Is the language of war really appropriate when speaking about education?

Debra Kidd asks if politicians would kindly stop “waging war on mediocrity” or referring to “enemies of promise and dealers in despair”...

In their groundbreaking book Metaphors We Live By, Lakoff and Johnson unpick the role of language in shaping our attitudes and views of the world. Language matters and increasingly neuroscientists and cognitive psychologists are discovering the complex ways in which what we hear impacts on what we do and feel. Our hands will prime for movement when we hear the word ‘giving’ for example, or we will move more slowly after reading a text with words associated with old age. What we say matters – it sets out our stall and teaching children to use language kindly, positively and judiciously is one of the most important things we can do as teachers.

In this, we act as role models. Having positive views of children, framing our feedback in ways that support rather than undermine, opening ourselves up to challenge and possibility – these are all ways in which we demonstrate good relationships.

Wouldn’t it be lovely if politicians and figureheads of education did the same? Instead of saying “we are waging war on mediocrity” as David Cameron did, why not say “we recognise that there are still areas for development in our schools and we will seek to support those teachers who are struggling”. I know it’s not catchy, but as Mick Waters said at the Northern Rocks conference in June, “For a senior public servant to use such language – a language that should be reserved for murderous dictators, not other public servants to whom he has a duty of care – is disgraceful.”

This damaging rhetoric is repeated time and again by people in positions of authority in education – from Michael Gove’s “enemies of promise and dealers in despair” to Michael Wilshaw who declared in June that a leader who “instilled fear and dread amongst both students and staff”was one to be admired. He went on to talk about his belief that heads should write ‘nasty’ letters to parents and in July accused leaders of being ‘poor’ if children did not stand when they entered a room.

I don’t want to work in a place where fear and dread are ‘inspired’ – I want to work with people who inspire hope, aspiration and confidence. I don’t want children to stand when I enter a room – I would rather they smiled. What a dreadful set of values to promote to children and to the teachers caring for them.

In our classrooms our words can shape lives. We can all remember teachers who built us up and ones who knocked us down with words. We should be aiming for words that show children that it is possible to live in a world with people who have different points of view and to recognise that they can also be right. We need to model for children respectful and positive interactions that allow for constructive forms of dissent and disagreement and diversity.

In their book Make it Stick, Brown et al have gained a great deal of attention for their promotion of regular low-stakes testing and spaced practice in securing learning, but they also place emphasis on articulacy as a means by which learning is made memorable for children. Articulacy – being able to explain a concept in your own words and to teach it to others – is a hugely powerful trigger for memory. Far too little emphasis on articulacy is placed in our curriculum. And being articulate is about more than simply explaining what you have learned.

Building vocabulary, being able to select from a vast menu of words to make your point without offending; being able to accept, understand and develop another’s ideas; being able to conduct with confidence, a response to an unexpected question or dilemma; to be able to state your position confidently and not combatively – these are highly-sophisticated skills and ones we should be working on constantly. Dialogic classroom practices – whether through drama or Philosophy for Children, through debate or simple conversation, is a vital experience for children. If we did it well then we might end up in a world where men of influence and power do not stand up in a room filled with thousands of teachers to state “there will be blood on the floor” as Wilshaw did in 2013. They will step up (not simply stand up), inspire, take the profession with them and finally make a difference.

About the author

Debra Kidd has worked in education for over 20 years, teaching children from the ages of four right through to post-graduate students. She has delivered CPD nationally and internationally.