Mornin' Gov.
Sunday Journal
Contributor: David Steele   
Sunday, 27 January 2008

Report on visit to Stile Common Infant and Nursery School

12 June 2007

“Before we talk about behaviour in the school,” Mrs Horton advised me, “You need to understand the social context in which the school is set.”

I had decided to concentrate on bullying and behaviour issues as the focus of my visit, having recently completed a course on these topics. Armed with all those great ideas and information on best practice, I wanted to see how the school measured up, and what could be done to make things better.

But first, I had to learn about what made Stile Common different, and exactly what the schools policy means to a child who walks through its doors.

“We have magic doors here.” Mrs Horton said, with a completely straight face. “It’s the first rule; no matter what goes on outside – it stays outside. As soon as a child, a parent, or a member of staff sets foot in the building, they are in an entirely different place and we do things differently here.”

“This is a challenging catchment area. We have a lot of social depravation here, many of the children have massively complicated problems at home, either with their parents, their older brothers and sisters, or just with the friends they mix with. Of our hundred and sixty one pupils, we have over 50% receiving free school dinners. We have over 35% on the special needs register, and many Child Protection issues.”

“But this school has a central role in the community. And this is what’s so important for you to understand: a lot of our effort is being spent in skilling the parents. Many of our mums and dads are very young, and haven’t learned the skills they need to ensure their children achieve their full potential. We have several programmes which help them to get to grips with the basics. Some people might not know how to cook the most nutritious and cost effective food. And if we can offer that sort of service, then so much the better.”

That set alarm bells ringing. The school is funded to teach children. Surely there are no resources given over to the education of parents?

“We get a little income from hiring out our computer suite. And there are certain grants, such as Excellence in Cities, but no. Most of what we offer has to be at minimal or zero cost, but it’s so important that it continues.”

So if we have adults learning here too, should we be discussing parental discipline as well as that of the children?

“We lose pupils to neighbouring schools because of that. Sometimes people turn up to drop their children off and see parents fighting in the playground. Or they hear swearing. We get a lot of that. I’ve even had to move drug dealers on from time to time. But it’s a pity when they let what they see outside put them off, because, as I’ve said; we have magic doors here. And they really do work.”

But surely, there’s going to be some sort of overspill. It’s not possible to leave an evening of domestic violence at the door if you’re five years old.

“That’s such an important point, and it’s at the heart of what I need from my staff. It’s absolutely vital that the teachers, the assistants, the reception staff, who ever, gets to know and understand the children. It’s no use to me to have a member of staff who can give a fantastic lesson on numeracy if they don’t take the time to find out that the girl at the front has a mum in hospital after an overdose. If you’ve spent the night listening to all sorts of unmentionable horrors, you’re not going to feel like adding a shopping list up.”

But what about when that frustration boils over, and pupils become disruptive?

“Something I’m fond of saying is that everyone has a right to be taught and we have a right to teach. We do insist that a certain code of behaviour is followed, but our method is positive rather than negative. We use a system of reward for even small things. It’s an aspirational system that everyone wants to get involved in.

“If anyone does something good, we notice. It doesn’t have to be anything special. It can be something as mundane as working quietly, or using good table manners. Walking down a corridor without shouting. Anything we see that’s good behaviour. We also reward academic achievement, but if a child is incapable of reaching the same standards as the rest of the class there’s not much point in a system that doesn’t recognize and reward effort.”

The school has a Golden Assembly for parents and children every Friday. This is quite a special occasion where good behaviour is recognised in a very public way. Achievers are called out from the audience to receive Golden Tickets – certificates with their name on – for various things. If the child gets 5 Golden Tickets, they will be able to choose a special Golden Prize from the Golden Bag. It’s something that the children themselves get to pick, as Mrs Horton explains.

“It’s almost always something involving spending time with the parent. Sometimes it might be to go shopping, so we give them a £5 Early Learning Centre voucher. We’ve also had cinema tickets, meals out, ten pin bowling. We have to be careful that it’s appropriate to the child in question, but otherwise we’re flexible.

“But the best part about winning a Golden Prize is that they get to sit on the Golden Chair. It’s a very special honour when you’re their age! When that happens we take their photograph and put it in our Golden Gallery. That’s our Hall of Fame that everybody sees on their way to the dining hall.

“And we also have collective efforts as well. All our staff carry shiny glass beads with them, and they dish them out as on-the-spot rewards. Each class has a jar, and when the jar is full, there’s a special treat in store for everybody. Perhaps a little extra play time, perhaps a story. Again, it’s very popular and a great way to build teamwork.”

But so far all we had discussed was about how the school dealt with the positive side of behaviour management. I wanted to know if the Stile Common Method was entirely reward based or if there were punishment strategies as well?

“Oh yes. There are sanctions. Fortunately they don’t get used so often. Every class has about thirty blue chairs in it, but as you walk round, you’ll also spot that there is just one chair in every class room that is green. This is the Thinking Chair. It’s our Time Out space. When you’re on the chair you have to sit very quietly and think about what you have done, or not done. We have 6 Golden Rules, and most misdemeanors transgress one of these. We used to make disruptive children sit out in the corridor, but all the while they were doing that they were missing out on lessons. So now, we have the green chair, and they absolutely hate it. I’m sure it’s as much to do with the colour difference as anything else. They feel out of place.”

“In severe cases we have a Red Card system. It’s for genuinely anti-social behaviour like acts of aggression, racism or foul language. Any pupil with a red card will miss the next playtime by default. It’s surprising how quickly they learn to avoid getting them when they see their friends having more fun.”

On every Monday, each child is also given 30 minutes ‘Golden Time’ where they choose to do an activity for thirty minutes that is different to usual. The children choose the activities, such as fruit kebab making, jam sandwich making (and eating), parachuting. If a child breaks a golden rule, they lose 5 minutes of this time, and they have to sit in their chosen activity, watching their friends have fun, contemplating where they went wrong. Good behaviour can mean a return of the 5 minutes too.

So how does this system actually work? It sounds great to hear about the theory, but what about the difference it makes to the pupils?

My two guides arrived looking eager to show me about the place. I’ve no doubt that Mrs Horton picked two of the brightest stars in the school to look after me, but I was still struck by their confidence and ability to focus. Let’s call them Ben and Jill, as the names are small, and easy to type.

The very first thing I was taken to see was the Golden Gallery. “This is where we go when we get 5 Golden Tickets!” Ben tells me. “I was on last year. I’ve had fourteen!”

“I’ve had four.” Jill joins in. “But I’m going to get five.”

Then we went off to the dining hall.

“You’re not allowed to shout when you have your dinner.” Jill tells me. “But you get Golden Mentions if you eat nicely.”

“And do you like that?” I asked. “Isn’t it more fun to be allowed to make plenty of noise?”

“No.” Ben looks genuinely unsettled at the thought. “It’s much better if we’re sat quietly. And if you eat and shout at the same time you might choke.”

Sound advice.

We toured a few classrooms. Starting with the younger age-groups. They were packed full of little people, all eager to know what I was there for. There were adults amongst the activity, but it didn’t look like there was any one lesson being taught. It was more like walking through a village fete and looking at all the stalls.

“You get to choose what you want to do, some of the time.” Ben said. “And some times you get told what to do.”

A bit like life, then. It was odd. Most unlike the lesson’s I’d had as a child, but there was nobody sat idle. Everyone was engaged in some sort of task and nobody looked bored.

We walked through the cloakrooms and into the hall, where a rather noisy PE session was in place. Children were taking it in turns to make their way over climbing frames and across benches several feet off the ground. “This is a Pirate’s Picnic.” Ben announced. “It’s loads of fun.”

We saw the library, we played with an interactive white board, and then passed some toilets.

Now, this is one of the things I was warned about on my course. In any school where bullying is a problem, the children will hate to use the toilets. Indeed, children have been known to avoid drinking just to avoid them during the day. Trying to sound casual, I gestured at the bright yellow walls and asked, “What are the toilets like here?”

Jill looked puzzled. She thought deeply for a moment, before answering “Yellow.”

“But what are they like to use?”

Now it was Ben’s turn to look bewildered. “Like the ones at home?”

Enough said.

There was a lot of noise from a neighbouring room. It was building by the moment and I was sure it was evidence of a class that had fallen out of control. Bracing myself for the worst, I peaked in through a window.

Inside, a line of children was marching in, one by one. There was a single string which was threaded through a lot of blue balloons. The children each had a hand to this string, and carried it over their heads like a Chinese dragon. As they snaked around the classroom, their noise level rose, and they marched and stamped in single file between the desks, led, I eventually realised, by a male teacher who seemed to be enjoying himself just as much as the rest of his class. It may have been a noisy lesson, but what ever they were learning, it was obvious that they were completely focused on it.

Jill led me through a different door. “This is our class” She said. “We’ve been doing all about lines. Come and see our pictures.”

And so I did. I admired their artwork, which they were very eager to show. And then we spent a little while discussing the merits of horizontal, vertical and diagonal lines.

And then I thought it was time for some harder questions.

Back when I did my course, I’d been told that the two best questions you could ask to identify a school with bullying problems were ‘What’s the best thing about this school?’ and ‘What’s the worst thing about this school?’ The responses, in establishments with discipline problems, should indicate that children dislike spending time unsupervised. Break times would be unpopular. The toilets would be no go areas. Structured lessons would be a relief from all that threatening interaction.

So, I asked.

“What’s the best thing about the school?”

“When you can go out to play.” Jill beamed.

“And some times if you’ve been a good class you get an extra play time!” Ben added.

Okay. So what’s the worst thing about the school?

“If you’ve been naughty you have to sit on the Thinking Chair.” Ben pointed to the solitary green chair to the side of the room.

“It’s green.” Jill announced. As if this explained everything.

“And if you’re really bad you get a red card.” Ben said, his tone heavy with significance. “And then you miss play time.”

It was a damper on the moment. And I waned to end on a high.

“I understand you have special rules here, is that right?”

“We’ve got Golden Rules.” Ben said. “Always be honest, Do listen, ….”

“Hold on. Give Jill a chance!”

She didn’t need telling twice. “Take Care of Property” She finished quickly, before Ben had a chance to steal any more of her thunder.

I thanked them for a smashing visit and let them go back to their studies. My own visit was over, with two hours flying by almost unnoticed.

On the way back, I called in at the staff room, where three pupils were sat in the corridor waiting for a teacher to write their names in a large, red book. “Red Cards from playtime.” She explained.

Well, maybe the magic doors don’t work on everyone. But if they did, what would we do with all our green chairs?