Last Summer, we moved -- despite the Brexit vote-- to London. We had some trouble deciding where to live being constrained by logistical challenges (my wife works in Kent a few days a week; I commute to Amsterdam) and finances (housing costs in London are an order of magnitude more expensive than anything we were used to). But the decisive consideration turned out to be our son's schooling. As the moving date approached, we discovered that he was unable to enroll in any of the state schools we had hoped he could attend. Through a family friend we heard about a lovely, private school near Hampstead Heath, where her daughters were thriving. The school was co-ed (not very common in London) and emphasized play and out-door activity on the Heath. While our son would have to wear a uniform a few days a week, it seemed closer in spirit to the relative informality he was used to in Amsterdam than the other schools we had visited.
We expected a tough transition for him, but after a few weeks it was clear that he was making lots of friends, was thriving at math, and having no trouble with spelling or other linguistic issues. (We had raised him bi-lingual, but he had always been taught in Dutch schools.) He would go singing to school and seemed enchanted with his new environment. It was only near the end of his first term that some signs of trouble started to appear.
At first it seemed to involve a surprisingly stark cultural/sociological/normative difference between child-rearing practices in (bourgeois) Amsterdam and (bourgeois) London. In Amsterdam, when kids get into minor spats with each other (on the play-ground, during intermission, etc.) the norm is 'to let the kids sort it out themselves' and so teachers and, especially, parents are encouraged not to intervene (unless there is blood, serious violence, etc.). The idea behind the norm seems to be to teach mutual responsibility, caring for the group, and self-sufficiency. (These values tie into significant Dutch norms about intra-group policing/disciplining.) In London, in the very same circumstances, kids are encouraged to step back and to find a nearest authority figure and let that figure adjudicate the situation. This seems to teach avoidance of conflict and deference to authority with, perhaps, an appeal to fair play or stable norms.
When he started to experience the new norm my son found this bewildering: his friends would actively snitch on each other. I did not think much of it except to mark the surprising contrast in norms of child rearing in capital cities that shared so many features (intertwined business capitals, shared youth culture, long commercial and imperial histories, protestant elites softened by pragmatism, constitutional monarchies, etc.). But after a while I could tell our son was suffering because in his perception he was often being singled out unfairly. Because he is quite tall for his age I assumed that his height and strength made his teachers caution him and that this would pass.
But, as it turned out, as time passed, our son was getting more disgruntled. He started to be less cheerful and less eager to go to school. My wife and I started to get concerned and wondered if he was having a delayed reaction to the move (he would sometimes express longing for his friends and family back in Holland). But while a Dutch, seven year old won't share everything that is bothering him, he will make his dislikes known. (The nice correlative of this is that he is also explicit about his likes and joys.) And it was clear that he had come to dislike his class-room teacher.
At this point, I need to introduce an aside. Our son has always been rather reticent about sharing his school experiences. At first, this was a great disappointment because I was eagerly awaiting details of his stories and adventures. But I came to admire his desire to keep the world of home and the world of school as distinct realms. So, the fact that he started to share (unpleasant) stories about school was disconcerting.
The complaints were really two-fold: first, he felt she was unfairly singling him out at any disturbance. Second, he felt his achievements were not being recognized. This last point turned on the teacher's use of a sticker system. For reasons one may well understand (but need not approve) she used a sticker system to encourage weaker students. The stickers were publicly visible on one of the walls of the classroom. Interestingly enough, my son -- an above average pupil -- treated these stickers as a matter of justice and found the way these were parceled out manifestly unfair (because they did not track merit).*
When we tried to speak to the teacher she showed a surprising lack of interest in engaging with us. But when I ended up speaking to the assistant principal he let it be known that he did not approve of this use of the sticker system, but that he respected teacher autonomy. He promised to observe the class-room. He reported back that, indeed, our son was often unfairly singled out for disapproval. We kind of assumed that would lead to corrective action, but as the weeks passed it was clear our son was not cheering up and the school unresponsive. In fact, the school principal was simply unavailable (too distracted by the expansion she was directing).
At this point, I need to introduce a further aside. In the nurture/nature debate, I am officially, methodologically on the side of nurture. But I have to admit that as a parent, I have been impressed by my son's distinct character from the start. (I really mean infancy here; I am still willing to believe stuff about brain plasticity, but I have become rather agnostic about any parental shaping of kids. The best we can hope for is to provide safety and regularity and the rest is out of our hands.) He has a cheerful disposition, and except for when he is tired and hungry (he calls it hangry), he is an extremely easy kid to be around. His teachers always loved him because he is both smart and eager to please. I sometimes joke that when you cross-mate two neurotics, you get a calm, peripatetic sage. (No, of course I am not biased!) But our kid was moody, sleeping irregularly, and changing character in front of our eyes.
Suddenly, six months -- until the end of school year -- seemed like an eternity to pass through. And so reluctantly (what kind of awful parents were we to inflict another major change in such a short period of time on our son!) decided to switch schools for the final term. A few months ago he started at his new school. Some other time I'll discuss the regular appeals to Bentham's and Benthamite philosophy of education -- wisdom and joy -- we encountered there.
Our son was assigned to Mrs. Robinson, an experienced teacher. I did not hear anything about her. When prompted, he describes her as really nice, and a little bit of strictness. (He also calls her "the very best teacher I have ever had.") Today, at the year-end-assembly, I caught up with her. After thanking her for all her efforts, I could report to her with gratitude, she gave back our child to us.
*I started to check out the stickers in the class room every so often; and while he had more stickers than I expected, he did have relatively few compared to his classmates.
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