Michael Gove removes To Kill a Mockingbird and other classics from the GCSE syllabus.

I read today that Michael Gove has decided to cut such classics as To Kill a Mockingbird, Of Mice and Men and The Crucible from the GCSE syllabus from next year. According to the exam board OCR the works have been removed because the Department of Education wishes the exams to be more "based on tradition". By this they mean that students will now study at least one Shakespeare play, the Romantic poets, a 19th century novel from anywhere (US, European,British), a selection of post 1850 poetry and a British 20th century novel or drama. According to Paul Dodd, the OCR's head of GCSE and A Level reform another reason was because Michael Gove, who studied English at Oxford, had "a particular dislike of Of Mice and Men".

I am sitting here at my laptop somewhat lost for words ... I understand that change is inevitable and necessary. The education system has to change and move with the times, but the changes being made here seem, at the least, short sighted. To remove such inspiring classics such as To Kill a Mockingbird and Of Mice and Men and replace them with a narrower choice of work just seems ... wrong.

I remember reading To Kill a Mockingbird when I studied for my O Levels and I have re-read it several times. It inspired me. I have always enjoyed reading and devour books at a rate of knots. My degree was, for the most part, English Literature, and we covered a broad range of work - from the 19th century novel to Aphra Behn,from Shakespeare to Children's Literature. By the time I started my degree I had followed a path that led me from Black Beauty to The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, from Treasure Island to The Count of Monte Cristo and from To Kill a Mockingbird to Our Mutual Friend.

I was fortunate that our house was full of books and I had access to them all. For many students their first brush with classic literature is through their GCSE. Therefore GCSE English Literature needs to be inspiring, moving, exciting. It is the gateway to the world of literature for many.

Bethan Marshall, chair of The National Association for the Teaching of English and a Senior Lecturer in English at Kings College, London, has said that the new curriculum is far from inspiring. She, in fact, goes as far as to say that the choice of work will "grind children down". Rather than being forward thinking, imaginative and modern the syllabus ( rumoured to have been designed by Gove himself) is like something "out of the 40's" according to Marshall.

If you are studying a course that "grinds you down" how can you be inspired? And how many will continue on to A Level and Degree English Literature if they are uninspired by their GCSE? Gove wants students to study Shakespeare, Austen, Dickens, Keats and, of course, I would say that yes these works should be studied, but the GCSE needs to be tailored to suit and to inspire today's 16 year olds. It is a gateway to literature and if they are crushed by a dry diet of heavy duty classics will they want to carry on to A Level?

There needs to be a balance of work that appeals to the students. The new curriculum is heavily biased towards British writers and because of the focus on "tradition" there is little scope for inclusion of more modern work such as those of Harper Lee, Steinbeck or, indeed, Arthur Miller's The Crucible.

The thing that shocks me the most about all of this is the fact that one man, Michael Gove the Education Secretary, can have so much power. His "particular dislike" of Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men means that he can arrange for its removal from the syllabus. His desire for "tradition" means that GCSE students are given a syllabus "from the 40's" which will "grind them down". His desire for "tradition" means that there will be no course work, but instead two exams at the end of the two year period.

There is a place for tradition. I love tradition. But there is also a place for understanding that GCSE should inspire students to further study. Literature does not rest solely at the feet of Dickens and Shakespeare. The US classics are equally as important and in many ways are far more accessible to teenagers. When faced with Our Mutual Friend or To Kill a Mockingbird which one is going to inspire a teenager to study and enjoy literature? Of course both are incredible books, but Harper Lee's classic is, in my opinion, the one that will touch a nerve, light the flame of love for literature. And when that flame is lit there will be no stopping a student.

I fear that Gove's obsession with an age gone by, an old fashioned ideal of education where children sit in rows of desks chanting " amo, amas, amat" and learning Shelley by rote, is an obsession that is both dangerous and wrong. It is an obsession that will result in fewer students being inspired by a love of literature and more and more turning away from something they consider dull and dry.

I still cannot help the tears springing to my eyes when I recall excerpts from To Kill a Mockingbird and it planted the seed in me that I should always do the right thing. The right thing is to fight this decision and to fight Michael Gove's narrow minded destruction of our education system.


Update:
Since writing this I feel the need to clarify. Michael Gove's new syllabus, in my opinion, narrows the choice of books eligible for study. It seems a shame that there are no fresh voices. The only chance for any literature from overseas is if it is a 19th century novel. Anything more modern has to be British. I don't understand why To Kill a Mockingbird and Of Mice and Men are to be removed and yet not replaced by books which cover themes which will appeal to teenagers, themes which are immediately relevant in today's world. It will be interesting to see the choice of 20th century work chosen for the syllabus. I am not against change at all and I agree with one commenter that a rotation of work would be a good idea so we don't get bogged down with the same books for 30 years. I think that Gove's syllabus seems to be based very much on works that are pre 20th century, very traditionalist and I wonder if there should not be more scope for the study of more modern work. We shall see.

Waiting 3 weeks for a doctor's appointment ... come on NHS , get a grip!

Having booked a doctor's appointment for my father-in-law I found myself having to cancel it today. The next available appointment was not for over 3 weeks. In the UK we are hugely fortunate to have the National Health Service which gives us free health care, but the practicalities of the scheme are appallingly old fashioned and not fitting of life in the 21st century.

In our surgery it is possible to have a walk-in appointment, Monday to Friday. This means you can turn up at 8am and, on a first come first serve basis, you will see a doctor at some point that morning. This, however, is restricted as each doctor will only see 6 patients before moving onto their normal morning list. They also run a walk-in service for patients with really urgent needs ( not accidents or the like, but cases that can't wait overnight) from 4pm until 5pm. This is a great service, but if you are not an urgent case then things start to go wrong.

Their normal bookable appointments are from 10am to 11.30am and then 2pm to 3.30pm on week days.That is it.

For most of us these days full time work, or at least part time is a necessity. There are times when we need to see a doctor, but taking time off work is a real no no. Doctor's opening hours are so old fashioned in this respect and even if the surgery itself is open the appointment times are very narrow.

Our doctor's surgery is open from 8am until 6.30pm Monday to Friday. They do not open at the weekend. So if you work in London, leaving home at 7am perhaps and getting home at 6.30, seeing a doctor is impossible without taking time off.

Even if you work locally and can get to the doctor within their opening hours you will have a wait of anything from 2 to 3 weeks or more.

I have looked at about 20 websites of doctor's surgeries across the UK and they all run to similar hours - that is from 8am to 6.30pm. I have found one surgery where they run a walk in system and are open from 8am until 8pm 365 days a year.


For goodness sake!! Surely doctors should be open when people can actually come to them, and for longer hours. Appointments should be available from  7am and go on until 9pm. I'm not saying that doctors should be huddled in their surgeries for 14 hours a day, but haven't they heard of shift work? If their appointments windows were longer they could fit in more patients and so there wouldn't be such a wait for appointments.

They should be open at weekends - at least on Saturdays if they can't manage Sundays.

My own father was a doctor and even when I worked for him 25 years ago the surgery was open until 7pm. He used to do regular home visits and was on call for his patients overnight on a rota system. There was none of this farming care out to medical centres. And believe me - he really didn't struggle with overwork.

It seems to me that the system is so old fashioned, so weighed down with "the way things are" that they can't see out of the box and realise that life has changed. We, the public, need appointments outside of our work hours. To make my 86 year old father-in-law wait over 3 weeks for a 5 minute appointment is wrong. And its just because they want to work normal hours themselves. Well, people don't work "normal hours" any more. People work shifts and overtime and long hours.

If you need to see a doctor you need to see them within a week and you need to be able to see them without taking time off work. When you do finally see the doctor they are fantastic most of the time, but only working such limited surgery hours is ridiculous.

I know doctor's lives are not easy, but they get paid a lot of money and if they organised themselves they could provide a decent service that was accessible to all.

Put your dirty stuff IN THE DISHWASHER dammit!!

This is a news flash for all teenage children and possibly some men:

The door of the dishwasher can be opened by people other than your mother/partner ... as can the lid of the laundry basket!!!!

Call me old fashioned, but coming downstairs to discover the dishwasher half full of dirty dishes, with the work top above covered in all your dirty breakfast things, drives me ...

NUTS

Is it a genetic thing? I think that most women I know use a piece of crockery/cutlery/glassware and either wash it up or put it in the dishwasher. If the dishwasher needs emptying they empty it and then put the dirty plate in.

We do not check in the washer, see its clean and dump the dirty stuff above in the hope that mum/wife/grandma/ANYONE ELSE will do the work.

Also ... when you have clothes that are dirty? Put them in the bloody laundry basket. Don't throw them in the general direction of it. The lid of this useful piece of furniture also lifts off quite easily. Amazingly all the stuff gets washed for you, dried, folded and put in your room to be put away. The least you could do is actually put the dirty laundry IN the basket.

What it comes down to is laziness and the expectation that the mug typing this blog will end up doing it all. Well, hear ye, hear ye ( enough of the big font already) I am sick of it. I am sick of picking up after you and having to ask you to help me. I would like you to do these simple things off your own back, of your own accord. I am sick of cooking, cleaning, washing and picking up after you. Its not that I think I shouldn't do any of those things ... I just want you to help too. I hate the fact that you take my work for granted.

So respect me. Get off your backside and think of someone other than yourself. Notice that things need doing. Notice that there is room for your dirty clothes in the laundry basket, not leave them strewn around it.

Rant over.

Jaw clamped, shoulders tense ... prepare for a little bit of a rant.

At this very moment my jaw and teeth are aching. The reason for this is because I am so tense that my jaw is permanently clamped shut unless I make a conscious effort to stop it. I keep getting headaches because of both my jaw and my shoulders which are tight and nestled up around my ears most of the time.

And why do I feel this way? Well, I can't go into huge detail on here, but there is a person on the outskirts of my life right now who is making me feel totally stressed out. I am trying very hard to just not care. I am trying very hard not to moan at anyone and to make light of the situation if anyone asks me, but I think that the fact I am doing this is contributing to my tension.

I am a really friendly, chatty person and its like someone... well, this person, has dumped concrete over me. Unless I speak to them they make no attempt to speak to me. I offer to to help with things, they refuse my help. I am kept at arms length at all times and let me tell you - this person's arms are about a mile long.

At first I was upset at being ostracised. Now I am just angry. There is no escape right now. We have to be involved in each others lives for a while because that's the way life goes, but its hard to be treated this way. I have talked to this person in an attempt to improve life in a practical way, but when it comes down to personality clashes - what can you do?

I would imagine that I am not the only one to be affected by this person in this way and I know for a fact that a person I know very well was totally miserable because of the same person.

I know that you may advise me to walk away, have it out with them ... but those options are not possible. I know I am being cryptic here, but take it from me. The options above would just make my life worse right now. I am doing my best to spend as little time as possible with this person and to try to be calm and unaffected. It would appear, however, that my attempts are failing. The best way to describe being in this person's presence is to compare them with a dementor - sucking my joy from my soul ...

Dramatic, I know. In the great scheme of things this problem is not that important. My life away from the dementor is good, happy, wonderful. I just have to get on with it and leave my complaining to the ether of my blog. What a wonderful thing blogs are for venting our pent up and unsayable feelings!! So I shall continue to try and unclamp my jaw, try to relax my shoulders, try to keep my tongue still and not tell this person exactly what I think of them. Bullies come in all shapes and forms and some are perhaps so miserable themselves that they don't realise the affect they are having on others. I will not be beaten and I will not stop being a caring, happy person. So there.

Unsettled and Avatar in 3D equals English melt down...

I am unsettled.I don't really know why, but I am unsettled to the core.There is just a grumpiness about me that is fuelled, perhaps by excess of hormones, perhaps by boredom, perhaps by the fact that my son will not practise for his upcoming trumpet exam ... It was only a short time ago that I smugly wrote that life was good and that I had no worries. Well, typically, having put smug pen to paper ( can pens be smug? well, mine is) the world has gone pear shaped.

As previously noted my OU course is proving difficult and I feel stupid and useless. Thank you to those of you ( Gail and Urban Cynic ) who have so kindly supported me on this.My exercise routine has gone out of the window ( other than an hour of footie each week) and I just feel generally as if a dark cloud is hanging over me.

I had a complete melt down at the cinema last night... well, when I say complete melt down I mean a very English composed but inwardly raging melt down.Having paid a bloody fortune for tickets to see Avatar in 3D we arrived late ( don't even ask me to explain why... ) and were told that we could pick up our 3D glasses from any till. It turns out that we could pick them up from any till only after we had paid another £3.20 .Unbelievable.Apparently we have to pay to cover the technology used in the making of 3D films.

Well that's a complete load of bollocks isn't it?? We were paying because we had no choice. In other words they had us over the proverbial barrel, by the short and curlies and did they have any sympathy for our plight?Well what do you think?? And do you know what the most galling thing was when I spoke to the duty manager? Yes, I know its embarrassing... I actually went to a manager about it... She pointed out that it was written on my confirmation e-mail in red letters.

We now possess 4 pairs of 3D specs. The awful thing about 3D is that it is utterly unnecessary.What makes a great film is a great plot, great acting - not that you occasionally think bits of grit are flying out of the screen towards you.

I think that I need to go somewhere, do something... possibly take a long stick and beat a cushion to death. Maybe this is the perfect time to go for a run through the woods? I could get muddy and worn out and scream quite a lot.... For now I am going to have a cup of tea. ug...

Glad today is over...

Do you ever have those days where every plan you had gets eaten up by children and husbands and other general people?A day where you thought you would be studying and reading and actually it turns out that you spend your time taxiing kids, chasing husbands who forgot their mobile phones, doing Tescos.... and then your kids turn round and tell you they hate you anyway?


Of course you have those days.... we all have those days.... well, nearly all of us.Days where "you" get chewed up and spat out like an old piece of gristle that nobody wants.Today was one of those days for me.Just a day that I am glad is over.My children are sleeping peacefully, unaware of the carnage they have wrought, unaware of the fact that I am, funnily enough, a human being who used to have a life...


It seems a long time ago now, but I remember when my bathroom was fragrant with candles... not adorned with school uniform and football kit, lying as they were dropped, waiting for me to come and pick them up...I remember when my kitchen stayed pristine between meals and the possibility of muffin wrappers on my coffee table had never entered my head.I remember a time when my house was clean and smelled nice and my hallway was a place you could actually walk through without risk of serious injury from shoes, bags, shin pads or coats.

There will come a time.... I imagine in about 20 years, when my life will again be quiet and organised, fragrant and relaxed.There will come a time when the scent of teenager does permeate my existence and where there is only the distant echo of childrens voices telling me that they hate me.

If I ever moan, in that dim distant future, about the quiet or the peace or the calm..... please shoot me.

From secret housewife to angry fishwife....

I am, usually, a very calm person.Most people I know would probably describe me as pretty chilled out and I have, in the past ( much to my horror) been described as "placid".There are very few circumstances that rile me... I found myself, this weekend, however, in a situation that was both mortifying and unusual.I have discovered that I am not always the calm person I had considered myself.... and more...I have discovered that where my family is involved I am a bit of a tiger...


Yesterday we were watching my eldest play football. My husband runs the touchline most weeks and, to be honest, he is rather fed up of doing it.Before the match he told me that he would do the first half, but then someone else would have to do it.So, half time came and nobody stepped up to help.Although all the other dads had spent the first half moaning about my Man's offside decisions, all of a sudden they were all the walking wounded.There were bad backs, sore legs... you name it they had it. Every possible excuse not to get up and run the line.


So, I'm afraid I lost the plot..... I told them that my Man runs the line every week and never gets to watch his son actually play.They repeated their various ailments and obviously thought it quite amusing.I got up and raised my voice to tell them that they were"out of order", that it wasn't right that none of them could be bothered.I even said I would run the line ( dead glad my Man turned me down on that one as I had tight jeans,a floaty top and no sports bra on )I felt myself race past the point of no return as my voice grew louder and more shrill.I knew that I had turned, a la worm, from quiet yet enthusiastic football mum to all out harridan.


I am afraid that I ranted.Not a quiet, online, bloggy rant, but a full blown, fish wife,ground open up and swallow me with embarrassment rant...And still none of them got up to help.I sat down and shut up and fought back the tears.You could have cut the silence with a knife.


And then, of course, came the self analysis.Was I right to rant?Should I have let myself become quite that irate?Could I not have put my point over in a calmer way?Why did I get involved at all? All these questions swirled around my head.Had I hopelessly embarrassed both myself and my husband?


I think the answer is yes.Yes I could have been calmer and more measured and yes I did prove an embarrassment to our family as a whole.There was no need to get so angry and I don't really know why I reacted in that way. It was totally uncharacteristic of me. But, on the other hand, why should I, or anyone, put up with idle people who can't be bothered to give something back to the team?Should a person sit quietly and be trodden all over?Sometimes you have to stand up and be heard.I just can't sit and do nothing when I feel a member of my family is being wronged.I know it was hardly the Dreyfus Affair, but all my instincts are to protect.


Now I just have to face them all at training tomorrow night....

I am still here!!!! Going crazy with computer problems!!!

Aaaaaaagggghhhh!!!! At last!!! I have to type fast! I have to type fast... I have been trying to get on here for 4 hours... yes 4 hours.My computer is a nightmare.... can't get onto sites.... its really SSSSLLLLOOOOWWWW.

First.... a huge welcome to my new followers! Goodness me... I have tipped past the 50 mark and in my world that is MASSIVE!!!Usually I come and visit anyone who has been kind enough to visit me and follow, but I have had my hands tied by this pesky pc so have been unable to come to see you. I just about got to lovely lemony Renee before it all collapsed, but that's as far as I managed.

I promise I will come to visit you all as soon as I get this stupid thing sorted out. I want to see new followers and I want to visit all my friends.... Gail and Rowan and Inkling and Kork and Farm wife and Ruby Slippers and Mr London Street and Woman Raw. All the people whose blogs are such a big part of my life.For the last fortnight I feel like someone has chopped off my right arm or stuck a big stick in my eye.


Any minute now I might get cut off and goodness knows if this will post. If it does I will scream Eureka and run round the house whooping. If it doesn't I will just cry....


I have so much to write. So much to tell you and I am bubbling over not being able to get on here. I want to read about you too. I miss you!!! Please don't stop coming and leaving comments. I am here!!!! I just, at the moment have a horrible bloggy computer based condition....

What happened to the easy life??

a lazy day of Summer...

You may have noticed that my blog has lain unattended for far longer than is the norm.If you didn't notice... well, bear with me and be kind. Pretend you missed me like mad... The reason for my absence is a combination of events.It seems that the long lazy days of Summer are a thing of the past... a distant dream that I hold in my mind with fondness.




Having spent the Summer painting, drawing,reading....Oh, Gosh, how I miss it.... I find myself back in the throes of term time family life.Up at 7am, working,organising meals, organising children and their homework/sport/music,organising shopping for food... The list of stuff goes on and I am beginning to feel like the CEO of a major company - only they would have a PA to do all this #### whilst they went for power lunches.


No power lunches in my life, folks.I'm lucky to grab a coleslaw and corned beef sandwich... and that's on a good day!!


Still, please don't think I'm moaning about it all. Well, actually I am moaning, but its a light hearted one. The thing is though... where has all the "me time" gone?? Right now its 8.15pm and the boys are watching England play football on tv.This is the first time I've sat down all day and I just don't know how I am going to fit in running, or painting,or studying....or blogging.


The only way its going to happen is if I get up even earlier.Its going to have to be 6am for my run and I may have to buy a truck load of WD40 so I can oil my family machine and get us all to the places we need to go on time. I suppose I could sit back and make my life easier by just catering to all of these men in my world, but I am sooooooooooo not going to give up the things I enjoy.


I want to do all the activities I love... and more. Perhaps I should buy rocket boosters or a space time continuum device?

Your exuberance is exhausting...

I was reading an article today about Thandie Newton. She was warbling on, at one point, about her child/children and how they made her life complete and how they were her life.... blah, blah, blah... Oh God, I thought... am I weird? Am I the only parent out there who finds children exhausting?


We wandered around a lovely garden today( I shall post about it another time ) and my boys ( 9 & 11 ) were with us. Obviously. We don't get to have quiet romantic outings by ourselves any more... I suppose I should be glad that our parenting has produced confident, happy boys who fly around like demented bloody squirrels, but..... uh.... sometimes... enough is enough.


There are times when I long for the quiet, civilised life before the boys came along. The times when I could enjoy a long bath without having one or both of them come bursting in to use the toilet. The times when I didn't have to make anything for dinner if I didn't feel like it. The times when my lounge was not littered with DS games, Match magazine and the faint smell of pre teenage boy.


I read other blogs of people whose lives with children sound perfect. Their children are perfect, their lives are complete and they ask no more of life than to spend the day playing board games or watching a kids film with their offspring. Well, that is just not me... A lot of the time I can't stand being a mum. Yes, you heard me right. I want to do my kind of stuff... watch my kind of films, my kind of tv and spend days wandering around galleries... not washing muddy football kit whilst cooking industrial quantities of spag bol for the screaming hoards.


Sometimes I look at myself before kids and compare myself then to myself now... Now I am an exhausted, plump, sucked dry version of my old self. They are slowly draining my lifeblood as they blossom into young men. Like butterflies changing from caterpillars they are plumping up and as they grow more beautiful and more vibrant, I diminish and fade.


Is that what motherhood is? Do I have to sacrifice myself for them? I pretend to the world that I am Mrs Perfect Mum, but inside I mourn, selfishly you may well say, for the old me. I fully acknowledge that I am selfish in feeling this way. Perhaps this is the child left in me? My final gasp of self obsession.


Whatever the truth may be, I will never let them know how I feel about this. Perhaps my one good feature is that I keep up the pretence to the outside world that motherhood is a state of wonderful happiness, that this is what I love to be. For, no matter how exhausting I find them, no matter how irritating, one of the things about being a parent is that you have an overwhelming urge to protect the little blighters.... I think I may need a glass of wine...

A bit of a rant about copyright and downloads...

Last night I found it hard to sleep. I have been worrying about my other blog The Secret Gallery and the fact that visitors have been downloading my art work. The thing is... its a little blog, mainly for me to keep my stuff on and secretly I hope that one day someone might even want to buy some of my art. If I could get a portfolio and maybe show at a gallery around here, then that would be amazing!


But... I really get cross when people take the micky. I am pleased that people like my art enough to copy it, but honestly... don't they even have the courtesy to comment? To say " hello... I like your picture, do you mind if I download it?"I am not a mug. I know they are doing it. I know where they come from. It is just so frustrating. I can protect my words with software, but I can only protect my art with a big watermark spread over it, which is a shame.


I suppose I need to just accept it as part of the world we live in. I know that I have the originals. But I would hate to think that people were passing my work off as their own, or making money from it when I don't. Ah well. Enough ranting... here's a picture for you, part of a series I've been working on... the rest are in m'gallery.


red pointe shoes in watercolour