Hypocrites, are we?

Teachers.  We’re not a popular lot.  Well, not if you believe everything that’s written in the Sunday Independent.  On Sunday 20th October, Daniel McConnell wrote this tirade where he reckons that members of the ASTI aren’t worthy to call themselves teachers.

This kinda annoyed me, and I’ve penned the following letter to the Sindo.  I wonder if they’ll publish it?

Madam,

Daniel McConnell doesn’t seem to like teachers too much. (Teachers! Spare us all your hypocrisy and false outrage.)  In the midst of his own outrage Mr. McConnell seems to have missed the point as to why members of the ASTI overwhelmingly voted in favour of industrial action.

The past 5 years of austerity have seen not so much as cuts in education, as attacks on education.

Yes, teachers have lost pay, but that is not the heart of the matter.  Schools are struggling to deal with the range and volume of cuts that have ravaged conditions in schools.  And this has a direct effect on the educational experience, attainment, and ambition of students.

The allowance that schools receive for each student (capitation) has been reduced; the student teacher ratio has been increased; the summer works grant was put on hold; SNA posts and Language Supports have been savaged; the National Educational Psychological Service has had its resources reduced, leading to less assessments for students with learning difficulties; the new junior cert programme is different to that agreed with the unions; guidance counsellors are no longer ex-quota; and, condescendingly, teachers are expected to work an extra 33 hours in school after normal hours (do they really think that teachers clock off at 4?)

Teachers are angry.  Despite the allegations of Mr. McConnell, we do care deeply about our students, we care enough to be looking to the future.  We worry that the attacks on education will continue, and thereby undermine our whole educational system. We care enough to say ‘enough is enough’.

Mr. McConnell, do you think maybe that teachers should continue to roll over and let cut after cut continue?  Perhaps, Mr. McConnell, before you accuse us of hypocrisy, you should remove the plank from your own eye.

John Hurley

Killeagh, Co. Cork

What Happens?

Only those intent on remaining blind wouldn’t know that we have a huge problem in this country when it comes to the welfare of our most vulnerable.

Children are being abused.  Abused physically, abused emotionally, abused sexually, and abused by neglect.  This is not a problem of the Catholic Church, or even of the HSE, it is a problem for all of us.

Our silence can be something that enables the abuser.  We often step away from conflict in the belief that ‘it’s not my problem’.  We often don’t see what we don’t want to see.

But I work in a school, and as with any school in the state system,  we have the potential to face any of the issues listed above.  Add to that issues such as depression or thoughts of suicide.  We don’t have the luxury of ignoring the signs, and sometimes schools are the places where abuse is disclosed, and where help begins.

If I were to suspect that a student has been abused in any form, or that a child is at risk, then legal process takes over.  My role at that point is to document clearly what has been said to me, and to bring the student to my principal.  The principals’ job is to contact the HSE, or if necessary, the Gardai.

But a referral to the HSE is only one step. What happens to a student after a referral has been made?  What supports are put in place?

Unfortunately, 5 years of cutbacks have ensured that far less resources are in place to help children who have been abused.  A simple example – CARI is an organisation that helps children who have been sexually abused.  CARI has had its funding reduced by the HSE.  How is a decision like that made?  How can someone decide to reduce counselling for an abused child?

In schools we try to do our best.  Guidance Counselors and Chaplains are trained in pastoral counselling (some have trained to become psychotherapists), and offer counselling within school.  But there is a limit to what you can do in a school setting.  Those who have been abused need proper care, they need guidance as they face into an unknown future that could involve Garda interviews, medical examinations, court appearances, and possibly being taken away from their family and into fostering – and this can be the best outcome for a child.

Our system isn’t perfect.  Philip Boucher Hayes has revealed horrific negligence in the case of Maggie.  He says he has evidence of a number of other cases.

And all of this is following a referendum that was supposed to enshrine the rights of children.  As my friend Donal O’Keeffe commented in his blog, it’s “No Country For Small Children

But it can be.  If we all do our part, if we all listen to what children are saying, and to what children are trying to say, then we can help them.

Note:  I’ve deliberately not given any stories or illustrations.  I make a promise to my students.  Privacy unless I think someone will get hurt.  I don’t want to reveal anything that may make a student feel that I’ve betrayed their confidence.

Lab Rats

In 1961 there was a very interesting psychology experiment done in America.  The name of the experiment was the ‘Milgram Experiment’

This is how it worked:

  • A volunteer went into a room and was given simple instructions.
  • Ask the subject in another room a series of questions
  • Each time that subject got a question wrong, press a button that would give him a mild electric shock
  • As the experiment went on, the electric shocks increased in intensity

Sounds simple, doesn’t it?  But there was a catch.  As the mild electric shocks got stronger, the subject ended up crying and begging for mercy, and the volunteer started looking for permission to stop (to no avail, a supervisor behind him insisted that the experiment had to be completed).  Eventually the subject ‘died’.  The volunteer in one case had been told that the subject had a heart condition.

Except that the real subject of the experiment was the volunteer.  No shocks were given, nobody died.  The purpose of the experiment was to show how people would continue to do something they didn’t like if they thought they were ordered to by authority.  You can read more about it here.

Now.  Let’s look at the mess that we are in at the moment.  We have a government telling everyone that the experiment (austerity) must go on.  The Troika demand that we get our financial house in order.  Many economists are advising us on how best to cut corners in Health, Education, and Justice.  The people who earn over €100,000 are telling the rest of us how we should manage to live on a lot less.

And we have the government telling us that they feel our pain.  That we must all make sacrifices.  That it’s for the good of the country.  Really?

I fail to see how stripping hospitals of nurses and doctors can possibly be the way forward for our health system.

I fail to see how cutting the grant to agencies who help homeless people can do anything to alleviate homelessness by 2016 (a government target)

I fail to see how reducing the health budget by 20% can do anything other than hurt people.  Perhaps we’re trying to make a big omelette and we just need to crack a few eggs.

I fail to see how it can be good for anyone when the organisation that represents our soldiers can state that 1,300 of their members claim social welfare supplements as wages are so low.

In the latest complaint over HSE overspend (?) the Department of Public Expenditure stated that “The pace of reform is set by management, not by unions”.  The implication being that unions are only worried about their own workers.

There is a lot to be angry about in Ireland at the moment.  A lot of people are hurting, a lot of people are excluded, and a hell of a lot of people are emigrating.

In the Milgram experiment if the volunteer was hesitant, the following instructions were given:

  1. Please continue
  2. The experiment requires that you continue
  3. It is absolutely essential that you continue
  4. You have no other choice.  You must go on.

Maybe it’s now time for us to end our own experiment.  Enough hurt has been caused.

Comments?

What’s the next step?

Yesterday evening I received a copy of directives from my union (The ASTI) regarding our action following rejection of the Haddington Road Agreement.  This was welcome after a week of scaremongering from official sources, and a barrage of negative publicity from others, including many branches of the media.

We have been warned to “think carefully” by the Taoiseach.  We have been told by a Labour Minister that there could be “compulsory redundancies“.  The ASTI look increasingly isolated in our position after we saw our colleagues in the TUI vote to accept the agreement.  Each union has held their democratic votes, and we respect each other’s decision.

So, what actions are planned by the ASTI?  The plan is three-fold:

  1. Don’t attend meetings that take place outside normal school hours
  2. If an unpaid job becomes available in the school (class tutor, exam secretary, etc) don’t take it on
  3. Do not take part in any further development on the new Junior Cert Curriculum

Teachers usually love their jobs.  We genuinely want our students to do well, to have a good experience of school, and be well prepared for life.  The reason that we are at this stage is that teachers see the quality of their work, the quality of education, being eroded due to the starving out of resources.

But industrial action is not easy, and not undertaken lightly.  Those of us protesting face a possibility of losing pay, but every so often I hear stories that remind me why I’m if favour of this action.

I could mention how the original Croke Park Agreement was due to last until 2014, or repeat many of the points I made I made in my previous post.  Instead allow me to recount how the cuts have affected a friend of mine:

Yesterday she recounted how her son, for the past month, has been coming home from primary school crying because he can’t hear what the teacher says, due to the noise levels in the classroom.  Why?  Because there are 36 other children in the class.  Close your eyes and imagine 37 eight year old children, and imagine the challenge of trying to teach them anything.  If you can’t imagine achieving that, then don’t feel bad.  I doubt there are many people who can maintain a class of 37 students for a school day, 5 days a week for a full school year.

And what’s it like for me to be facing into industrial action? Yesterday was unsettling. In our school are teachers who are members of the ASTI and of the TUI.  I worried that our colleagues in the TUI would somehow disapprove of our actions.  Our school’s open night will be on next week, and ASTI members are not supposed to attend.  All of this did not sit well with me yesterday, and then I slept on it.

I needn’t have worried.  My TUI colleagues have shown nothing but support.  I regret that I won’t be at the open night for our school next week, but I think that this is the lesser of two evils.

Teaching has faced enough cuts to resources – lets hope that our action will stop any further cuts.

Secondary School Unrest

Today my union, the ASTI voted to reject the Haddington Road Agreement.  This agreement is the latest cut in the death-by-a-thousand-cuts that is being inflicted on education in our country, and the public service in general.  In the same ballot, my union voted in favour of industrial action.  In each case the vote was carried by about two thirds.

Much of the commentary against teachers in this has been in relation to pay.  The refrain from our leaders has been ‘the public service is our biggest bill, and that’s where cuts need to be made.’   The implication, of course, is that everyone in the public sector is overpaid.  I’m talking to you, Nurses, Guards, our Army, our Civil Servants.

And yes, there have been brutal cuts to our pay.  This month my take-home pay is about 25% less than it was in September 2008.  In fact, my wife now works weekends, and we still have less money than we had in 2008.

But money is not the only issue that teachers are angry about, and pay is not the primary driver that led us to vote for industrial action.  Here’s some of the things that have upset us:

Class – Teacher Ratios
Ratios are a funny thing.  It’s possible to say you have one ratio, but the reality in classrooms can be very different from the official picture.  I wrote before about the numbers in my daughter’s classroom in Primary School.  Nowhere do official documents state that 34 is an acceptable number of students for one teacher, but that’s what happens when you start pushing up numbers.  In secondary schools numbers are creeping up as well.  This impacts on a student’s ability to learn, and puts more part-time teachers out of work.

Student Supports
Budget 2013, when it was announced, had a hidden gem for schools.  Guidance Counsellors were no longer ex-quota.  (Wha?)  That means that If a school wanted to keep a guidance counsellor working in their job, then the school had to lose a job somewhere else.  So, in a recession when students could really do with advice regarding careers and higher education, the government tries to strip that away.  Don’t forget the great work in pastoral counselling that these people do.  They help so, so many students out in quiet and important ways.

Learning Support
The numbers of people providing assistance to students has been cut.  These Special Needs Assistants, Learning Support Teachers, or Resource Teachers are incredibly important for students.  Imagine a student landing in Ireland from another EU country and unable to speak English.  He or She may get one or two class periods a week to help his or her English. Imagine a student with a recognised learning disability.  Imagine a student with a physical disability, with dyslexia, with ADHD, with ODD, with dyspraxia, with visual or auditory difficulties.  The resources for all these children have been cut.  And if you cut their resources then you cut their opportunities to do well in school, and you cut their future chances in life.

Curriculum Challenges
As has been well-publicised, the Junior Cert is being changed.  Unfortunately, many of the changes are not what was recommended by the teacher unions and the National Council for Curriculum Assessment.  In other words, the Minister ignored best advice.  Add that to the perception that teachers need to do more work on literacy, numeracy etc.  All of this is being foisted upon the profession in the expectation of better results with fewer resources.

Psychological Assessments
The National Educational Psychological Service is the official body that assesses students who may have a learning disability.  The budget of this body has been severely cut meaning that it is much harder to get resources for students who need help.

Capitation
Capitation is the grant that schools receive from the Department of Education and Skills to run the school.  Schools receive a grant for each student who is registered.  This grant then goes towards paying the heating, the light, the maintenance, the repairs.  The capitation grant has been reducing constantly for the past five years.

Job Security
We have a myth in this country that teaching is a secure job.  That, frankly, is rubbish.  I have friends who have been teaching for up to 15 years who still don’t have a full-time job.   Seriously.  This affects everything – up to and including their pension contributions.  As the teacher-pupil ratio changes those who retire are not being replaced.  Newly-qualified teachers would be incredibly lucky to get even a part-time job.

Professional Progression
Schools are complicated organisms.  In order to keep a student body of 300+ students working, involved and learning then lots of jobs need to be done.  You need year heads and class heads, you need State exams to be co-ordinated, you need matches to be played, you want the school play to run, you want the kids to more than just learn, you want them to develop.  Many of the tasks listed are undertaken by teachers given special posts (called Assistant Principal and B posts).  Traditionally these posts have earned some extra pay and a time allowance to carry out the duties attached.  These posts are being phased out.  Now a teacher hoping for professional development will need to be willing to do it on a voluntary, unpaid basis.  In addition to their full teaching duties.

Job Bridge
At the moment a number of Primary Schools are advertising for classroom assistants under the Job Bridge programme.  Essentially, they want to find an unemployed teacher (and there’s lots) and get that teacher to work for their dole plus about €50.  In this situation it’s a pure numbers game.  The teachers do not stand a chance of getting full employment as Job-bridge positions come with an expiry date.

I’ve gone on quite a bit there.  If you’ve read this far, then thank you.  As you may gather, I both reject the Haddington Road Agreement, and support Industrial Action.  And I’m glad that the majority of my union of 17,000 members has done the same.

18 Years

18 years ago today my mother died.

How do you write about something like that?  Do I write about the cancer that killed her, or how that Summer (weirdly) stands out in my memory as having the best weather ever?  Do I write about how the whole experience brought my relatives and friends closer than I had ever experienced or imagined was possible?  Or do I write about how her last words to me, two weeks before she died, were ‘Goodnight John, God Bless’.  As last words go, that’s something special to hang on to.

My outstanding memory of this September weekend in 1995 is the wake.  To those of you not from Ireland a wake is a gathering of people in the house of a person who has died, and it can go on for quite a while.

We knew for weeks that mam’s death was inevitable, and had planned for the wake.  The house was cleaned like never before.  If it was vertical and concrete, then it got painted, if it was green it got trimmed, if it was flat it got brushed and washed.

The white bed linen came out.  I never knew this, but many traditional households have special bed linen for waking.  A neighbour cut his barley, and the field was readied as a car park.

After she died, Mam was dressed in an outfit that Monica had got for her the previous Christmas.  A kind of peach colour that matched the roses growing outside her window.  Those roses were cut and laid out around her in the bed.

My brother Finbar’s bedroom was turned into a storehouse of various beverages.  Sandwiches and cakes began to arrive by the barrow-load.

From about ten-ish on Friday there was a steady stream of people arrived at the home to spend time with us.  Friends, relatives, neighbours all took their turn to visit, to pay respects to mam.  To go to her room and say a quiet prayer by her bedside.  My dad, my brothers and sister took turns to sit beside her.  It was all very informal, very touching, very important, very beautiful.  And it went on all Friday night.

In a wake plenty of people stay awake.  One or more of us stayed by mam all night long.  She had company for her most important journey.  Even 18 years later it touches me to remember just how good people were and still are.

Prayers would happen spontaneously around the bedside.  Rosaries were taken out, and people would let tears happen when they needed to.

There was a stream of people who would have a drink, a sandwich, a tea and cake, or step outside for a sociable smoke.  You might wonder if so much free drink would affect the tone of it all, but no.  Mam was a teetotaler.  People respected that as they do a wake.

There were some funny,  incongruous moments.  The man who came up to me who to break into some conversation spoke about how he dated mam before she met dad.  The fact that our water pump broke down on Saturday and we had no running water or flushing toilets in the house.  (cue our neighbour and emergency plumber Jim).  Finbar and myself heading to some trees to answer nature’s call, only to return to see one of my friends coming over to see if we were ok.  Close timing for her.

On Saturday Mam was removed to Killeagh Church.  We carried the coffin out the door of the house to see a couple of hundred people gathered under a blazing blue sky.  The men took turns to carry her coffin to the hearse.

On Sunday the men took turns again as we carried her coffin a few hundred meters to the graveyard that would be her final resting place.

Mam’s death is one of the defining moments of my life, and her wake is one of the most important memories that I have.  It’s a pity that wakes happen less and less in Ireland now.  I think that anyone who has experienced a wake will agree they are something to be treasured.

Mam.  18 years gone today.  We love you and miss you.

In Praise of Primary Teachers

Us parents – we love our children.  But looking after children for any length of time can be very, um, intensive.  One of my colleagues is liable to say (at the end of her working day) ‘I’m off now to my real job’.  And she’s right.  Looking after our children is our real job – it’s what we sacrifice so much other stuff for.

Step in the primary teacher.  We value our kids and we want the best for them.  We want them to learn in school, but we also want them to develop, eventually, into happy and successful adults (by which I mean they do well in whatever path they choose for themselves in life).  We trust our primary teachers with a lot.

My daughter, Andrea, is 6 and in first class now.  I’m in awe of what she has learnt in school in the past 2 years.  I mean that.  She can read, write, spell, she’s socialising, she’s learning new skills, she comes out of school smiling, and she’s at the age where you can see continual progress in her reading, her spelling and her numeracy.

Now for one child to learn like this is impressive.  But think of this – last year, Andrea shared her classroom with over 30 other students.  Think about that.  Think about being the only adult in the room with 30 children aged 5.  Think about getting them to learn anything.  Are you beginning to get a cold sweat yet?

Now make it all a bit more difficult for yourself.  Make 24 of those students belong to one class group (senior infants) and another 10 belong to a different class group (first class).  Each group has it’s own needs based on age and based on the educational requirements of a national curriculum.

These restrictions and class sizes are not imposed by the school but by a doctrine that rules Ireland at the moment.  ‘We’re spending too much -we must cut back, there’s fat in the public service’.  And there is no end in sight.  What the primary teachers achieve despite cutbacks in resources and larger class sizes is incredible.  Add to that the stress of the level of paycuts that they have had to endure.  Anything from 20% – 30 % has been taken off of them.  Pension entitlements are reduced, sick pay is slashed.

Yet despite all this, it is not just my daughter who leaves school with a smile on her face.  Most of the teachers smile.  They are in the job because they love their job, and they love the kids they share a classroom with for 5 days a week, for 9 months of the year.

Fair play to them.

On Church Vs. State (in primary schools anyway)

Or maybe that should read ‘On the Separation of Church and State’

In August I posted about how it is that my profession of a faith should upset others.  This post generated some interesting responses – as a response to the blog post, on my facebook feed, and on the twitter machine (@johnmhurley)

One idea that was prominent in the feedback is that the Catholic Church holds too much sway in our schools and in our public life.  Well, maybe I’ve phrased that wrong.  The argument is that the Church holds so much power in schools that those who do not share the same faith are discriminated against.  In addition to this, in the broader setting of our state, the Church is given a position of prominence whereby it may exert its agenda upon the secular institutions of the state.

As a starting point, lets look at the situation regarding education.

The vast majority of primary schools in Ireland are under the trusteeship of Catholic Bishops.  The property that the school lies on is usually the property of the local parish, and a priest of the parish is normally on the board of management for the school. Note that the teachers are paid for by the state, and schools receive  a capitation grant for each student.  This grant goes towards some of the running costs of the school.  Usually schools then fundraise locally to cover other expenses.

The picture for secondary schools is similar.  I was going to go into details on it but that isn’t necessary.  (but if you ask nicely I just might)

Many people object to the time given to religious instruction in Primary School.  The objections are especially strong when students are preparing for sacraments.  The objections are even more pertinent if one considers students in the classroom who may be of a different faith, or no faith at all.  In this case, are the wishes of parents being considered?  Is such a child excluded from class and educational opportunities when this goes on?

Imagine if preparation for sacraments was taken out of the primary school?  Imagine if only those who wanted to, who chose to, were the ones to take place in this preparation?

As it is, I feel that things are going in the wrong direction right now.  Each spring a debate pops up regarding the excesses around first communion in particular.  On Matt Cooper one day the owner of a Limo company explained how his company now had a policy not to take bookings for first communion.  Really?  Some parent thought that a Limo was appropriate?  Or did the Jonses get one first?

Imagine the pressure that this puts on families that are not so well off.  ‘What, you didn’t get a new Suit/xbox/laptop/bike/other (delete as inappropriate)?’

If the Church took the brave step and took instruction for the sacraments out of the school, there’d be uproar.  But could you see the positives?  Children of other faiths don’t get deprived of class time. Imagine the Sunday school setup?  It seems to work in America.

As the parent of a 6 year old girl who will receive her first communion in the not-too-distant future, I think that will not be a bad thing.  If she’s to receive her communion, then that means that she’s joining a community of faith – and maybe it’s appropriate as a parent I should be involved too.

I don’t know the exact picture of how something like this would work out, but maybe we need to start planning for it.  It would  be rough at the start, but I think that the journey would be worth it.

Country Living

I live in the middle of the countryside.  I grew up on a farm, and sometimes I like to see farming stuff happen.  

Anybody who spent the last three years in Ireland can’t have missed just how bad the weather was each Summer.  For that reason, this year’s fabulous weather was even more welcome than usual.

It has been a pleasure to see farmers being able to get in harvests and silage without the worry of their equipment sinking (yup, the fields were that wet last year!)

Here’s a few shots I took during some of the work this Summer

Why should my Faith upset you so much?

I have friends who have a very strong faith, I have friends who are atheist – they’re all my friends.

In my work I deal with all students, whether they profess a faith or not.  I don’t have a problem, and neither do they.

So, here’s my gripe.  I see more and more articles from some atheists that don’t push a pro-atheist agenda, as they push an anti-religion one.  Now, I’m not starting a debate on the merits or demerits of belief Vs atheism.  I believe, others don’t.  And I respect that deeply.

For example, on the Matt Cooper show (excellent, by the way) there was a guest on talking about his work in Humanist ceremonies.  In the course of his discourse, he referred to religious ‘claptrap’.  Why not talk about Humanist ceremonies in positive terms rather than denigrate religious ceremonies? He also referred to religious ceremonies marking points of life (Baptism, Marriage, Funerals) as having ‘hijacked’ these important points in peoples’ lives.  Again, why the need to denigrate? Why is it that some atheists seem to have such a missionary zeal about how they spread their word?

My faith is important to me.  It has helped me though some tough points in my life, and I’ll give an example of the most significant:

In 1995, my mother died from a brain tumor.  I only saw mam cry once in that time: the day she came home from hospital (she was only in for a week or so) she said “God John, it’s a very hard cross to bear”.  Shortly after, she rested and got on with what was left of her life as best as she could.

I believe that mam’s faith was a huge help to her in facing her illness. I believe a further grace was given to our family in July, I think, of that year.  My dad, my mam and my sister Monica went on a pilgrimage to Lourdes.  Obviously, there was no miracle cure of the cancer that killed her, but there was a cure of another sort.

Prior to their visit to Lourdes, the atmosphere in our house was all about fighting the disease, fighting the inevitable.  This could only lead to a sense of defeat.  Following the pilgrimage, the atmosphere in the house changed, and not in a subtle way.

Now the atmosphere became one of acceptance – a place where we worked to make sure that mam was comfortable, that her dignity was respected.  It became a house of welcome for many, many people who came to offer their support.

So much for one example.

Owen Jones wrote in the Independent about how Richard Dawkins doesn’t speak for all atheists, it’s worth a read (Not in our name: Dawkins dresses up bigotry as non-belief – he cannot be left to represent atheists).

But I digress.  I started writing about how some atheists push a particular anti-religion agenda.  Here’s the thing – why not respect each other’s positions on faith?  

Pope Francis (of whom I’m a fan) recently spoke to an atheist.  I can’t recall the exchange exactly, but when the man said “But I’m an atheist” the Pope replied, “Just do good, and let us meet in the middle

So, lets all try to do good, and meet in the middle.