Month: March 2017

I went to a small independent school nestled in the heart of Surrey. It was, as small independent schools go, fairly normal but for one thing: it is the only school in the UK run by Christian Scientists. Most of the time it was all quite innocuous, of course. The teachers and pupils were all pleasant and fairly normal. The most explicit references to faith tended to be fairly untoward affairs, like assemblies that propounded virtue and annual trips to the local Christian Science church. That made the times its influence was obvious all the more memorable. First, there were the guidelines for Charity Week, in which students could pick three charities to support. Any charity was eligible at all, any at all, except those that funded medical research. Second was its effect when, like humpty dumpty, I had a great fall. Emerging rather bloodied from it, I was rushed to first aid, where I got all of a clean cloth, water, and a copy of the Christian Science Monitor. This is because Christian Science is a sect founded by Mary Baker Eddy which believes a number of interesting things, the most relevant of which is their own form of Manicheanism, in which the spiritual world is the truly real one and our ailments in the physical one are all indicative of spiritual ills. As such, curing our ailments requires only that we resolve our spiritual issues, all else being a distraction. They are very serious about this: their first church, located in Boston, maintains a list of every case their form of faith healing has worked, although it’s rather short on cases where it failed. It was all rare enough, and Christian Science is small enough, to be unthreatening and even occasionally quaint, but their aversion to medicine is troubling. Luckily, very few pupils took it seriously. Anonymous

My experience at the only Christian Science school in the UK

There are only 12 Christian Science schools in the world

I went to a small independent school nestled in the heart of Surrey. It was, as small independent schools go, fairly normal but for one thing: it is the only school in the UK run by Christian Scientists.

Most of the time it was all quite innocuous, of course. The teachers and pupils were all pleasant and fairly normal. The most explicit references to faith tended to be fairly untoward affairs, like assemblies that propounded virtue and annual trips to the local Christian Science church. That made the times its influence was obvious all the more memorable.

First, there were the guidelines for Charity Week, in which students could pick three charities to support. Any charity was eligible at all, any at all, except those that funded medical research.

Second was its effect when, like humpty dumpty, I had a great fall. Emerging rather bloodied from it, I was rushed to first aid, where I got all of a clean cloth, water, and a copy of the Christian Science Monitor.

This is because Christian Science is a sect founded by Mary Baker Eddy which believes a number of interesting things, the most relevant of which is their own form of Manicheanism, in which the spiritual world is the truly real one and our ailments in the physical one are all indicative of spiritual ills. As such, curing our ailments requires only that we resolve our spiritual issues, all else being a distraction. They are very serious about this: their first church, located in Boston, maintains a list of every case their form of faith healing has worked, although it’s rather short on cases where it failed.

It was all rare enough, and Christian Science is small enough, to be unthreatening and even occasionally quaint, but their aversion to medicine is troubling. Luckily, very few pupils took it seriously.

Anonymous

I’m a vicar and the governor of a church school. And I know that faith schools are wrong.

“Rather than pandering to the views of the vociferous few from within each faith community, the government should put the needs of the wider community first and set in motion plans that will see the removal of all faith schools, bringing them back under common, secular control.”  

 It may sound like a ‘turkey voting for Christmas’ when I write as the Vicar of 6 Church of England parishes, and as the ex-officio governor of 3 church primary schools, to say that I believe that the government is approaching the issue of faith schools from the wrong end.

This government should be showing leadership rather than playing to the perceived wishes of a possibly influential lobby: that is the communities of faith in the UK.  In the interest of providing a broad, inclusive curriculum delivered to all pupils and in order to further develop integration (and not fragmentation) in a multi-cultural society ALL faith schools should be run by government (be it local or national).

“There is so little that unifies us as citizens of a common nation that fragmenting the education system still further does not seem that wise to me.”

Faith schools are an anachronistic hangover from the days when the provision of elementary education was largely dependent upon the initiatives from, initially, the Church of England (as the Established Church) in the days before state funded education. The 1944 Education Act cemented the role of faith schools (Anglican, Catholic and Jewish) principally because of the economic cost of ‘buying’ back into state ownership the buildings and land on which faith schools stood.

With the arrival of significant numbers from other faith groups, it was felt, in the interest of equity, that these groups too could open there own faith schools. This principal was also applied to other Christian groups.

And so of the 20,000 (approx.) schools in England almost one third are faith schools, be they Church of England, Methodist,  CofE/Methodist, CofE/Methodist/United Reform Church/Baptist, CofE/Free Church, Roman Catholic, CofE/RC, Greek Orthodox, Hindu, Jewish, Muslim, Quaker, Seventh Day Adventist, Sikh, or Reformed Church.

“I would argue that to live, work, and grow up amongst a wide variety of traditions will build closer ties between different communities, build bonds and break down barriers of misunderstanding that can lead to pigeon holing, prejudice, and bigotry.”

There is so little that unifies us as citizens of a common nation that fragmenting the education system still further does not seem that wise to me. How can young people learn to experience the richness of different traditions (including Humanism) if they do not grow up together? The reality of Faith Schools is that it is extremely unlikely that religious families, of whatever tradition, would choose for their child a school of an alternative Faith tradition; and if secular families are unwilling to choose Anglican Schools for their child what chance is there that they would be happy with one of the other Faith Schools? The upshot is that Faith Schools, particularly in towns and cities, will become more and more SINGLE Faith Schools. The result then becomes more and more narrowing, rather than broadening, of the educational experience.

I would argue that to live, work, and grow up amongst a wide variety of traditions will build closer ties between different communities, build bonds and break down barriers of misunderstanding that can lead to pigeon holing, prejudice, and bigotry. (Just a brief look at the educational experience of Northern Ireland in the last century illustrates the dangers that can result from exclusive single faith schools.)  The removal of this faith impediment in education can only strengthen the common bonds that unite us as citizens of the United Kingdom and help reinforce those values that that lie at the heart of our shared culture.

In promoting the increase in the number of Faith School politicians argue that such schools tend to produce better results. A major factor for this is that the selection processes for entry into those Faith Schools rated as good or outstanding, particularly in cities, seem to have been purpose built to favour ambitious middle class parents. There are Faith Schools in this country occupying sites in deprived neighbourhoods where the majority of the pupils come in from outside, attracted by the ‘quality’ of education, while those who live nearest are excluded from their local school and have to travel to schools further afield  because their parents are not so adept at ‘playing’ the application process. Should a government apparently committed to improving opportunities for all really be increasing opportunities to discriminate against the most disadvantaged in our society?

“We need schools where children of all faiths and none can live and learn alongside one another in an atmosphere of tolerance, love and respect.”

For me, Christianity is a religion that has grown out of a tradition of speaking ‘Truth to Power’; that is confronting those in power with the implications of their actions regardless of cost. Jesus was the ultimate example of this and paid for his outspokenness with his life. Throughout its history the Church has been potent in bringing about change (e.g. in the last 200 years: slavery (although it is important to note that in 1807 all the Bishops in the House of Lords voted in favour of the slave trade), civil rights, female emancipation, opposition to homophobia when, initially, the voices of a few spoke out against the majority closely allied to custom and the institutions of power and oppression. Should a religion proclaiming that true freedom is found in the weakness of the child born in the stable who grew up to be crucified on the cross continue to side with the exercise of power and the reward of privilege as represented in our Faith Schools?

If the Church is to imitate Jesus and many great men and women of our tradition it must be willing to step back from its seat at the tables of power, be it Faith Schools or the right to automatic membership of the House of Lords, and call for justice and equity across the whole of society, including in the education system, from outside. The efficacy of its witness has to be based on its truth and authenticity and not on an unhealthy historical association with power. We need schools where children of all faiths and none can live and learn alongside one another in an atmosphere of tolerance, love and respect. These are the core values of all religions and ethical systems as well as being the values that our society should be doing all in its power to instil in its young people. Unity of opportunity and not fragmentation has to be the way forward.

Rather than pandering to the views of the vociferous few from within each faith community, the government should put the needs of the wider community first and set in motion plans that will see the removal of all faith schools, bringing them back under common, secular control.

Revd Joe Edwards

Vicar of the Lower Stour and Bridge Benefices, Dorset; comprising of the villages of Blandford St Mary, Charlton Marshall, Spetisbury, Shapwick, Sturminster Marshall and Kingston Lacy.

Five ‘ACE’ years: my story of a fundamentalist education – part two

This is the second part of a two-part piece. The first part, posted last week, can be read here.

When I tell people I was home-schooled, they think one of my parents must have been a teacher (or at least educated beyond GCSEs), or that I had a private tutor. I’m met with faces of disbelief when I try to explain that I didn’t have a teacher at all.

I could memorise the information I was fed by Accelerated Christian Education (ACE) in their published booklets, but if I didn’t understand, or had questions, or wanted to learn something outside of that very narrow, biased curriculum, I had nowhere to turn. I feel like I didn’t learn anything at all over the four crucial years between 13 and 17. I wasn’t supervised on any level. After an initial period of enthusiasm for home-education, my mother lost interest and indeed the energy to try and make sure five young children were engaged with their studies. Most days, the youngest kids would be taken out to run errands and make visits to friends with mother, while the (slightly) older children were left in a house to get on with chores, clean and cook dinners. This is how I spent the majority of my days – keeping house and child-minding.

“I lost years of my life that I can’t get back and the consequences of which I will always have to live with.”

Because PACEs (Packets of Accelerated Christian Education) only require those learning from them to read a comprehension text and fill out the blanks in the sentences that follow, or to answer questions by slightly rewriting what you have just written in the text, it is very easy to fill out without any understanding or gaining any knowledge from them. What is more, the child is meant to mark their own work by checking their answers against an answer booklet. If supervised, the child should ask permission to mark their work. However, alone at home, it was easy to cheat. Entire PACEs could be filled out in one go by copying from the answer book. Without an atmosphere conducive for learning, with nothing to inspire or engage the mind and with no adult attention whatsoever, it is surely no surprise that the ACE curriculum, such as it is, would be misused.

What is more, as home-schoolers, we would only be inspected once a year at most. We would know of the date of the visit in advance, allowing us to knock-up a portfolio of examples of what we had been doing the past year. The portfolio would largely be made up of cute photos of us all crafting. Here we are basket weaving, here we are oil painting, here we are stroking a rabbit and learning about animal-husbandry. On the day the inspector would come, I would be in the kitchen making home made scones to offer him. We would be so pleasant and twee, how could anyone think that these children were being neglected in anyway? The inspector would then have a chat with the parent rather than the child who would be left alone for another year.

“Had I been allowed to develop my mind, broaden my understanding of the world, meet people different from myself, I am sure my eventual transition into the outside world would have been a lot more manageable.”

When thinking of home-schoolers, people tend to worry about their social skills. Will they be able to integrate into society later in life? Will they be super nerdy and unable to socialise? While I’m sure being home-schooled can make things more difficult due to the physical isolation from other children, I believe this is not as damaging as the isolation that comes from being totally alienated from the culture, common knowledge and shared experiences of the majority of the population. I put my social anxiety down to the deep inferiority I was left with once I entered the outside world and found out how very alien I really was. I didn’t seem to know anything that anyone else knew; from basic math, science, geography and history knowledge to understanding popular culture references, ways of communicating and finding areas of commonality with others. I couldn’t spell well, my vocabulary was restricted, I didn’t know the names of countries and capitals, I’d never been abroad. I hadn’t watched TV or “secular” films. I didn’t know any songs on the radio or the names of any celebrities. Wherever I went, I was always the freak and the outsider.

A quote from the first part of this piece.

The combination of physical, intellectual and cultural isolation has resulted in my suffering from social anxiety disorder, selective mutism, generalised anxiety disorder and chronic depression. If I had had at least one of those areas intact, had I been allowed to develop my mind, broaden my understanding of the world, meet people different from myself, I am sure my eventual transition into the outside world would have been a lot more manageable.

I don’t know what my future would have looked like if there wasn’t an intervention around the age of 17. This did not come from a government worker or any other official. Simply, my mother had a nervous breakdown and I could no longer safely live in the same house as her. This being known within the church, another family took me in temporarily. I continued to do my PACEs during my stay with them; sometimes I had the company of the mum of the house who was doing an Open University course, sometimes I was alone because the parents were at work and their two children at school. They had a daughter who was my age and she was applying to do her A Levels at a local grammar school. They thought, why not try to enrol me as well? This was how I escaped. The school took a chance on me. A family supported me. Of course it was extremely challenging entering the school system, but that’s more than I can say here.

Ten years later, I still feel the effects of having been stunted in my education and development. I feel I was prevented from achieving my full potential, even from achieving a small percentage of my potential. I lost years of my life that I can’t get back and the consequences of which I will always have to live with.

Anonymous