 |
THE GUARDIAN |
 |
 |
COMMENT |
|
No
more lost boys Black parents must
play their part in challenging
a system that sees
African-Caribbean males
consistently fail at school Hugh
Muir The
Guardian An east London office
in the 1960s. It is just after
9am. As a team of white
education bureaucrats prepare
for their day of calls and
paperwork, they realise that a
Jamaican woman, in her best
coat and hat and surrounded by
three children, has quietly
colonised one corner of the
room. She has reading
material, food and a Thermos
flask. She has clearly
planned for a lengthy stay.
She tells them she has come to
see the director of education,
and though for a while she
becomes an object of mirth,
they realise four hours later,
once she has served lunch for
the children and settled down
for the afternoon, that she is
serious. Two hours later, when
the director of education
finally appears, the woman is
gracious as she tells him that
his officials seem loth to let
her daughter go to the best
local school even though she
has the grades to do so. He
promises to investigate and
she leaves, but not before she
has asserted her right to
resurrect the protest if the
matter is not resolved. There was, in the
event, no need. The director
intervened and the allocation
was changed. The girl thrived,
did well in her A-levels and
is now that uncommon species:
a black teacher. Neither my
late mother - who staged the
sit-in - or my sister, the
beneficiary, would have
imagined that their small
battle with the authorities
would have any resonance 40
years later. But with the release
today of a new report into the
underachievement of black
pupils in the British school
system, it is clear that the
need for black parents to take
a protective stance towards
their children is, if
anything, more urgent today
than it was then. Too often,
we are pushing them into a
system that should prepare
them for life in our
fast-moving global economies
only to see them emerge
mangled at the other end. Horror stories are
popular and devotees of the
genre can do no better than
turn to an examination by the
London Development Agency's
education commission into the
scandal. Using data from
2002-03, it shows that after a
bright start at primary
school, the fortunes of black
boys nosedive from year two. They gain fewer
qualifications than their
white counterparts. They fare
less well than other
minorities. In London, black
boys who could be categorised
as middle class do less well
than boys from other
minorities who are working
class. They are excluded from
school at a rate three times
higher than white pupils. They
tell of teachers who victimise
and stereotype them and damn
them with the crippling weight
of low expectations. Well they
would say that, wouldn't they?
But they are
supported by black parents who
tell how they are shunned and
belittled by the school
authorities; and by black
teachers who complain of an
institutional racism which
means they rarely progress as
far as their talents might
allow. The true horror
unfolds when one reads the
summary of the different
studies that have examined
this problem over the past 30
years. In 1971, in his report
How the West Indian Child is
Made Educationally Sub-normal
in the British School System,
Bernard Coard perceived three
issues disabling the black
schoolboy. "Low
expectations on his part about
his likely performance in a
white-controlled system of
education. Low motivation to
succeed academically because
he feels the cards are stacked
against him; and low teacher
expectations which affect the
amount of effort expended on
his behalf by the teacher, and
also affect his own image of
himself and his
abilities." Coard urged a
recruitment drive in order to
appoint more African-Caribbean
teachers to schools where
there are high numbers of
African-Caribbean pupils. He
said black history and culture
should be part of the
curriculum for all schools. He
called on black parents to
create nursery and
supplementary schools "in
order to support positive
racial identity and
self-confidence". He
warned black parents that they
must be in regular contact
with their children's schools.
"Ask questions and
challenge as necessary,"
he said. Plus ça change. Many things have
changed in the interim and too
little has been for the
better. First-generation West
Indians came to Britain
without much formal education,
but with a clear understanding
that successful schooling was
essential. They realised that
white structures would not,
through altruism, do them any
favours. But they have been
succeeded by a second
generation, too many of whom
have lost faith in the
defining power of education.
Some watch as their children
drift away from mainstream
life and into the alternative
- sometimes lucrative -
lifestyles of drugs and crime.
Others engage in a form of
passive parenting, comforted
by the illusion that the
playing field is level and
their boys will get by. It
isn't and, as the new report
shows, they don't. We hear the
continuing debate about what
is most to blame for the
plight of our black boys. Is
it peer pressure, negative
influences from music and the
media, the fact that 48% of
black boys have single-parent
households? Do we do it to
ourselves? Or is it the
authorities, racist schools,
culturally illiterate
teachers? Do they do it to us?
But the point is
moot, because either
explanation is going to
require us to redouble our
efforts. If the problem is us,
we are going to have to
rediscover the self-belief and
the coping strategies to guide
our children through what is
obviously still hostile
territory. We are going to
have to ask more of them and
ourselves. In many
communities, with their
mentoring schemes and
supplementary schools, that
process has begun. But the report makes
it clear that it will also
fall to us to challenge this
record of municipal failure
and to make that territory
less hostile. That means using
what clout and knowledge we
have to gain more black
teachers, headteachers,
governors and councillors, to
pressure our councils and MPs.
Community leaders
must play their part, but this
will stand or fall on the
efforts of ordinary parents
who stand up for their
children: ladies who doorstep
bureaucrats and refuse to go
away. ·
Hugh Muir writes for the
Guardian on London issues and
is a school governor |