enemy (friend, I suppose, in an online sense) and (b) because her book has only just been published, and published to much acclaim. A Guardian review by Blake Morrison, no less, called it "moving and joyous". My better instincts are to join in the applause for Josie George. Like me, she suffers from an incurable, chronic illness; like me, she's been writing a memoir about it. Unlike me, hers has just been published while I'm still trying to get someone interested in mine. And that last fact, however hard you try, keeps on getting in the way of my otherwise unalloyed praise, applause and admiration. Because... because it's how we writers are, I suppose. 

I work my frustrations out on a design for the cover of my own book, which I like. Should it come to going it alone, this is how it'll look. It's not Bloomsbury, it's not reviews in the national dailies, but it's ok...

Writing's like that. You've got to take the rough with the smooth or you'd never get anything done. But it can be hard, on the one hand, to be engaging with the likes of the RSL and, on the other, going cap-in-hand to agents and publishers hoping one of them will like it enough even to bother replying to my email. At least George proves you can do it without patronage, without sleb status and without insider knowledge. 

And that fact is as joyous as anything that's actually in her memoir! 

Diary: A Shot in the Arm

Last March, shielding letter in hand, with infection rates rising and the death toll escalating, I would lie awake at night wondering if I'd be next. It was fine during the day. We were all at home, the sun was shining; we'd go walking daily; family life had never seemed so good. It was almost like being on holiday. But at night I was convinced the cocktail of drugs I take regularly to control arthritis would inevitably lead to a lonely death in a sealed ward, separated from the very loved ones whose company at home I was now so enjoying.

I stopped self-injecting my fortnightly dose of imralumab; I'd already decided to stop taking methotrexate. Both drugs are designed to go to war with my over-active immune system and I figured my immune system might actually benefit from being strong in the face of Covid. I was more terrified of dying a lonely death than I was of lying crippled with swollen joints.

A year on, so much has changed. Not least, the jab which I had this week - better late than never as it seems, in spite of my shielding letter, I'd been overlooked when the lists of the 'vulnerable' were drawn up. But it also turns out that one of the drugs I self-inject (or one very similar) is actually being given to elderly patients with Covid-19 in order to reduce the inflammation wrought by the ravages of the infection. 

And that, as much as my Covid-jab, has been a real shot in the arm.

In other news, last week's snowmen Barney and Bernard look to have started their Lent fast early. 

At least it proves the (rising) mercury diet is working although it's still too early to think of Spring. It's too early to think of giving stuff up for Lent, too, only fifteen days after emerging from a (successful) dry January. This year, instead, I may try to take something up. Painting, perhaps, rather more regularly than the thrice-yearly creation of a greetings card for Sarah. On the subject of which, here's this year's effort for St Valentine's Day...

It's Lincoln cathedral in silhouette (which is the only way I can possibly depict it) in case you should be in any doubt on the matter. And I could hardly blame you if you were. Still, the effect of the setting sun works, I think. The secret seems to be leaving what you want to the brightest section of the picture blank. Not painting, in other words. Which means that the most successful effect derives from not doing anything at all. 

Which is almost the same as giving up, isn't it? Back to the drawing board...  

Stop daydreaming!

 You know, there are still a few people who think teachers have it easy, what with "all those holidays". I imagine they're getting fewer and further between as frazzled parents realise there's a lot more to making learning happen than turning up at school at eight-thirty in the morning. 

But I digress. If, like me, your mind is already beginning to turn to next week and another term of homeschooling, read on. Because in my now semi-regular resources round-ups, I've come across Wales-based educational resources provider Daydream Education. And it has just made a selection of its downloadable study tools available FREE to support home education during lockdown. 

Chris Malcolm, MD of Daydream, says: "Home study can be stressful for both parents and children and we hope that by providing a selection of free resources via our website, we’ll be able to help them through this challenging time.”

You can find out more about Daydream Education by clicking here: https://www.daydreameducation.co.uk/

And to go straight to free resources, click here: https://www.daydreameducation.co.uk/free-worksheet-resources 

 

A Delicate Contrivance

A Delicate Truth by John le Carré

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


The Cold War is a very real memory for me: living under the permanent shadow of a mushroom cloud, CND marches, Greenham women, those massive North Korean shows of arms that used to trundle through Red Square before the waxwork mannequins of the politburo welcomed them with their robotic, pathetic applause. But the dark recesses of the spy networks that spread like mycelium were hidden, intentionally, behind the biff-bash bravado of James Bond. Although I admire le Carre's Smiley novels for their craft, enjoy them for their plot and engage with them as wonderfully written entertainments, I don't quite have the same personal investment as I do, say, for the ideas behind shady, state-sponsored arms deals (The Night Manager) or, as in this case, the ethically abhorrent notions of private security and extraordinary rendition. Add to that another extraordinarily well-crafted plot (ok, with one or two rather remarkable - and fictionally necessary - coincidences) and you've got another cracker of a book from a master storyteller with a ventriloquist's way of inhabiting a wide range of characters. A plan goes wrong, as it was almost destined to: another fuck-up not, this time, by "the service" or as the result of treachery but plain old, simple stupidity. But that's not the end of the story. Because things then slowly unravel like so many loose threads then, as events move on, unspool with all the rapidity of a roll of film unhinged from the projection apparatus.

I see from other reviews that many people found the ending of this novel unsatisfying. It’s ambiguous, sure. But that’s fine by be: I enjoy being given the freedom to fly at the end of a book like this, if only because it staves off the disappointment of not agreeing with the author’s chosen ending. That happens, even with a Master of le Carré’s stature. The end of "Tinker, Tailor” certainly qualifies: I want Bill Haydon to get away to Russia on some agent exchange and be condemned to live an alcoholic half-life in a dreary Moscow apartment: this is what your treachery was for, this, your promised land. A swift (and merciful?) death at the hands of Jim Prideaux is too good for him; he deserves the death-in-life of a dismal exile. There are no such problems here: far from it. And I like that. What I found harder to credit were the odd (and slightly less-than-credible) plot twists. How did Kit find Toby? And who delivered the letter at 3am in the morning? And would Toby have travelled to Cornwall so readily? Other characters conveniently disappear: the corrupt junior minister; the Foreign Office senior mentor (in the latter case to reappear almost as conveniently). It’s all a bit too contrived, and although I can’t not say I liked the book, it had just a few too many irritants like this for me to love it.



View all my reviews

Diary: Let it Snow!

This week, overnight, we suddenly have a decent snowfall and wake up next day to enough of the white stuff for a proper snowman! Then, a day later, another snowfall - and another snowman. Meet Barney and his big brother... or should I say 'big sister'. Apparently "their" name (pronouns: they, them, their) is 'Belinda"! What do I know? 

Being at home certainly has its advantages when it comes to building snow, er... persons. And while my daughter happily plays outside I'm watching another set of white-clad individuals in India, having finally remembered that there's a decent session of test cricket on Channel Four in the mornings. And the best thing is the cricket fills that hour or so when my daughter needs to use my laptop for homeschooling, time I otherwise fritter away rather aimlessly. The problem is I'm chained to the house; I can't even go for a walk in case I'm needed either for some tech-related issue or a work-related problem. This, I have discovered, is the perfect solution.

Just call me if you have a problem, darling!

18+ Fun Science Experiments

Hands up who's teaching electronics during #homeschooling?

No, me neither. Or I wasn't, until we were sent this little marvel courtesy of toysandbears.com

18+ Fun Electronic Experiments is a simple and effective was to learn all about electric current and how it powers different devices. And above all, it's FUN! They're spot on when they says that these wonderful STEM kits will "brighten your child’s day, and perhaps even free you up to make an uninterrupted cup of tea at the same time". 

Except for the tea, that is. Because I want to play too!

The kit, which is manufactured by Small World Science, contains 19 experiments (hence, 18+... that's not an age restriction!) ranging from simple "on/off" circuits powering LEDs and flying fans to more sophisticated morse code kits, delay switches and even voice-activate and speed adjustable controls. The wires (supplied) are secured in position on the circuit board by nifty little spring clips, perfect for little fingers: no screwing or soldering in sight!

All you have to do is supply a couple of AA batteries and you're away... quite literally in the case of the flying fan which has so far provided hours of entertainment, while at the same time sneaking in a decent dose of learning. It's like hiding the veg. kids don't like in something they love so they won't notice!

And they'll love this. 

Highly recommended!

18+ Fun Electronic Experiments rrp £27.99 is now only £22.99 right here: https://toysandbears.com/toys/18-fun-electronic-experiments/