For most of the last twelve years, I've been a stay-at-home mum. As I've said before, I didn't think I'd be at home for this long, but of course we don't always know how things will turn out. I didn't know, for example, that I'd want to have kids. I didn't know that I'd struggle with the idea of having someone else take care of them. It is pretty much taken for granted - and certainly reflected in government policy - that once you've had your baby, you'll take up to a year off, and then pick up where you left off at work, placing your child in a daycare nursery, or with a childminder. Or, if you're fortunate, a grandparent will take care of them, or perhaps you're able to work opposite shifts to your partner to cover childcare. Please don't misunderstand me: I'm not criticising those who do return to paid work after maternity leave. There are times when I find myself wondering if I should have done so. Someone somewhere in cyberspace commented recently that it seems as though motherhood is regarded as a two-year occupation; once your children are in nursery there's really no reason to stay at home. There are lots of reasons why I think that person's observation is very astute (sorry I can't remember who you are!) but one that stands out to me is that for many women, quite apart from the financial pressure, a couple of years is perhaps the maximum period of time they feel able to stay at home before they begin to be perceived as unemployable. I discovered the possible truth in this a few years ago when I decided to return to teaching. I realise now that I actually didn't really want to - I just felt like I ought to. Now, maybe I really was a pile of pants, but it didn't matter how cleverly I wrote out my personal statement, I couldn't raise a response. I suspect that the problem was that no matter how good I actually was (or not) as a teacher, the words 'family responsibilities' glowed like warning beacons from the front page of my application form. It didn't seem to matter that I'd volunteered for months at my kids' school, been doing a few hours of private tuition a week, and held the post of company secretary on the management board of my local pre school. That stuff they tell you about how volunteering looks good on your CV? I'm not sure that I believe it.
I really think that there's an assumption amongst employers and those who do return to the paid workplace that once you resign your job to take up the unpaid but very worthwhile post of stay-at-home parent, you somehow lose any brainpower, knowledge and competence you ever had. You are, after all, merely a wiper of bottoms, and a visitor of toddler groups. And when the kids have gone to school, well, what were you doing hanging around at home for that long? Anyone who has ever parented knows that this image of intellectually undemanding loafing is about as far from the truth as you can get. Apart from utilising my teaching skills and a whole bunch of specialist knowledge I've acquired about helping learners with neurodevelopmental disorders, there are a host of other competencies upon which I am required to draw on a daily basis.
To begin with, being my own boss, I am required to structure my time for maximum effectiveness whilst maintaining a considerable degree of flexibility. I must plan and resource all family meals, taking into account nutrition, fussy ten year olds and available funds. I must also employ my baking and cake decorating skills numerous times over the course of a year to satisfy the wishes of all those family members in possession of a birthday. I must manage the budget for Christmas, balancing what people want with what we can actually afford and figuring out what presents I can make to save money (we don't do credit for Christmas). I must call upon my negotiation skills to keep warring factions from destroying the house and each other. I might be faced with the need for HAZMAT containment and disposal at short notice, often with only improvised equipment at hand. Over the years I have honed my tempera painting skills, made slippers out of felt (and made the felt to make the slippers), sewn costumes, upcycled many different items, grown a wide variety of fruit and veg, given kayaking instruction, helped write comedy sketches, explained how babies are made, constructed furniture, diagnosed illnesses and completed tax returns. This very day I have explored William Paley's Watchmaker Analogy with my twelve year old. In short, I am capable, quick to learn new skills, creative, effective and flexible. Do I sound unemployable?
I am in no way exceptional. There are many people just like me who can do all of this and probably a whole lot more. It's just a shame that because it 's unpaid and not validated externally by some CPD body or other, it's not considered to be fulfilling, challenging work. I'm not writing about all of this because I want someone to give me a job. For many reasons, and while we can manage on the income we have, I've decided that I don't want to go back to a conventional workplace for the foreseeable future, if ever. The reasons I'm writing about all this are twofold: firstly, I would like to challenge the assumption that stay at home parenting deskills people. It seems to me that the combination of a limited budget and and a bit of thinking time is ideal for developing creativity and ingenuity in problem solving. Secondly, if you're in the position of being an employer and you spot an application form in the pile on your desk which includes the words 'looking after family' in the employment history section, please don't assume that the applicant has a head full of nappies and daytime telly. Please take the time to consider what it actually means in practical terms to give up an income to raise a family. Please don't file that application under 'B'.
Tuesday, 16 September 2014
Friday, 12 September 2014
Autumn Crafty Bits
My garden smells like September, and this makes me very happy. I like spring and summer, but I really look forward to autumn and winter. I get excited about digging out the jumpers and woolly gloves, and the arrival of Bramley apples in the shops.
I'm fond of a bit of bunting or a garland here or there, and last year I made a felt one in autumnal colours. It hung on the mantelpiece looking quite lovely until my children decided to have a sword fight in the living room. Turns out felt garlands aren't swordproof. Anyway, I finally got round to mending it and here it is, although who knows how long it'll survive. It's a pretty easy garland to make and you can adapt it to use more or less any fabric you like. It's a good way to upcycle old clothes.
I started by cutting some felt I had made into circles about 4cm in diameter. I made three or four batches in different colours and then just fed them one by one through the sewing machine. In spite of the fact that my sewing machine is far from fancy it handled the felt very well, although I had to leave the presser foot up because some of the circles were more than 5mm thick. Once I was happy with the length, I sewed hanging loops made from some packaging string I happened to have on each end.
Here's another autumn felt project that I'm pretty pleased with:
I'm fond of a bit of bunting or a garland here or there, and last year I made a felt one in autumnal colours. It hung on the mantelpiece looking quite lovely until my children decided to have a sword fight in the living room. Turns out felt garlands aren't swordproof. Anyway, I finally got round to mending it and here it is, although who knows how long it'll survive. It's a pretty easy garland to make and you can adapt it to use more or less any fabric you like. It's a good way to upcycle old clothes.
I started by cutting some felt I had made into circles about 4cm in diameter. I made three or four batches in different colours and then just fed them one by one through the sewing machine. In spite of the fact that my sewing machine is far from fancy it handled the felt very well, although I had to leave the presser foot up because some of the circles were more than 5mm thick. Once I was happy with the length, I sewed hanging loops made from some packaging string I happened to have on each end.
Here's another autumn felt project that I'm pretty pleased with:
These little pumpkins are made from shop bought felt, which is much thinner than the chunky stuff I make myself, and therefore lends itself to layering. Each one is made from three circles of felt machine sewn together, with a couple of leaves hand sewn to the top. I left a long tail of thread attached so that I could hang them up. I used an orange Sharpie to draw round the circle templates, and I was going to trim the pen marks off, but I didn't because I quite liked the darker edges on the circles: they look a bit like ridges on the pumpkin skin. Of course you could make these little decorations in any shape you liked. Something for the Christmas tree, perhaps?
Friday, 5 September 2014
Introverts At School
I didn't particularly enjoy school - well, not the social side, anyway. I did like learning things, but I always felt uneasy, as though I didn't quite belong, and that I had nothing in common with the other kids. Even as a twelve year old I can remember reflecting on this, and wondering what exactly was wrong with me. I know now that there was nothing wrong, and that this had a lot to do with the fact that I am an introvert. It's not that I don't like people - I do - but I, like approximately a third to a half of the population - find social interaction draining, as opposed to extraverts who feel perked up and energised by being around people. I best recharge by spending time alone. I like to think and reflect, and take a bit of time to come up with my ideas. I'm not keen on spending a lot of time in crowds, or having to come up with on-the-spot answers. I find small talk exhausting, and when whoever is leading a service at church says 'find someone you've never spoken to before and say hi to them!' I feel like someone has reached down my throat, grabbed my intestines and attempted to make balloon animals with them. Introversion is not the same as being shy, or socially anxious. The same me who finds chatting at church hard is not at all shy about getting up on stage and singing into a microphone. It's just a preference for a certain way of functioning. As introversion and extraversion are at each end of a continuum, we might be more extreme in our preference, or we might find ourselves more towards the middle.
The thing about mainstream education in western culture is that it is largely built by and for those with extraverted preferences. I read a great article recently by the author Susan Cain. In it, she discussed the need for schools to function in a more introvert-friendly way and although the context for her article was American, much of what she wrote about was applicable to the UK, too. She pointed out that schools are often set up, both in terms of physical layout and ethos, in such a way as to favour extravert learning and working styles. Culturally, the tendency is to think that it is the loudest, most outgoing, most outwardly energetic who have the best ideas, who make the best leaders, and who are the most successful. The best ideas come from people collaborating with each other at every stage of the creative process and there's something not quite right with those who wish to work alone. We need to share! Share everything! Now! I've often encountered evidence of this thinking, but two examples that I've come across lately stand out: first of all, while chatting with a mum who wanted her child to 'come out of her shell' - I'm all for children gaining confidence socially but this mum seemed to want more than that: she wanted her daughter, who seemed a perfectly lovely introvert, to become what she wasn't. The second encounter with this thinking came when I noticed a 'What Literary Character Are You?' quiz appearing all over Facebook. Liking books, I thought I'd take the quiz for a bit of fun and there, in the middle of it, was a question that asked what I felt my biggest flaw was. It gave me a choice of answers, one of which was 'I'm too introverted'. How, may I ask, is extreme introversion a flaw? If you think I'm just being a bit sensitive about the wording in a daft quiz, it's worth pointing out that just a year or two ago, there was debate amongst American healthcare professionals over whether or not introversion was an indicator of mental health issues. Thankfully it was decided that the wording in the fifth edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders should be changed to reflect the fact that introversion is not a condition.
If it is true that there's a cultural bias - certainly in the western world - and if this cultural bias extends into our education system, then we're not doing up to half of the nation's children and young people any favours. Experience as a child, a teacher and a parent persuades me that this is the case. When OFSTED come calling, what they're wanting to see is pacy lessons, with children responding to questions more or less instantly. Take a look in my daughter's new student handbook and you'll find pages of writing impressing upon children the importance of collaborative work, and the rewards that shall be theirs should they be able to show everyone just how collaborative they are. My Dad, an extremely intelligent introvert, hates conferences and training sessions he has to attend for work, because he knows that at some point someone will say 'and now let's get into groups'. And yet, that's a practice enthusiastically encouraged in professional development events, and often the accepted way of judging competence. I've had to take part in more than one group interview before. At a certain university local to me, it was part of the selection process for admission, and it was hideous. I said one thing. It must have been OK, because they offered me a place, but I didn't take it. So there. But it's a point to ponder: how many potentially amazing teachers or doctors or managers or whatever have been lost because society favours methods of selection with which only a third to a half of the population are comfortable?
So, apart from moaning about extraverts, what am I trying to say here? Actually, I'm not moaning about extraverts at all. I even have some as friends, and between us two introverts, my husband and I have managed to produce one. What I am trying to say is that if you're a teacher and you're not already doing this, it's vital that you consider carefully how you can set up your classroom and plan your lessons so that you're enabling individual learners to work in the way that is most helpful for them. Don't have every desk arranged into tables of four or six. Offer the option of working in ones or twos to those who may do better that way, and be careful about using working alone as a sanction. Don't make all your whole class teaching oral and quickfire. Seek out the quieter kids and find out what they're interested in, and what they think. Offer them leadership opportunities. Look at how you can enable your introverts to develop skills which come more naturally to extraverts and vice versa, in ways that don't take them way beyond their comfort zones for extended periods of time.
If you're parenting an introvert, how can you help them navigate their way through school without it becoming an exhausting ordeal? How can you help them to see school as a place to thrive, not merely survive? Here are a few thoughts. Firstly, accept their preference and help them to understand how they function. If they feel as though there's something wrong with them, help them to see that this isn't the case. Do offer lots of praise when they decide to do something that isn't normally 'them', like take a speaking part in the drama festival or whatever, but don't (as I have been guilty of doing in the past, for fear that my children would be like me) tell them that you wish they'd join in more, or come out of their shell, or have more friends. It's not that you don't want them to be socially confident in lots of different settings, but building their confidence in who they are is a far more successful way of achieving this. And anyway, you can be perfectly confident on the sidelines. Understand too, that they may well feel as though they don't quite belong in school, that they aren't on the same wavelength as everyone else. Psychologist David Keirsey pointed out that introverted children often feel like this in school, but find more people like them as they move into higher education. That, to a degree, has been my experience.
Secondly, be their advocate. If teachers bring up your child's apparent reticence, or their lack of input in class, ask them how they make provision in their planning and teaching for those with a more introverted working style. They'll love you. But seriously, allowing for introverted preferences in the classroom not only benefits the introverts, who are often forced to work in an extraverted way that doesn't come naturally, but gives extraverted kids the opportunity to develop and practise skills which become increasingly important as they take more responsibility for their own learning.
Thirdly, encourage strategies for coping with that extraverted world out there. Whether we love it or struggle with it, most of us spend time with people on a regular basis, and need to interact in all kinds of ways. Depending on how much of an introvert your child is, recognise that they may well need a period of recovery when they get home from school: try to resist the urge to ask them about their day straight away, unless they want to tell you. Allow them some time to decompress. I know, for example, that I will get very little out of number two child until teatime. He needs to watch some TV, or play with his Lego, or do something else by himself because he's spent the whole day being with other people. I've realised recently that I probably allow my older two (the youngest isn't really a computer game fan) a far greater amount of screen time than many other parents, which I'm sure will horrify some. But when your head is buzzing, and you're craving solitude, it can be great to disappear into a Minecraft world and be creative, or trawl through loomband tutorials to find something new to make. Screen time isn't necessarily wasted time.
Another thing with which introverts can struggle is talking to people they don't know. I find this particularly hard, especially when I have a specific query, or I have to give information about something. I know what I want to say, but I lose the power of intelligible speech, and sound like I've left my brain behind under my pillow. Communicating in this way is a skill, and like every skill, some people find it comes more easily than others. Talking to people you don't know happens a lot in large secondary schools, especially when you're new, and encouraging your child to rehearse what they might want to say in a particular situation can help. Having a mental stock of smalltalky phrases can be useful too, when meeting new people. Asking a question is a good thing to do, because you can then listen while someone else does all the talking. Of course, you might discover that you're talking to a fellow introvert, and that you have all sorts of things in common.
To some people, it may seem as though I'm asking for special treatment for introverts. I might have introverted preferences, but I don't think I deserve any better than my extraverted friends. I do think that there's more riding on this than we realise, though. It's not just about placating a particular group of people for the sake of it: both introverts and extraverts need to feel confident in their preferences, and they both need particular things from a school or workplace setup to be at their most productive and creative; surely society needs people to be both of those things. It's a matter of recognising the value in different ways of functioning, and demonstrating this recognition in practical ways.
What do you think? Do you have anything to add? I'd love to hear from you.
The thing about mainstream education in western culture is that it is largely built by and for those with extraverted preferences. I read a great article recently by the author Susan Cain. In it, she discussed the need for schools to function in a more introvert-friendly way and although the context for her article was American, much of what she wrote about was applicable to the UK, too. She pointed out that schools are often set up, both in terms of physical layout and ethos, in such a way as to favour extravert learning and working styles. Culturally, the tendency is to think that it is the loudest, most outgoing, most outwardly energetic who have the best ideas, who make the best leaders, and who are the most successful. The best ideas come from people collaborating with each other at every stage of the creative process and there's something not quite right with those who wish to work alone. We need to share! Share everything! Now! I've often encountered evidence of this thinking, but two examples that I've come across lately stand out: first of all, while chatting with a mum who wanted her child to 'come out of her shell' - I'm all for children gaining confidence socially but this mum seemed to want more than that: she wanted her daughter, who seemed a perfectly lovely introvert, to become what she wasn't. The second encounter with this thinking came when I noticed a 'What Literary Character Are You?' quiz appearing all over Facebook. Liking books, I thought I'd take the quiz for a bit of fun and there, in the middle of it, was a question that asked what I felt my biggest flaw was. It gave me a choice of answers, one of which was 'I'm too introverted'. How, may I ask, is extreme introversion a flaw? If you think I'm just being a bit sensitive about the wording in a daft quiz, it's worth pointing out that just a year or two ago, there was debate amongst American healthcare professionals over whether or not introversion was an indicator of mental health issues. Thankfully it was decided that the wording in the fifth edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders should be changed to reflect the fact that introversion is not a condition.
If it is true that there's a cultural bias - certainly in the western world - and if this cultural bias extends into our education system, then we're not doing up to half of the nation's children and young people any favours. Experience as a child, a teacher and a parent persuades me that this is the case. When OFSTED come calling, what they're wanting to see is pacy lessons, with children responding to questions more or less instantly. Take a look in my daughter's new student handbook and you'll find pages of writing impressing upon children the importance of collaborative work, and the rewards that shall be theirs should they be able to show everyone just how collaborative they are. My Dad, an extremely intelligent introvert, hates conferences and training sessions he has to attend for work, because he knows that at some point someone will say 'and now let's get into groups'. And yet, that's a practice enthusiastically encouraged in professional development events, and often the accepted way of judging competence. I've had to take part in more than one group interview before. At a certain university local to me, it was part of the selection process for admission, and it was hideous. I said one thing. It must have been OK, because they offered me a place, but I didn't take it. So there. But it's a point to ponder: how many potentially amazing teachers or doctors or managers or whatever have been lost because society favours methods of selection with which only a third to a half of the population are comfortable?
So, apart from moaning about extraverts, what am I trying to say here? Actually, I'm not moaning about extraverts at all. I even have some as friends, and between us two introverts, my husband and I have managed to produce one. What I am trying to say is that if you're a teacher and you're not already doing this, it's vital that you consider carefully how you can set up your classroom and plan your lessons so that you're enabling individual learners to work in the way that is most helpful for them. Don't have every desk arranged into tables of four or six. Offer the option of working in ones or twos to those who may do better that way, and be careful about using working alone as a sanction. Don't make all your whole class teaching oral and quickfire. Seek out the quieter kids and find out what they're interested in, and what they think. Offer them leadership opportunities. Look at how you can enable your introverts to develop skills which come more naturally to extraverts and vice versa, in ways that don't take them way beyond their comfort zones for extended periods of time.
If you're parenting an introvert, how can you help them navigate their way through school without it becoming an exhausting ordeal? How can you help them to see school as a place to thrive, not merely survive? Here are a few thoughts. Firstly, accept their preference and help them to understand how they function. If they feel as though there's something wrong with them, help them to see that this isn't the case. Do offer lots of praise when they decide to do something that isn't normally 'them', like take a speaking part in the drama festival or whatever, but don't (as I have been guilty of doing in the past, for fear that my children would be like me) tell them that you wish they'd join in more, or come out of their shell, or have more friends. It's not that you don't want them to be socially confident in lots of different settings, but building their confidence in who they are is a far more successful way of achieving this. And anyway, you can be perfectly confident on the sidelines. Understand too, that they may well feel as though they don't quite belong in school, that they aren't on the same wavelength as everyone else. Psychologist David Keirsey pointed out that introverted children often feel like this in school, but find more people like them as they move into higher education. That, to a degree, has been my experience.
Secondly, be their advocate. If teachers bring up your child's apparent reticence, or their lack of input in class, ask them how they make provision in their planning and teaching for those with a more introverted working style. They'll love you. But seriously, allowing for introverted preferences in the classroom not only benefits the introverts, who are often forced to work in an extraverted way that doesn't come naturally, but gives extraverted kids the opportunity to develop and practise skills which become increasingly important as they take more responsibility for their own learning.
Thirdly, encourage strategies for coping with that extraverted world out there. Whether we love it or struggle with it, most of us spend time with people on a regular basis, and need to interact in all kinds of ways. Depending on how much of an introvert your child is, recognise that they may well need a period of recovery when they get home from school: try to resist the urge to ask them about their day straight away, unless they want to tell you. Allow them some time to decompress. I know, for example, that I will get very little out of number two child until teatime. He needs to watch some TV, or play with his Lego, or do something else by himself because he's spent the whole day being with other people. I've realised recently that I probably allow my older two (the youngest isn't really a computer game fan) a far greater amount of screen time than many other parents, which I'm sure will horrify some. But when your head is buzzing, and you're craving solitude, it can be great to disappear into a Minecraft world and be creative, or trawl through loomband tutorials to find something new to make. Screen time isn't necessarily wasted time.
Another thing with which introverts can struggle is talking to people they don't know. I find this particularly hard, especially when I have a specific query, or I have to give information about something. I know what I want to say, but I lose the power of intelligible speech, and sound like I've left my brain behind under my pillow. Communicating in this way is a skill, and like every skill, some people find it comes more easily than others. Talking to people you don't know happens a lot in large secondary schools, especially when you're new, and encouraging your child to rehearse what they might want to say in a particular situation can help. Having a mental stock of smalltalky phrases can be useful too, when meeting new people. Asking a question is a good thing to do, because you can then listen while someone else does all the talking. Of course, you might discover that you're talking to a fellow introvert, and that you have all sorts of things in common.
To some people, it may seem as though I'm asking for special treatment for introverts. I might have introverted preferences, but I don't think I deserve any better than my extraverted friends. I do think that there's more riding on this than we realise, though. It's not just about placating a particular group of people for the sake of it: both introverts and extraverts need to feel confident in their preferences, and they both need particular things from a school or workplace setup to be at their most productive and creative; surely society needs people to be both of those things. It's a matter of recognising the value in different ways of functioning, and demonstrating this recognition in practical ways.
What do you think? Do you have anything to add? I'd love to hear from you.
Monday, 1 September 2014
'Here's One We Made Earlier' at the Lowry
As an end of summer holiday treat, we took a trip to Salford Quays yesterday. It's been a while since I last visited the Quays - ten years to be precise. In that time, the MediaCityUK complex has opened, which is home to the BBC and ITV as well as other organisations. There's plenty to see and do: the Imperial War Museum North is here, as well as the Lowry Centre, which houses the world's largest collection of L.S. Lowry's paintings. You can take a boat trip on the Manchester Shipping Canal, visit the Lyric Theatre, shop at the outlet mall, or do what we were there to do: see the 'Here's One We Made Earlier' exhibition, which celebrates 90 years of radio and television broadcasting to children.
Once the children realised where we were going, however, we were informed that there were other important things to be seen before we could take a look at the exhibition. The most important of these was the Blue Peter garden, which was moved from London when CBBC was relocated. I hadn't realised that you could actually go into the garden, but indeed you can. There are even signs to point the way.
It felt a bit like a pilgrimage, walking round the pond, taking in the statue of Petra the dog (who died the year I was born), and seeing Goldie's paw print in the cement.
Once the children realised where we were going, however, we were informed that there were other important things to be seen before we could take a look at the exhibition. The most important of these was the Blue Peter garden, which was moved from London when CBBC was relocated. I hadn't realised that you could actually go into the garden, but indeed you can. There are even signs to point the way.
The exhibition itself was outstanding. Entry to the galleries at the Lowry is free, although they do suggest a 'donation amount' of £5 per family, which seemed fair enough, and very reasonable compared with suggested donation amounts I've come across at other places. I had expected it to be very busy, and although there were quite a few people there, it wasn't overcrowded. The children there were all, quite predictably, very excited. The adults wandered round with an entranced, not-quite-there look about them, lost as they clearly were in memories of childhood box-watching. I must admit, it is really quite wonderful to encounter Bagpuss, Humpty from Playschool and Gordon the Gopher up close and in the fur, so to speak.
My children were delighted to see sets from Wolfblood and Strange Hill High. The youngest read a story in the CBeebies Bedtime Hour window seat. We were all excited to see Helen Skelton's kayak and bike from two of her various Sport Relief challenges. My husband experienced a degree of cycle envy, I do believe.
We had a look round the Lowry Collection, too, and although I love Lowry's paintings, it was all a bit of an anticlimax for the kids, who in spite of our best efforts, couldn't muster up much interest after Hacker, Blue Peter and Shaun the Sheep. Maybe one day, eh?
'Here's One We Made Earlier' is on until October 12th, so there's still time to catch it. See www.thelowry.com for more details.
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