Spring on Swan Corner

Swan Corner's second AGM is this Tuesday (14th April).  It's been a busy year with plenty going on, and plenty planned for the coming year.  Here's a few photos from this weekend on the corner, showing some of our hard work springing back to life:

Japanese knotweed no more, but litter still to do

Three litter picking days so far this year

Litter gone!  Well, almost

Willow 'fedge' budding 

Three new damson trees join the apple and pear trees this year

Fruit bushes and trees springing back to life

New hazel leaves 

Hellebores flowering in the borders

Oz, our litter picking organiser, with apple blossom about to flower

Bulbs in with the strawberries

Quince, pear, blackcurrant, and gooseberry in front of the Billesley

Paper Aeroplanes

Woodchip Vigilante

Jago's Pirate treasure!

For the past year I've been harbouring a criminal - my son. It started as innocent playing around in the school playground. Then he'd have special items he'd bring home. Now it's daily pockets full of the stuff I'm pulling out to save our poor old washing machine.

It's nice stuff, too. Not the stuff you get free from the council on allotments, but washed, treated, splinter free -  you can pay £15 a bag for from garden centres.

A couple of weeks ago the reception play area was finally cordoned off with red and white tape. Initial thoughts were, what if all the children were taking woodchip? Did teaching staff uncover a tunnel? Was  my little Jago selling woodchip on black market?

Rumours among parents was fox poo in the play area, confirmed in school newsletter when it was announced woodchip was to be replaced by rubber.

As a parent, I can understand removal of poo is unpleasant, but how much of a risk is poo, which is afterall easily identified and removed in woodchip in the daily morning risk assessment schools carry out - (look for flies and signs of digging).

How effective is rubberising a playground in removing risks? Where there are foxes there will be rats, cats and they'll need to poo somewhere. Short of corking the wildlife, you will get poo in a playground.  Is rubberizing really safeguarding our children, or a token gesture? Do the children only play on a large plain of clean rubber, or will some find the holes in the hedge, the dark corners under a tree, or the small gap between the shed and the classroom?

We've got quite a collection of notes from school for injuries of ever kind. Undoubtedly the playground is by far the most dangerous place in the school, but bumps and grazes are as likely on rubber, woodchip, grass or (dare we think it!) any more natural surfaces.  I'm all for removal and management of risks but shouldn't we be looking to see what the children are doing on, or with, any surface before we remove it? Are we risking sanitising another area of school while all the children play elsewhere?

Long may our kids bring home their treasures of gravel, woodchip, twigs and funny bits of plastic, unwanted and sometimes a little grubby, and here's hoping they end up in our garden, and not the washing machine.


Sent from my BlackBerry smartphone from Virgin Media

I DO listen - the NHS, Lansley and my children

After a pleasant walk around Moseley Bog and Sarehole Mill, I was crossing the road with all three children...or I thought I was.

Steve Bell (Guardian) on Lansley's listening exercise
Guardian Comment Cartoon

When I looked back Jago was holding the camcorder up recording the rest of the family crossing.  I shouted at him from the middle of the road, putting us all in danger of being run over.  It was a bit unfair, because it was my fault I hadn't noticed Jago had let go of the pushchair.

Having crossed Wake Green Road fairly safely, we had a long discussion about importance of listening, again.  Put me in mind of Mr Lansley - I'll come back to that.   Listening is something that comes up a fair bit in our house.  I remember when Arthur was in Reception, his teacher had us check his hearing because she was concerned about his hearing.  There was nothing wrong - far from it.  Our children all seem to have an incredible ability to concentrate, to the exclusion of everything else.  Also they are all well adjusted and confident and believe in their own abilities.  So much so, it can be hard to discuss things with them sometimes.  Jago's response was, 'I did hear you, I just wanted to make a film.'  

Discussion continued, 'sometimes you need to listen to what other people are saying':

'I do listen, I just know better.'

Sometimes he does, it's true.  But if we either don't listen, or express ourselves (talk) then it all breaks down.  I guess I'm hitting on something Winston talks about on 'Child of our tiime' (and Winnicott 1964, 'The Child, the family, and the outside world') - Maybe Jago is still developing his ability to empathise.

So what's going on with Mr Lansley and the nurses?  What kind of 'listening' is happening?  I found Dr Nadig's listening categories on the net helpful.  Is it combative, passive, or reflective listening?  And who's doing what? Below is rough outline of who said what:

• Lansley reviews consultation with NHS staff for white paper (November 2010), 'This is about us [staff in NHS] deciding these things...They're starting to get that now...overwhelming the responses have been supportive of the strategy...some of the principles are very widely supported'. [if you follow no other link, try this one]
• Nurses invite Mr Lansley to attend the Royal College of Nursing's Congress.
• Mr Lansley decides to turn down invitation 
• Nurses - accusations that his promise to "listen" to health professional over NHS reforms was a "sham"
• Mr Lansley agrees to meets nurses at Royal College of Nursing's Congress, says he is sorry if he had failed to communicate what he set out to do.
• The Royal College of Nursing give health secretary Andrew Lansley a vote of no confidence.

Loads of listening, talking, but all the evidence points to a breakdown in understanding.  What Mr Lansley is saying to the nurses is:

'I DO listen.  I just know better.'

Related articles

• http://www.pulsetoday.co.uk/story.asp?storycode=4127593
• Lansley faces nurse confidence vote (mirror.co.uk)
• Andrew Lansley receives vote of no confidence from Royal College of Nursing (telegraph.co.uk)
• Lansley facing RCN confidence vote (mirror.co.uk)
• Nurses pass vote of no confidence in 'gutless' Health Secretary Andrew Lansley (dailymail.co.uk)
• Andrew Lansley: reforms must be right for NHS (telegraph.co.uk)
• Nurses pass vote of no confidence in Lansley (independent.co.uk)
• Lansley faces no confidence vote (mirror.co.uk)
• Andrew Lansley apologises to nurses after NHS health reforms no-confidence vote (dailymail.co.uk)
• Apologetic Lansley 'here to listen' (mirror.co.uk)
• Active Listening (annsopendoor.wordpress.com)
• Teaching Children to Think, Robert Fisher, 2005
• http://www.mediplacements.com/article-800500943-nurses_vote_no_confidence_in.html
• http://www.guardian.co.uk/politics/2011/apr/13/andrew-lansley-sorry-to-nurses
• http://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/politics/listening-lansley-to-meet-nurses-after-all-2265444.html

So shines a good deed in a cruel word

A misquote from Shakespeare (thanks Bridget), these are the words of Willy Wonka at the pivotal  moment of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, the Gene Wilder version (1971), I was watching with my children the other day.  Grandad has just castigated Willy as an 'inhuman monster!' and Charlie and his Grandad are leaving the factory with nothing.  At this point Charlie Bucket turns around and gives Willy his last sweet.

A couple of days before my father died, we were visiting him.  None of us knew what to do or say, as we saw him conscious but weak in his hospital bed.  Jago, then aged 2, knew exactly what to do, stepping forward and giving his grandad his new (and treasured) toy car.  Perhaps a child's kindness should not be so surprising - On Thursday night I watched the second of Michael Mosley's 'The Brain: A Secret History'.  He shows footage of a key experiment in the 1950s, where an orphan monkey is given the choice of 'mothers'.  One is made of wire mesh with a milk bottle attached.  The other is wrapped in a cuddly towel.  While the monkey would feed from the mesh 'mummy', nearly all of his time was spent with the cuddly one, and the monkey clearly became attached to it.  At the time it was used as proof that love was in some way innate. Later experiments also showed that feelings like love and fear can also be induced or reduced through life experience.

I have been shamed by my children.  In December we passed a beggar with no arms.  Arthur (aged 7) was shocked we were walking past - 'We must give him some money!'  But last Friday, 2:00 in Small Heath, I didn't need my children to experience guilt.  I was stuck in traffic and I caught the eye of an old lady with a stick in one hand and a polystyrene cup in the other.  She began hobbling over to my car.  The lights changed, and I was slightly relieved to move off.  Minutes later I saw another old lady begging on the streets.  I could have stopped, but I didn't.

I understand that my actions may have little actual influence on events around me, but from a selfish point of view, there is something to be gained by showing small kindnesses, and something lost by walking on the other side.  I can wallow in my powerlessness to change the world, my inability to make the world a fairer place.  Or I can 'revel' in those feelings of guilt and failure, be frustrated, but know that I am responding to them.  My last year's resolution was to be nice to people.  This year I think I'll try and do more kind things too.

If it weren't for your gum boots

We're in New Zealand (try this link for gum boot song)!  Flight great and straight onto Waitomo caves youth hostel - big contrast with LA.  LA was great, but you've got to hold on tight to kids in the Metro (or anywhere else).  In Waitomo Arthur and Jago have made good friends with Pig 1 and Pig 2 (now Buttercup and Smiley) and straight into the new pool.  I suppose we should be worried about freak pig mauling incident, but somehow it seems easier, safer and more relaxed.

We visited the caves (second time we've visited caves this year).  Glow worms were amazing - children created a game 'glowworms and flies' chasing each other arround - amazing what they pick up, and what they do with it. The year before last we visited a 'coffin ship' in Ireland - Arthur and Jago spent the rest of the (long) journey playing an Irish famine/ desperate journey to America re-enactment.

Jago's first blog

I hope you're having a good time at school. I've been swimming lots, and I've been on a plane.

On the plane the telly had Cbeebies on and I looked out of the window and saw everything tiny.

We went to the hotel with the swimming pool in Los Angeles (Hotel Roosevelt). We went to a place with all the stars and the globe in it (Griffith Observatory). We went by train (LA Metro) and we went on a long, long walk.

There was mountain lions and rattle snakes. We only saw tracks of them, but we did see a woodpecker and squirrel.

My favourite bit was my weight on Jupiter and earth and all of those. On Jupiter I was 100! On earth I wasn't heavy.

Our first US burger chips and milkshake

We've made it to LA! We did have the only little children and 2 hours on ground before take off at Heathrow was tough. The air hostesses looked after us well, although a bit low on food for 12 hour flight.
Anyway, now comfy in upgraded kingsized beds watching TV and Arthur dancing off jetlag at 4 in morning. Planning walk in park to burn off monster burger and milkshake.

Arthur - 'I really like the palm trees, the swimming pool and the bright lights!' The olympic size swimming pool has Hockney 'squiggley lines'.

Jago says, 'It looks like a big city because it is a big city!' 'I like the swimming pool because it glows and is all squiggley.

Freya mostly likes squeezing into small gaps and shouting, 'I'm stuck!'

Nikki wants to go shopping, but we won't let her.

Language of a Professional

Jago was getting bored in the car. We told him, no, we're not nearly there. He said, 'It's alright for you. We're stuck back here like dogs!' He was spot on, in language everyone understood, and got me thinking about the language we use. We had a Bright Space Creative Agent meeting yesterday - the conversation came up again about training, creative agent as a profession and as a qualification. Wiki tells me a professional is 'is a member of a vocation founded upon specialised educational training'.

Our profession is developing its training, but the language of a creative agent is already very much in place. We categorise creativity into nine different, distinct sub-headings. We talk about 'triangulation' in order to ensure '360 degrees evaluation'. Much of the language is created or reinvented to describe our key areas of interest - creativity, reflection, ownership and is borrowed from the lexicon and pedagogies already in our schools, although little understood by anyone outside of education. We have a very big folder with an extensive 'toolbox' of paperwork.

Our language is, as more widely in education, beginning to be used to differentiate us, professionalise us, assure quality. The purpose of creating a profession might be 'quality assurance', but even if we promote creativity in all, our language already promotes a lack of understanding. Any qualification risks creating an elite in critical friendliness, a division from the other creative professionals (and amateurs) we hope to create partnership with, and a move away from our core beliefs of creative learning we evangelise in our schools.

Easy for me to say, being well qualified and in work (for the time being), but I would rather focus on the issues of 'quality assurance', developing new and confident Creative Agents, supporting existing creative agents, without an expensive and questionable qualification.

Are we creative agents really so frightened, so misunderstood, we need to create a qualification? We need to support each other to ensure quality, rely on our strengths as very different, individual creative agents, and reach out to everyone using language easily understood. We need to stand side by side with communities, schools, children and creative practitioners. No special language, no magic tricks, no qualification needed.

Holiday homework

On last day of holiday in Ilfracombe Arthur decided he wanted to map out the next one, incorporating Brazilian rainforest, New York, Sidney, Antartica and New Zealand.

We are planning an Xmas visit to my sister in New Zealand this year, following a holiday of a lifetime three years ago when we first went out there. Our school threatened us with loosing Arthur's school place if we take Arthur out of school for any time in the next five years, which makes a trip to NZ very tricky.

Odd, when research clearly identifies 80% of learning happens outside the classroom, and that schools want to involve parents more in learning, that such a fantastic opportunity is not just ignored, but actively discouraged.

In the last year the schoolwork that have most excited Arthur (and us parents) was 'The Great Fire of London' and 'Brazilian rainforest'. We visited London, went down Pudding Lane, climbed monument, walked around Thames, visited 'The Museum of London', had a great day out that contextualised 'The Great Fire' for Arthur and Jago (3 years old). Shame not to have picked a Birmingham based topic, and admittedly, not everyone gets the chance to visit London, nevermind the Brazilian rainforest, but at least we got to find out about the topic with Arthur.

Schools should actively involve and encourage parents to take part in learning, and support parents and children bringing their learning back to the classroom. To only value learning in the classroom reinforces an insular view of school disconnected with our reality and unimportant to our lives.