Anyone who has ever stubbed their toe off of a sharp corner knows this simple truth:
There is a big difference between describing a stubbed toe, and the real experience of having stubbed a toe.
And so it is with grief.
If we (hopefully) live long enough, we will all have to deal with the awful reality of grief. The reality of knowing the loss of someone who we have loved, of someone who was an important part of our lives.
To date, I have had to face this reality on three occasions.
In June 1995 I was at home and my mam complained about pins and needles in her legs. She tried a few things – one of which was a hot bath to ease her muscles. Nothing worked, and when dad came home he took her straight to the doctor.
The doctor, to his credit, saw mam trying to get out of the car and told them to go straight to hospital. The initial diagnosis that Friday evening was of a stroke. However, on Monday evening a more thorough scan and diagnosis gave us the terrible news that mam had a brain tumour, inoperable. In the space of a few days we went from mam being healthy to her being told she was going to die.
The next months were a whirlwind, a blur. We chased every theory and quack in the vain hope of something that would hold back the tide, that would deny the inevitable, that would save her life.
Part of that journey was a pilgrimage to Lourdes.
Mam travelled to Lourdes in search of a cure, but that’s not what she received – she went there on a wheelchair, and came back on a stretcher. Instead there was a different type of cure.
You see, up until that point our house was focused on fighting the cancer – on pushing back. After Lourdes our house became a place to make mam comfortable, it became a place where we had accepted her ultimate diagnosis, and now aimed to preserve her dignity and her peace.
Lourdes did provide a type of cure – just not the type that we had anticipated.
On 15th September mam died. Hard to believe that that is now almost 30 years ago.
In the following years we, each of us, tried to deal with the grief in our own different ways. As is common with children who have lost a parent, we feared for dad.
I have a clear memory of one day being at a choral event in Cork and seeing a woman who had similar hair and dress style as mam. I was left breathless with the shock and reviving of her memory.
Weirdly, this is the natural way of things. If we are lucky, we get to bury our parents. There is something wrong with the world if it’s the other way around.
In 2018 it was the other way around.
On a cold February morning we got the terrible news that the body of my younger brother had been found – he had died of a heart attack.
Unlike mam’s death 23 years earlier, we had no warning, no time to prepare. Finbar was, it seemed, fit and healthy. He was only 46 and full of life.
I can honestly say that it was a full 2 years before I “got over” his death. In reality I never fully got over it, and thinking about the unfairness of such an early death will still make me angry and cry. Simply put – I still miss my brother, he was cool.
Grief is complex, deep, and varied. We use a lot of different theories and analogies to explain it, but the simple fact is that it hurts. A lot.
I regularly refer to the Kubler-Ross stages of Grief. It provides a framework that allows us to understand some of what we’re going through. (And yes, I know that some have questions around how accurate the stages are)
In 2023 my dad died at the age of 92. His death brought more of an existential aspect to grief. Both of my parents are now gone, along with my younger brother. This kind of thing really makes you think about your own morality.
Dad’s death and Finbar’s have affected me in totally different ways. While Finbar was in apparent full health, dad had suffered in his final years. In a way, I grieved the man I knew as my father as he faded in front of me.
When supporting someone who is grieving, perspective is important. Just because I have been through grief does not mean I truly get what another person is going through now. I’m describing a stubbed toe to someone who has just suffered from a stubbed toe.
Unlike a stubbed toe, however, grief takes a very long time to process. This is not something that can be rushed or forced. Our feelings are our feelings, no matter how inconvenient.
To contradict the poet – sometimes you do need to go gentle.
If you are dealing with grief talk to someone, and allow the myriad of emotions to happen. Sometimes it’s OK to not be OK.
A final note – this reading of Dylan Thomas’ “Do Not Go Gentle” is incredible. Take a moment for yourself, and do be gentle with yourself.
A few years ago I had a very definite routine to writing a blog. Once a week I’d sit down and just hit the keyboard. I used to look forward to the process of teasing out my own ideas, and had a target of 500 words each time I sat down.
I had a journal with a few pages of ideas and themes that I would explore, and had built up a reasonable audience for my ramblings, who kindly shared on (mostly) Facebook and Twitter.
And yet, in the past few years I have not written much at all. And why?
The chief reason, I think, is grief. My younger brother died from a sudden heart attack in 2018. I could never have expected the depth to which this has affected me.
Apart from grief, there was the incredibly mundane, yet grueling, task of dealing with his estate. For a period of 18 months I was dealing with emails and documents where every subject line included ‘Finbar Hurley, deceased’.
Each and every email was a bit of a kick in the gut, reminding me of our loss.
That and the failing health of my father sapped any will I had to write. And the longer I stayed away from writing, the harder I found it to return to what was an enjoyable activity.
And so, here I am. Trying to get back into a habit of writing over six years later.
The old adage is that you should write about what you know. Well, in the past 6 years I have come to know grief. I have come to know how differently it an affect you, and that it can be totally unpredictible.
My brother Finbar died suddenly. We had no warning, no time to prepare. I can honestly say that it was a full two years before I felt normal again.
While I know some of the theories of grief (5 stages, etc), reality is something totally different. A bit like describing a stubbed toe, compared to actually stubbing your toe.
And so, bit by bit, I fell out of a habit that actually gave me satisfaction. Amazing how that can happen.
And how to overcome writer’s block? Forget about perfectionism. Many writers have written about their process. How they just sit down to write, and worry about tidying up the narrative later.
So. Wish me luck. Time to get back on this particular track.
My dad died on 12th February 2023. He now follows my mother who died on 15th September 1995 and my younger brother Finbar, who died on 6th February 2018.
Good morning everyone, and thank you for being able to make it today to help us mark dad’s life, and pray for him as we bring him to his final resting place.
A number of people were unable to make it yesterday or today and have separately sent their condolences. On behalf of the family, I’d like to thank them for their kind messages.
A number of our cousins also couldn’t make it today. I’d ask you to also keep them in your thoughts and prayers.
I’d like to start by thanking a number of people:
Thanks to Marie Walsh & those at DISC hire for the lights we used yesterday for the parking at the house for everyone coming in.
I won’t chance names here, but thank you to all of those who came together last night for catering and setting up the house. You helped create an atmosphere that dad would have been proud of. It gave a real sense of a community coming together to help out.
The staff in Egan’s funeral home have been an incredible support for us. They have guided, advised, and tolerated changes with no fuss. Billy, Andy, thank you.
I’d like to thank those working at the County Council yard in Killeagh – at very little notice they came up and patched up the road. It helped those who had travelled to offer their support.
Dad was proud to be a member of the Inch Point to Points, and it was great that they were able to help out with traffic and directions yesterday.
I’d like to thank Rita Scannell and Anne Keniry for looking after the flowers.
I’d also like to thank Rita for recording this so that friends and family can join us online.
For the choir, all of those who sang, and also for John Casey, Catherine Keniry and Mary Daly for helping to organise and bring it all together.
I’d like to thank the staff of Glendonagh who have been very good to us and for looking after dad over the past year.
I’d like to thank Fr. Frank O’Neill who came up to Glendonagh on Sunday to say prayers with us and bless dad.
Fr. Eamonn Barry has been a good friend to our family for a number of years. He was very good to dad in the years after mam died.
I’d like to thank Fr. Tim for being there for us on so many occasions over the past number of years. He has been a great support, and continues to be so.
Thank you to all of those who visited dad over the past few years. He really enjoyed and appreciated those visits.
They say it takes a community to raise a child. Well over the past few days we have seen a community come together to help say farewell to one of its own.
How do you sum up a life that has spanned 92 years? I could try for a load of anecdotes about the things he said and did, but would need the bones of 92 years to get through it all. He lived such a full life.
To try to go over dad’s life is like taking a peek at just how much this country has changed in this lifetime.
Dad was born in 1930, into a small household with a small farm just up the road from here in Ballykilty. He sometimes talked about going to Youghal with his mother on the horse and cart, and how she would check her purse every so often to make sure she hadn’t lost her money. Things were tight.
He sometimes talked about seeing World War II barrage balloons out at sea protecting the convoys on their way to England.
He was 14 when the war ended, and only a short time later he moved to England to make a living. He spent his time on building sites over there, coming home with a feast of stories, and the start of a plan to buy his own farm.
For years dad worked as a labourer for others, building up his reputation and his finances until he was able to eventually move on to buy the home farm in Ballinalough. And it was there that he built the rest of his life.
Dad was a man who was willing to take chances, to work incredibly hard, and he was willing to glimpse a future and try new things.
At our brother Finbar’s funeral 5 years ago I was told how dad was one of the first people in County Cork to build slatted units for cattle. He had the ability to think outside of what was normally done, and to go for a big plan.
Dad was gifted. He knew machines, and he knew how to build and how to fix them. Once, we were cutting silage and something got caught in the blades of the mower, causing the gears in the tractor to get damaged. Dad, along with our cousin Matthew, took the rear of the tractor apart, found the damaged gears, replaced them, and rebuilt the tractor. 35 years later and I’d still be trying to fix that particular jigsaw.
There was another time when the one ton bags of fertiliser were coming onto the market. Dad went to Atkins in Midleton, I think it was, and had a long, slow, really good look at the mechanism for loading those bags into a fertiliser spreader.
And then he went off, bought the pieces, and made one for himself. I don’t think he ever heard of Patent Laws.
He was able to do so much, and was always willing to learn more, to try out more.
He loved farming so much. He just loved animals. He just wasn’t so good at remembering their names. Every dog we had as a family ended up being called ‘shep’, no matter what name the rest of us had given that dog.
Even though he officially retired at the age of 65, nothing of that sort actually happened. He was always checking in with Mark and Finbar on how they were doing. Walking the fields, checking mart prices, watching the farming programmes. Believe it or not, he still helped Mark draw silage at the age of 89. Think. 89 years old and still able to get into a tractor and draw a few loads of silage.
Dad loved sport. He was a proud member of the Inch point-to-points, and loved going up to the track to help out and to watch the races.
For years, decades, dad followed the point-to-points every winter. He only finally stopped when he physically found it too hard to be on the course in winter. But he never lost the love of horse racing. He’d constantly follow racing on the TV, and knew so much about trainers, breeders and jockeys.
He loved following those he knew, such as Richard Rohan. Any time Richie was racing dad would know, and be looking for that race on TV. Even better if the race was close to home and he could get someone to give him a lift.
He loved following how Seamus Rohan was doing with any horse he had. Seamus has a horse racing today, and no doubt, hopes that dad can put in a good word. To be fair, though, based on his track record, Seamus and the horse may need full on Divine Intervention rather than just a good word from dad.
Because of his love of horses, dad particularly enjoyed visiting Seamus, or as Thomas calls him, “The son that dad never had”
Dad regularly followed soccer, GAA and Rugby. He just enjoyed seeing teams out there, excelling in their various disciplines. Unusually enough, in following the premier league, he never had a favourite team, just followed the matches for the game itself. He sometimes timed his visits to others based on what sports they tended to watch, and whether there was a match or race on that day.
So, for all of the Shanahans and the O’Donoghues, some of those visits weren’t just for the chat. He loved to watch a good game while visiting. If there was a cup of tea going, so much the better.
At heart, dad was a family man. While mam was alive he simply worked the farm, came home, and spent time at home in the evenings. That was his week; that was his life.
It took years for mam to convince dad to have a holiday. He finally relented and brought 6 of us in a caravan to Killarney. Some years it was lovely, some years it rained non stop. But it was part of a routine, a treat and was something that mam and dad loved doing together.
When we were older mam and dad took holidays on their own to Killarney and up along the west coast, going from B&B to B&B. One year when they were gone I went looking at a van that dad had left parked at home.
Turns out he’d removed the spark plugs. Kind hearted he may be. Fool he was not.
It’s one of life’s cruel strokes that mam died aged 64, and dad lost the chance to spend a retirement with her.
However, Dad learned to deal with mam’s death, and over time learned to live a life full of friendship and care of others.
Dad was a person who cared deeply for others. His generosity was born out of instinct and “the right thing to do”.
Things like you didn’t miss a funeral, you visited the sick, you visited those in a nursing home. And, you’ll like this one Tim, you paid the priest for the petrol money or the dues at Easter and Christmas.
Years ago, before Thomas the elder was born, dad and mam fostered Martin Rohan for about 6 months.
It was years later before we knew. I suppose that’s because dad didn’t boast or make a fuss.
Martin reckons that this was why he always felt he had a special connection with mam, and why he was always able to get away with things that nobody else could in our house! Martin and the late John Coleman were in a special category there.
Dad tried to avoid being judgemental. For example, if he heard of a relationship breaking down, his only comment would be ‘isn’t that sad’, and show concern for those affected. He was simply a thoroughly decent and a good person.
A word that has been used a lot over the past few days is ‘Gentleman’. Dad showed respect for those around him. He was always polite, and enjoyed spending time with people. He took the time to know others, and took the time to sit with them and to talk. And he could hold a conversation with virtually anyone.
He had a great way with people. I don’t think he ever saw it himself – it’s just the way he was. He was really shy about some things.
At his 25th wedding anniversary in the Walter Raleigh, I can clearly remember Johnnie and Mattie, his brothers, having to persuade dad to give some bit of a speech. “Tommy, you have to say something, it’s like a groom at a wedding”
He had a great sense of humour. Not so much in the sense of telling jokes, but in the sense of finding humour in the world around us.
He once invited a woman working for the Ordinance Survey into dinner. She was surveying the sheds and buildings on the farm for the latest maps.
As we were eating she got the usual style interrogation. When dad found out she was married, but had no visible ring, she said, “I only wear the ring when I’m going out”
To which he quickly replied
“Shur that’s exactly when you shouldn’t be wearing it!”
You can only imagine the glare he got from mam.
In later years the love that dad had for his siblings and in-laws was so powerful to see. He had such a special place in his heart for Agnes O’Donoghue, Nora Buckett, Josie Hurley and Joan Hurley. He loved visiting them, and loved their visits. He always took the opportunity to visit Mick Shanahan and the late Ted whenever possible.
Dad loved his grandchildren, and you would see his face light up anytime he was with them. Lena, Andrea, Daniella, Hannah, Thomas and Molly. He would be so proud of you for helping out today, and he loved you all so much.
Dad lived a full, productive and a happy life. Never far from those who he loved. He started with virtually nothing, and has created a legacy that we can look up to. He worked hard, respected those around him, and by instinct showed kindness and generosity at every turn.
I think we could all learn a bit from him.
As we leave here today, we will bring Dad to St. Fergal’s cemetery and we’ll lay him to rest beside Mam and Finbar.
Following that, on behalf of all the family, I’d like to invite you to the Thatch for some food afterwards.
I’ll finish by reciting the prayer of Cardinal Newman
Over the past few years many of us have worked under the assumption that our Social Media platforms would continue without too much disruption.
This was in spite of the fact that we often did not agree with the direction of the leaders or the owners of the companies which we used.
Or. Should I say, the companies that used us? The old phrase is “If you are not paying for it, you’re not the customer; you’re the product being sold“
We have been happy to present our lives to the world using a platform that mined our information and then sold that same information to allow for targeted advertising. The volume of data that was mined is simply mind-boggling.
In 2011 Max Schrems wrote to Facebook to request a copy of the data they had on him. Keep in mind that he had deleted his account the previous year.
All of the ‘free’ social media companies are precisely that – companies. Their purpose is to make money, their product is the information that we freely give them.
Enter into the fray one Mr. Elon Musk.
Musk has been an interesting character for years. His antics at Tesla and SpaceX have gathered a huge fan-base.
However, his actions and decisions around the purchase, non-purchase, and actual purchase of Twitter have proven to be disastrous to the company.
There are plenty of software engineers who warn that the cracks are already showing, and that Twitter could collapse very, very soon.
Hence the Great Social Media Migration.
Mastodon has become the home-of-choice for tens of thousands of Twitter users, despite many having misgivings regarding a different level of complexity. But Mastodon isn’t the only alternative out there.
The interesting thing for me has been the whole concept of the Fediverse.
There is no ‘owner’ of any given platform
Platforms can be hosted over a number of servers
Servers can interact with each other (Federate)
Servers can block other servers that don’t maintain the same rules or code
So I’m moving from Twitter. Starting on a journey in the Fediverse. Exploring Mastodon and Pixelfed. I like the idea that my data is mine to share, I like the fact that there are no ads.
If you decide to jump onboard, go for it. The tone on the mastodon.ie server is very positive. But if you do join, don’t be the product. Subscribe, or throw a few euro towards the project. I think we all benefit in the end.
Good afternoon my dear teachers, my colleagues. I know that you were unable to invite me today, and that’s such a pity, because I have such good news to share with you.
I know this is a one way video, and also that my twitter machine only seems to work one-way, but I can just imagine all of your smiling faces looking up at me as we have such fun at conference.
Well, it is lovely to be back at conference, and there are a few messages that I’m sure you’ll be delighted to hear.
We at the Ministry care about education. We encourage innovation and change. Sometimes, we like change for change’s sake, so long as it doesn’t cost us too much. Sometimes, we need to prune. Especially if you’re up to something too expensive for our tastes.
First, Schools Are Safe™. I know that this is true because Micheál has told me. That nasty virus does not affect our Wonderful Children so you know that you can be safe when you’re in school.
We have done everything in our power, that we’re bothered to do. We’ve told you to open the windows and have given you permission to turn on the heating for more than five minutes a day. We’ve told you just what kind of mask we’d recommend that you buy from your own money.
Oh, I have heard rumours that some of you think that smaller class sizes would help. This is not true, and if I hear any of you repeating it, then you will have detention – and will be expecting you to write out “I Must Not Tell Lies” until you get the message.
So really, listen to all I’ve said and then just do what I say, not what I do in that lovely Convention Centre. Soo much space.
Second, You Will Get Your Vaccine Again, this will happen when we’re good and ready, or have our stuff together, or when we can be bothered, whichever is later.
Now, I can almost hear the trouble-makers say that the government has changed the vaccination schedule. Piffle, I say. The vaccination schedule is as it always has been. There have been no changes, and if you thought it was going to be May, or June, then you surely realise that we actually meant August or September (or possibly later)
I honestly don’t know what the fuss is because, as we all know, Schools Are Safe™
Now, I have Exciting News! Our latest ICT grants have come out, and you’ll be delighted to know that we have allocated lots of money to ICT. Now, it may look like we have cut it by about half, but look at my smile, and listen as I tell you how much you did get! It’s wonderful!
Extra good news because we have been able to secure magical machines that won’t need replacing in a few years, so in the year 2035, you’ll be able to (expected to, even) keep working with the machines we’ll let you buy in September.
Now, you may not be able to get them all in one go, but you could always bake up an industrial quantity of rice crispy buns and sell them to each other!
Apparently, there have been some ruptions about support for children who have , hem, hem extra needs. Apparently Josepha got in trouble for using the word ‘normal’ so I’d better tread carefully.
Anyhoo.
As I said, I am firmly in the corner of these children.
I will stand by their needs and be fully aware of their needs. However, that doesn’t mean that I’m actually going to DO anything. Changing the way that things are done is not why I got in to politics. But, I cannot stress enough that I’m for those children. I’ll use lots of words to say so, (but just don’t go expecting anything like extra funding, more SNAs, allocations for next year and the like)
So that’s it from me for now! Remember, the Ministry supports you, and if you have an issue please see me for detention once we’re back in school. I’ll ask you to keep your distance from me. Oh, and do bring a quill.
Political ill-will towards teachers and our unions
Poor relationship between the Department of Education and stakeholders in general
There are, of course, many more issues that would raise the blood pressure of the very many of us who care about how education happens in this country.
A key issue – a measurable issue, is the financial value that the State puts on the Education Sector. On this measure alone, we can see that the Government, the Minister, and thus, the Department, severely undervalue education.
The World Bank shows that, of the OECD countries, Ireland spent 3.5% on education in 2017. The same year Norway spent 7.9%, while Sweden spent 7.6%. The OECD average that year being 5%. (Source here)
The evidence of this lack of funding is everywhere. We have numerous schools where classes are in permanent prefabs; we have chronic underfunding of initiatives; we have higher class sizes than most other European Countries. The chart below from the C.S.O shows that, in 2016, there were 22 European countries with smaller class sizes than us at Primary level. At Upper Secondary level that number rises to 30.
Yes.
30 countries in Europe have smaller classes at second level than us. (CSO Data page here)
This is all happening in the context of rising numbers of students each year. Our schools are bursting at the seams, and any chance of expanding buildings or opening new schools are tied up in labyrinthine paperwork and applications.
And yet despite all of this chronic underfunding, our students still manage to do well on standardised tests. (Not a fair metric, but they do have the advantage of being measurable)
To be clear, this success at tests has happened despite the chronic underfunding. In Ireland teachers have regularly filled the gaps and put in that extra effort to help their students. What the chart above does not reflect is the level of pastoral care provided in our schools. The time spent in relationship building, the voluntary out-of-school activities that take place, the school shows, the matches, the tours.
A friend of mine now teaches in Ireland after a number of years teaching in the UK. One of his earlier impressions was just how little funding there is in schools. We are all familiar with the Windows 7 machines being held together with good will and wishful thinking. This is not sustainable.
As the population grows we need to look at how to fund education properly. There are a few aspects that need to be fixed:
The abhorrent two-tier pay system whereby anyone employed after 2011 is automatically on an inferior pay-scale
The cuts to capitation that have never returned to pre-recession levels
With regard to the last point, yesterday’s announcement by the minister for a further investment of €200 million for ICT between now and 2027 is ambiguous. Is that ‘further investment’ simply picking up where the last round of funding ended. In which case the €200 million will work out as an annual reduction on ICT spend.
Unfortunately, despite my wishful thinking, I believe that the current government has no intention of fixing any of these issues as they do not want to put any more money into our schools.
So yes. We have had a rough few years, but they are likely to continue for a while yet.
Today the big news is that of the ASTI withdrawing from talks about the Leaving Certificate 2021.
“Why would a Teaching Union withdraw from such important talks?” I hear you ask.
The line from the ASTI is that the primary option being discussed was that of Calculated Grades. (or “Predicted Grades” as we called them until we were told not to)
The simple fact is that Calculated grades are unfeasible for the class of 2021. There are a number of reasons for this:
This cohort of students will have missed approximately 25% of their school time since last year
They have not sat full-scale formal exams since Christmas 2019. It’s now 2021. Yes, you could say they had this year’s Christmas exams, but they were managed in an unusual way, and the implementation varied greatly from school to school. They will have had no 5th year Summer exam (Yes, some did, and this is important. Not everybody had the same access to online exams due to their own disadvantage)
There is no parity of access to education during the pandemic. Students who are at home largely rely on their families resources to do well. Think of trying to work on a phone versus a laptop; having fibre broadband or patchy mobile coverage; Rural Vs Urban access to the internet. Having your own room where you can work versus a busy family in a small house
The class of 2020 had a profile behind them. Whilst their education was severely disrupted with the lockdown in March, they had a reservoir of grades and progress from which to predict/calculate a grade for each student.
The class of 2021 does not have this same resource. For that reason Calculated/Predicted grades would be an unfair burden to place upon them.
There is a secondary issue I have with calculated grades.
Last year the Department issued circular 0037/2020 which laid out the process of calculated grades.
As the Summer progressed, a number of the procedures in this circular were ignored or bypassed.
For example:
on page 33 of the procedures teachers are instructed NOT TO RETAIN parts A or B. This was later changed
We were told that the ranking order would not be released to the public. This was changed as reported here.
The whole process was fraught.
Students were concerned that their work would not be effectively recognised
There were numerous concerns regarding grade inflation
There were concerns as to what this meant for college applications and college places
There was no real appeals process. A student could only appeal the process, not the result.
By the time the grades were released the department had still not finalised plans for written exams – the students who had lost out would lose a year of college.
And this is the system that was being proposed today is not what was implied in this statement from the department.
bilateral discussions with Department officials to progress work on two distinct processes for Leaving Certificate 2021: planning for examinations and scoping out a corresponding measure, different to examinations that can also be offered to students.
The clear emphasis was on planning for examinations, with the ‘corresponding measure’ in second place.
Enough time has been lost, and the minister has failed our Leaving Certs. It’s time she and her department started taking this seriously and put real plans in place for our Leaving Certs.
After months of speculation we had an email from the Minister on Friday revealing the plans for the Leaving Certificate of 2021.
Well. No. We didn’t. What we had was an email that was somewhat high on ambition but was ‘yet to meet expectations’. Sigh.
Unfortunately, I’m in danger of giving out too much. I would like to try to be constructive, so…
What could the Leaving Certificate Certificate, 2021 look like?
First up, what are the limiting factors?
Top of the list has to be the most up-to-date health advice. Based on the advice for running schools, one scenario is that exams will be limited to two hours.
Curriculum gaps. This year’s cohort of students have lost a huge amount of time of their class contact. In 2020 they were out of school from mid-March until the Summer. They have now been out for 4 weeks. The most deliriously optimistic guess would have us back on 22nd February. It could, however be St. Patrick’s day or even after Easter before this year’s Leaving Certs will be back in a classroom.
These students will have missed out on 16 – 19 weeks of in-house tuition. With the school year being 33 weeks, that’s approximately 25% of tuition gone. (That’s not even taking into account the fact that the last few weeks are for revision.)
Yes, you say, we have been working hard with distance learning. And yes, I agree. However, not all students are able to engage with online learning. There may be factors such as access, mental health, etc, that prevent the student from engaging with digital platforms. In the interests of fairness, this needs to be recognised. Students cannot be put at a disadvantage if they cannot access the curriculum.
Curriculum Balance. There is no real template telling teachers how to teach their subjects, and in what order the syllabus must be covered. Some practical subjects may have projects finished by now, planning to cover theory using online learning if this situation were to materialise. Other may have focused on theory earlier, following the traditional way of working on the practical afterwards.
In short, it’s impossible to shorten the curriculum at this point, as this will disadvantage one cohort of students.
And a possible solution?
Choice. Choice will have to be a foundation characteristic of how to address the various issues.
As a general structure, take most papers and make them of a two hour duration
The paper will need to cover the range of the full syllabus, as students may have covered any area of it in their school time.
But, with the general structure known, students can be directed by their teachers to focus on the areas that they have covered in class. Maybe shorten some of the questions so that the maximum spent on some of these areas will be 30 minutes (2 hour paper, remember?)
In the cases there there is an external component there will need to be a balancing act
Has the school completed this component?
If yes, how do you account for those marks
If not, how do you avoid disadvantaging those students
One potential answer here would be to add a page to the exam paper. If the student fills out that he/she is being graded with the external component, then their time in the exam is cut slightly shorter, and they answer one question less.
This would be one really impressive balancing act to pull off, but it would be a good way to allow fairness for students.
Now, I’d never consider myself an expert in curriculum planning, but we need a starting point for any solution. Take ideas, trash them out, and trash them if needs be.
Our Leaving Cert students are hurting. Many of them are extremely anxious with the continual wave of leaks and kites that bounce different theories and scenarios around.
I sincerely hope that the Minister, the Department and the SEC can get around a table with our representatives, the Unions, and figure out a solution that will be fair to our Leaving Certs.
I know that you’re busy, what with being a minister and all, so I’ll forgive you for not writing back.
But I needed to write back to you, Norma, because truthfully, I’m worried, concerned, angry.
You see, Norma, you are wedded to the idea that schools are safe. And that is diametrically opposed to what the vast majority of teachers believe.
In support of your argument you, and your agents, have referred to ideas such as;
Children don’t spread virus
Schools are safe™
Teachers are mostly young and therefore not as vulnerable to the virus
This last point in support of keeping teachers further down the priority list for vaccination.
Children Don’t Spread Virus
Anybody who has ever spent time in school would laugh at the idea of children not spreading a virus. I would love to tell children this. The idea that just wistfully getting a virus to stop spreading amongst children is wonderful. Think of the treatment regimes for Norovirus, the Common Cold, HEAD LICE!
In case you’re not aware, Covid 19 is spread by airborne transmission. But, Don’t take my word from it. The W.H.O outlines the transmission mechanisms here
Children do get ill with Corona. And thankfully many of them do not present with serious complications, but enough do for them to be tested, and this data from Gov.ie clearly indicates that Covid is rampant across younger age groups – 63% are under 45. No magic wishful thinking will prevent children from getting it.
Source – Gov.ie
Schools Are Safe! ™
One of the greatest pieces of propaganda from your department has been the line that “Schools Are Safe™”
And yes, this may have been the case in September to December when the maximum number of cases was 1,284 on 18th October.
However, we are in a radically different position now. Community transmission is rife, and our 7 day average is 3,601. Did I mention that we have stopped testing close contacts because our system is already overwhelmed?
Did I mention that we have no real capacity left in our hospitals, that there are currently over 2,000 people in hospital with Covid, and 200 in ICU?
Did I mention that YOU, Minister, have cut the PPE budget for schools, and that those 6,400 health care workers were wearing correct PPE, and were presumably trained in its correct usage?
So no. Forgive me if I disagree with your assertion that schools are safe. In fact it is you who should ask for forgiveness for such a brazen lie.
Teachers Are Mostly Young and Not as much At Risk
Finally, Norma. Teachers are mostly young?
When did you last step into a staff room?
As with any profession, teaching has a range of age groups. To blithely state that they are mostly young is a nonsense.
To then go on to assert that those teachers are not as much at risk? That is sheer recklessness. Going on this chart, Ireland has had 174,843 Covid cases diagnosed so far. Of those, tragically, 2,616 have died. That’s a mortality rate of 1.5%
So, for every 1,000 cases we can expect 15 people to die. Think again of our 7 day average of 3,601. That’s about 54 deaths a day.
So, Norma. You are happy to put teachers into over-crowded, poorly-ventilated classrooms for 6 hours a day, with a 40% cut in PPE, and then claim that ‘Schools Are Safe’?
No. That is not acceptable. As the Minister you have a responsibility around the Health & Welfare of teachers and students. You are failing in that responsibility. You are happy to put us in harm’s way, with a cut in PPE grants.
At what point do you accept that this course of action is wrong? What will it take for you to recognise that this isn’t safe?
I don’t believe that we’ve had the pleasure of meeting. But rather than wasting time with the (inevitably) one way introductions, I’d like to bring a few matters to your attention.
People are scared
In the past few days the pandemic has escalated on a scale beyond anyone’s worst fears.
January 1st – 1,574
January 2nd – 3,394
January 3rd – 4,962
January 4th – 6,110
January 5th – 5,325
January 6th – 7,836
January so far? 29,201
The mortality rate for Covid 19 is approximately 1.9%. That’s based on 121,154 cases in Ireland with 2,299 people dead. (Info from Worldometers.com)
So based on that, of the 29,201 who have contracted Covid in the past 6 days, approximately 550 people will die.
It is in the face of this explosion of numbers that you keep insisting that schools are safe. That may have been the case when the national situation was of the order of 100 cases a day. We are now in a radically different situation. You have not recognised or accepted that fact. It is, however, a reality that is very stark for thousands of teachers and students across our country.
I know that you’ve worked as a teacher, but you may have forgotten the realities of classroom life.
Many of our schools are old and poorly insulated/ventilated/heated
Our class sizes are among the largest in Europe (ours is 25, average in Europe is 20 – Irish Examiner)
Wasted Opportunities
We are just a few days away from the 10 month point when Leo stood at a podium in the U.S, and announced the first lockdown.
One would have hoped that in the intervening period you, and your colleagues, would have taken the opportunities to plan for the worst.
Instead you decided to hope for the best. Government policy over the past few months seems to have involved a large degree of optimism that some form of Irish Exceptionalism would keep the virus at bay.
In the intervening period you and your colleagues
Allowed travel to continue into Ireland
Removed Summer lockdown restrictions faster than had been recommended by NEPHET
Ignored NEPHET advice at the start of December
Failed to implement a comprehensive Contact Tracing System so that in the Autumn those diagnosed positive had to inform their own close contacts
Failed to plan for an inevitable increase in cases. Specifically – there was no plan ‘B’ when it came to reopening schools, let alone a plan ‘C’.
Cut the PPE grant for schools by 40%.
Where does all this lead us?
We are now in a crisis that is the result of a Virus but is compounded by political ineptitude.
You, minister, and your colleagues have failed us. You have failed teachers, you have failed students, you have failed families.
When it became apparent that the national situation was rapidly deteriorating, you were absent.
The ‘Plan’
Even with the situation deteriorating rapidly, and with the CMO warning of the worst to come, it took days for the Cabinet to meet and decide what to do.
You ask students to return to school for 3 days a week but have not given any reassurance that this is approved by NEPHET. There has been no plan for child-minding for teachers of young children, there has been no plan or strategy for managing distance learning. There has been precious little investment in ICT.
