SO, Summer: LET’S MOVE FOWARD!

So, after learning about my learning placement (Lfl ’19) … I’ve decided to account myself to my learning more and uptake in the sport of writing a daily blog over summer. It’s not aiming to be a massive task, but something educationally amusing. A cocktail of words a day doesn’t do anyone any harm! It’s about time that I moved out of my comfort zone of posting occasionally – and made it into a real habit. A serious habit. A commitment (without the engagement ring of course!)


The discussion with my placement tutor has been sitting like the logs of a fire in my mind. Ready to be lit up! Just waiting, waiting… and well now? On fire, are they. I’ve understood the weakness which needs a more stable anchor in my personality: I like order a little too much; I love structure; I thrive when someone tells me what to do. Musing back to the days of study leave, a plan was created and the ‘chore’ of revising was undertaken at certain times. My brain, you see, is a bit odd sometimes: it will daydream if it is given no set timing or pressure. Annoying: but maybe that’s why my right and lefts still need to be written on my hand! Yes. I do that. Put me in the nursery – okay! What will move me out of my cot and into a full-size bed (academically, of course) is realising that you cannot wait for academic work to come to you. Don’t stay looking for educational food. Sometimes, well most of the time, you have to search. What better than using my TeachTodos university blog as an opportunity to explore new options? Let’s try. And be ready for failure too. A daily lesson plan and Early Years material post per day (when Wifi is accessible): that’s what myself shall do. That’s the new adventure.

YET WHY A BLOG?

During SQA days (uh-huh, I do kind of miss the ‘oooo it’s almost exams’ pressure a little) my brain adored the fact that you were told exactly which sentences to memorise. Really…truly…sincerely…and that homework was daily. Learn this, look up that. This blog has previously helped me to venture out into the real academic world, at least, where the notion of memorising to pass is long gone. Thinking? Ahh, yes myself does have a voice. Yet, speaking up can come with a price – and all the anxiety, fear and ‘what ifs?’ However, I love blogging. I just love this activity. So love it. (And I’m not just typing it because it’s part of my course). Why? It pushes you to put the past in a different light and cycle on in the correct gear.

When I started running years ago, I started the art of processing emotions and thinking positively through embracing the present (whilst pounding the streets). I see sport as the ‘resilience’ builder. But, missing something was I! Indeed. And, thanks to teaching… this blog has come along. And, another merci to my discussion (on LfL ’19) I will use my spare time to reflect and develop lesson plans. Writing learning intentions and success criteria is a matter of practice. On that same point, quite urgent practice is required! Hurry up to the desk, Claire.

And so, let me start off this daily reflection habit (to-be!) by considering one of my colleague’s posts, Blaze Lambert, who wrote a lovely piece about daydreaming. She speaks of daydreaming as “increasing curiosity” and building the (ever so encouraged) growth-mindset. But, time is put in the drain? Or so, some of humanity believe. Lauren Child – author of the famously popular ‘Charlie and Lola’ – argues that daydreaming allows our children “to develop a sense of personality” however modern day society does, indeed, consider the act of letting your mind wander in a more negative light. Escape boredom in class? Daydream. Stressed by something? Just daydream. Worried? Daydream of the perfect existence. There does exist the rather dangerous mental health condition, maladaptive daydream, in which people are more occupied by their made-up thoughts than what is happening in front of their eyes. However, allowing kids to be creative and play imaginative games? That’s essentially daydreaming. Or I uphold that stance. That’s what our screen monsters need. Sorry for the slightly derogatory word there: I’m not any better myself when my iPhone gives me the heads up for wasting the day on Facebook!

After all, daydreaming allows us to take in our surrounding and relax. Take in the moment for what it is – and pause. Like a peaceful stream: thoughts come and leave as the current of our brain moves up and down.  Is it that harmful to let our five-year old students to be engrossed in their own thoughts every now and again? Don’t we do it as adults occasionally? (You know when you’re so hungry and imagine that gigantic margarita with a handful of cheese… instead of focusing….!) As long as: the work is done, boxes are satisfied with their ticks, and kids develop a vibrant and eager learning spirit… a dose of staring into the tranquil sky is happily on the cards in my classroom. Yes. Bring out the colouring pencils and let the students’ minds wonder. Adults are apparently prescribed it as healthcare solutions nowadays! I’d rather see a smile with their heads in the clouds than a face consumed by extreme artifical bright light.

Oh… and… here’s a photo to start you in the #daydreamingland!

Well, c’est la vie – and it’s bonne!

I thought I would write. Write quickly – not a long post, but a “hello Summer, goodbye Second Semester” reflection. Time has passed and placement is now over. Over and done with, unfortunately. But, well, that’s it. This year has flown into history (too quickly) and even though my Lfl ’19 placement did not challenge me significantly, I learnt from it…and worked with such a lovely group of people that I miss! I learnt from this life placement something simple: do always challenge yourself (not just in certain aspects of your life!).

Ironically, the events that life threw me two months before placement helped me to develop as a teacher. Because, sometimes things don’t turn out the way you expect – and that’s not always bad. A couple of months prior to placement, I injured my leg (oops) then ended up misjudging the distance of a car on a main road island crossing… and was hit… then went to jury duty the following day (because one of my hobbies taught me to #nevergiveup) and as of March this year, potentially have two witness court cases. I’m extremely lucky (rather a miracle) to still be here…!

It’s not the course of events I expected over these past months: and I’m glad for it (in a way). There are always positives in negative situations – and you have to find them (thanks sport for teaching me that).

After the car accident, I very, very, very narrowly escaped head injury however my leg was still playing tricks. I didn’t realise, until about four weeks later that my leg was fractured from a separate accident a few weeks prior to the motor because… compared to my sister’s operations, it seemed minor. Take a day at a time – and by some miracle, the leg healed up well (and I escaped the cast/boot because it was too late!) I missed sport then, and was so grateful to be given the ‘okay’ in February. I have realised that, in the future, I wish to work with primary kids in a sport environment (or even abroad): I’m not athletic but physical activity teaches you to keep moving forward. Press on when the tough drills through your reserves. Life requires you to #carefullyreflect BUT: look forward, hope to the future and be grateful for today. Being optimistic, maybe my fourth year research could be related to health and wellbeing in primary schools?

Anyhow… on a separate yet kind of related note.. this 2019 placement taught me to really be patient – and be grateful (but for the small things.) The little aspects count. Count massively.

People are writing this week about mental health and #thepowerofpositivity. Thinking with a smile is not something school teaches you. Life teaches you that (including my previous two placements). What I want to throw out into the teaching community is this next question: how can we implement ‘let’s think on the bright side’ when kids are institutionalised? For me, it’s about taking the tiny parts of school life and making them light up your face – you have to do that with everything. You see, even in A and E, there is something to smile and hope about. You can ask for a glove to be made into a smiley face (yes 😉). Without training your mind to look on the upside and push through difficulties, life will pass. Quickly. Time doesn’t stop ao: grab every opportunity, see to your loved ones and well, do life as you like to. There is no right way, wrong way… but as long as you learn from mistakes, you are sure to be a better practitioner.

As my Grandpa told me this year: “You cannot stop the hand from writing life!”

Let’s bubble about – right now!

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps… we should play. Why don’t we collect our pennies, count them up and link hands in a chain to the toy shop? Hand in hand, we trot (and try not gallop) to Smyths. Who doesn’t adore an hour in the den of all dens, shops of all shops? Some adults. But, for those delightful in simplicity, when the trip is over… Walt Disney does remind us that: “Adults are only kids grown up, anyway.” Anyway, he has a theory here. A theory that is much more than a theory: reality. That’s my (no laughter) Mickey Mouse take on it. I better go fetch my ears and put them on right now. Here we…. GO. Are you friends with Mary Poppins too?

Thought so. Let’s bubble on, now.

Pish posh to stern philosophical outlooks for two seconds. “Disney, as ever, is rather inspirational….!” I don’t believe that (and that’s only my view). I don’t see any person being fit to be called that word over another person as we all – in our own book – make a blank page have character. In teaching, you see one student who grapples with a concept grinning from one side of the rainbow to the other when the ‘oh-yeah’ moment gives them the educational gold. For another, the ‘graphite’ hexagons neatly fitting together in his or her brain might be significantly easier – and so “ooooo… that’s it” is emitted out of audible speech. That is why, well, for me inspiration must come from yourself. And, blatantly, your own progress is for no other single person to comment on. I remember starting University…concerned about achieving As… but well, for me it isn’t a priority. Trying matters. That’s part of the assembly of the toy, of an idea, of a book.

And, Walt Disney did fail many times. But he kept with his idea, his own little ‘toy.’ That’s why I rather believe we are all very much inclined to love his art – and undeniably, his story books. Books, you see, are an essential part of teacher education. From Vygotsky to Piaget, we learn. And learn. And, secretly try to figure out how we are developing ourselves as educators. But. Library days can only take you to a certain level of understanding. Lecturers constantly tell us of the imperativeness of writing about your strengths, your weakness and the movements forward. I agree; I do try to read factual works for enhancement: I do try to take an upwards approach to learning. However, some realisation has led me back to another square that I’m convinced is more of a triangle with another line to it. Not to another course is it bringing me, but to a moment of pause in my professional journey. After all, toy cars from Smyths aren’t intended to withstand several batters and bashes daily. We do need  ‘wait’ and ‘recapture’ time.

Time to separate the key words from the text, is it now. What for me is most crucial during this stage of my teacher education is figuring out the nuances to teaching – and classroom experience stories are all that is required. Remember when the nursery staff would come and give you a tip to be help make that tower look less like Italy’s (famous or infamous… I’m not entirely sure!) Pisa? Well, that is what I’m mentally making a note these days. Writing for assignments gives me the knowledge, but the breadth comes with the ‘you assist the child with the zip, yet leave them to attempt it if possible’ comments. That is why I am here. These pieces of advice mould me into a teacher who will (hopefully) as many of us wrote in our application… make a difference. Everyone, or so I wish to think, goes into the profession to bring out the best in others. By sharing a piece of humanity, of your own experiences, the heart in education beats on with the same rhythm.

The policies, lack of funding and health and safety – which we hear through the news more than word of mouth – puts on the rain too heavily sometimes. The career, of being a teacher, is being destroyed (sometimes) by what the child must achieve, must do and must obtain. Without stating the obvious, qualifications are extremely crucial but so is contact with others, so is PLAYTIME. And…health and safety is creating a gigantic wall…like that of Mexico.

After hearing that a former headteacher couldn’t obtain a swing for health and safety reasons, I desired to scribble : with frustration, with fury, with flaming anger. Sounds a tad over the top… but… well society needs to take a breather. Health and safety: uh-huh, the Law is imperative. But, what is wrong with a swing? For all you know, you could be hit on the road from misjudging a car speed or land awkwardly after a (as safe as possible) wall jump. Honestly. A swing moves up and down and let’s the child take control of their movement and emotions. Bare not, can I, to see a playground without such apparatus, without such necessities. Accidents happen. It’s life. And yes, we can avoid some but not every. single. One.

Play (and relaxed play) is what we need more of. Have a read of the Scottish Government’s 2013 Play Strategy: please do. To save you leaving to fetch it right now, here’s Scotland’s play vision: “A nation which values play as a life-enhancing daily experience for all our children and young people; in their homes, nurseries, schools and communities.” (Scottish Government, 2013, p. 2) Within merely opening the booklet, we see the phrase ‘LIFE-ENHANCING.’ Then, why is it that: our children are using i-Pads to clock up that screen time; our outdoors have no door; and our older ones play with the rubbers on their desks? I still play. Yes, I do. I am legally an adult, yet the amusement of following the yellow lines until they stop (in a quiet area!) or throwing up and down a ball will never leave moi. I do doodle: and well, at least it helps me with creative writing of some sort.

Early Years children become excited over miniscule parts of life – but that is what is crucial to the LOVE of teaching. That is why we must never treat play as only a reward. That home corner where you learned that hoovers make a noise: yes, it was really only fake plastic beads. But, imagination can become reality. That clean-up with my friends translates into ‘let’s tidy the classroom in P7!’ Play gives children hope, belief and an ‘I can do this’ attitude. Bring Smyths back to the classroom. Please do. Adults, it’s time to be silly but with a sprinkling of prudency (and sugar too!). We all have that inner-child that can be effectively controlled. I know we do.

Running 26.2 for One (VERY IMPORTANT) Realisation

The amateur runner has grabbed a rubber – and not another Cliff Bar. Never would I have thought that four hours and forty-six minutes (seconds don’t matter) of running would result in the action of erasing my social media account. Delete: my life on Instagram is gone. Some black hole online… you’ll find Claire Smith’s profile there. Just after a few mouse clicks, she no longer Instaexists – well, it’s a few presses more complicated. Oh sorry, let me pause the music (or perhaps not) of my words in your head. Hello, my name is Claire and I’m back on the blog – this time, as a second year. Studying what, you’re asking? I analyse stationary, more stationary and stickers. Not really! Apologies: me does like to (ever so occasionally) jazz up my sentences. Education is my field of study with the desire to become a lady in a lanyard (minus the posh aspect).

It’s the 10th of October. Yes, I know. Tell me off or put my name on the red face. A blog post really ought to have been uploaded by now (and my conscience did put on a lion mask and argue with me)! Oh my…the autumn leaf display is long gone; we are welcoming Mr. Pumpkin now! Time has PAST. Usually, my blog posts are a little more frequent, however the start of term seems to have just swept by like dust – vanished in a touch. Whether it was repeatedly angering the pavements (run, run, run) or ensuring my schedule was jam-packed, the e-Portfolio has been left to fend for itself. Too long and too lonely, it has been. A previous module, ‘Working Together,’ and several digital inputs during my initial year taught me that the arrow of progress requires you to go back down. Yes, go down to your seat – and write. So: here I am. Back again. Ready to tell you about an experience which taught me more than: my flesh, bones and heart are proud to be painted in blue and white with a ‘x’ pattern.

A few weeks ago, the Converse were traded for Brooks to quickly wander 26ish miles for CHAS (a children’s hospice charity in Scotland). The 2018 Loch Ness marathon, for sure, took a toll on my poor feet. The tiny, sign-up box covered all the after-pain and blisters: that aspect didn’t bother me. Although, legislation never confirmed that a relationship would be broken afterwards. Devastating times, these were. Running supposedly ‘improves’ your blood-pumping muscle, yet my heart was broken mine into several segments! How glad should we be that our organs aren’t made of china… Spending four hours (and exactly 46 minutes more) pounding resulted in a realisation, an epiphany about social media. Owls have never required it…so why have I constantly been feeding my time this perpetually hungry monster! Let’s say this: I’m glad that an extra half hour is slotted back into my day. More natural daylight can allow my pupils to dilate. Or, I can (also) glance over my books for a little longer.

I broke up with Instagram. Not sure if that was made clear. Thanks Loch Ness.
Are you an Instragrammer? Are you a face on the online book? Or, is Twitter sending your stream of thoughts flying? I love those websites – but, enough was enough. We all have different personalities; we all use social media to a different extent. However, my constant addiction to informing the world of my ideas was equating to #teninstastories a day. I’m aware that Facebook is much more common, so for those whose brains are searching for light in SPACE… Instagram stories are simply snapshots of your adventures in the world. Trip down Tesco’s stationary isle: imperative to inform my teaching pals about the Sharpie deal! Met a friend for coffee: aesthetical mug must be shared. Quickly wandering around a loch: better make everyone thirsty to visit Scotland. Share, share, shared my life. I guess… you could have easily given me the label of a ‘social media’ addict. And, I no longer needed that.

The marathon was rather long and… like anything that is long… you have time to contemplate. Running does count as your sixty minutes of exercise of day – as reminded by the NHS – but it also allows me to plan ahead (and not merely the route home). For this reason, my phone is left indoors to stay cosy and rest. Yes, material objects do need cared for! On the other hand, some marathon enthusiasts (because they kept grinning) went to the extent of taking a photo to share – or even Facetiming to inform that: “Mummy is doing fine but will not win the race.” What a laugh! Indeed… the pain in my feet eased upon my ears picking up on such a comment! But, such words also reminded me: Instagram was my shadow during the day. If I can run 26 miles free of music or a device, I ought to make it through daylight without this clutch.

Then came the recovery. After the run, I took the moment to pause and reflect – and not just because the muscles demanded some time off. Lectures commenced the following day, so it was only natural to consider things related to teaching. Oh, I did consider whether I could swap my train (to the super-speed one in Hunger Games) to save arriving back just before teaching began. Fiction will never be fact, however. The worry that our children are missing out on a real childhood… due to a (potentially poisoning) digital age… is of concern to me. Blisters heal, but a stolen 18 years (okay, less than that!) leaves permeant scars. And, can we recover from a lost childhood? Communication, it’s a face- to face matter.

What if our toddlers fasten their ‘digital shoes’ and never grow out of playing on Mummy’s Ipad? That may be hypothetical, but my brain cells fizzle at the prospect of it soon being a plain and harsh truth. A report – sent out to our Primary Teaching cohort – came back into the less dusty part of my cerebrum and confirmed my thoughts. Sometimes social media traps you: The Life in Likes 2018 report by the Children’s Commissioner wrote of the digital platforms as being advantage for holding “fun conversations” with friends yet many children felt forced to remain online… even if they desired to fiddle with their toys. The same emotion expressed as me earlier: helpless. The bubble of social media is rather comforting. I accept that. Nonetheless, there comes a time when you must see the real world for what it is. For me, the marathon was the needle in the balloon. Social media was my superglue. We all know how powerful that chemical is: no wonder Prit Stick occupies the shelf!

So, what am I saying? I am saying that as an educator, it is essential that we drill into the students’ heads the impact of too much social media usage. A recent campaign called the ‘Digital 5 A Day’ is a carbon-copy of our infamous fruit and vegetable diet suggestion – and it certainly of interest. It suggests five different points to help us take advantage of the networking sites (and our phones). Although munching through five apples a day will likely spike up your glucose-chart, it certainly is healthier than letting your digestive proteins work through the meat of McNuggets. (P.S. Everyone desires to change ‘five-day’ to every second one!) Anyway, back to squirting more info for you: ketchup (i.e. constant gadget usage) can also be applied to the computer – but such actions must mean an acting degree and job as a ‘toddler’ is on your CV. Emotional issues can result if we indulge beyond sensible boundaries, as you will soon read about! Overusing social media, like anything, can cause considerable issues – as I’ve discovered myself. Balance is key. Sorry, that’s actually an ‘overused’ statement. Oh no, better be back at the desk to find more linguistic devices. Let me turn off my phone first.

Having no technology around me was beautiful (even more bonnie than the hills of the Highlands). Although, life in the cobbled streets of fundee (deliberate mistake!) requires more than a horse and carriage. Loch Lomond, without my mobile, was just as AMUSING as life in Dundee with a block that receives signals. In the classroom, the same sort of situation is happening. One day there may be a ‘no phone’ fundraiser – and happiness cannot be measured. Yet, rules mean that any more than 24 hours without devices… and our human rights have been breached. This ‘logic’ even applies to the kids, the people who ought to p.l.a.y. Infants don’t need to learn how to type ‘play’ quickly on a keyboard! Despite the SPR wanting teachers to “include a variety of media” – hint, hint… digital, that is – in the lessons, being given a proper lanyard will only make me want to do the opposite. Arrogant: that adjective may fit me…oops. It’s merely that evidence implies our children are needing more than a ‘time-out’ from digital devices.

Social media is a problem: common knowledge, that is – so I hope your thumbs are up. What we need to consider is the seed that was responsible for the weeds (and time in the bin). Hands down…with or without gardening gloves on…I declare the mobile phone to be accountable. Evidence agrees. Zaheem (2014) writes of scientists finding detrimental health effects – that includes changes in brain activity, reaction times, and sleep patterns – being associated with mobile phone usage. Thinking reflectively, there are many times in which my Snapchat Bitmoji will have taken longer gain zzzs next to its face – and my human productivity level will have certainly decreased as the sun rose again! Lack of sleep (from mobile phone usage) is a short-term consequence, however. Take the long-term consequence, that being poorer academic performance and emotional regulation, and the minefield has become substantially greater. Kuznekoff, J. and Titsworth, S. (2013) carried out an interesting study which highlights the aforementioned point. During a video lecture, the students who did not have access to a digital device took in 62 percent more information than their counterpoints. An average higher grade (by one and a half) was also achieved by the group without technology at hand. Soul-destroying: an over-reliance to our phones is essentially lowering our chances in life. A phone bucket can surely sit in a locked-away cupboard with an opening and closing time of THE SCHOOL BELL. It’s not torture, this idea: having a pet taught me something about cruelty being kind. Or, so I learnt.

A famous figure who helps push forward the devices to host the (sometimes) parasite of social media pats my back. Interestingly, Tim Cook (now head of Apple) remarked of not wanting his nephew to have a social media account. Could this perhaps be a result studies warning us of the lack of self-esteem as well as identity-crisis that children are facing? Maybe so. According to Ahmad, Soomro and Jan (2017) there is a linear relationship between increased time on Facebook and a lower self-esteem. If there was an emoji button on scientific studies, I’d put the tear-faced one next to the following finding in a social media study by Burrow and Rainone (2017): the number of likes for your profile picture partly determines how positively you think of yourself. Ssh…shh…shoking. I just want my students (potentially our future teachers) to let themselves thrive from experiences – and not the number of likes. And, does your opinion match with mine?

Call me ‘outdated’ or a crazy runner that is trying to teach: but, push yourself to live without a phone and you’ll (maybe) see why. Running the marathon taught me more about social media than the constant newsfeed. Why? First-hand experiences always wins. VisitScotland and Google if you ought to learn more: I better go for a walk. Another adventure may be calling, but it won’t be running through the wheat fields of Instagram. Nah. As the Scots say, “Naw, thank ye.”

After all I’ve said, no photos of the run should appear on this blog … except this is a rare find! After all, how often does Nessie come out from her den?                                                                       After all, there is no ‘like’ this post self-esteem candy!


Blog Post References (Harvard Style)

Ahmad, N., Soomro, A.S. and Jan, M. (2017) ‘Impact of Social Media on Self-Esteem’, European Scientific Journal, 13(23), pp. 329-341. doi: 10.19044/esj.2017.v13n23p329

Burrow, A. L., & Rainone, N. (2017). ‘How many likes did I get?: Purpose moderates links between positive social media feedback and self-esteem.’ Journal of Experimental Social Psychology, 69, 232-236. doi: 10.1016/j.jesp.2016.09.005

Gibbs, S. (2008) Apple’s Tim Cook: ‘I don’t want my nephew on a social network.’ Available at: https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2018/jan/19/tim-cook-i-dont-want-my-nephew-on-a-social-network (Accessed: 4 October 2018)

Kuznekoff, J. and Titsworth, S. (2013) ‘The Impact of Mobile Phone Usage on Student Learning’, Communication Education, 62(3), pp. 233-252. doi: 10.1080/03634523.2013.767917.

Naheem, Z. (2014) ‘Health risks associated with mobile phone use’, International Journal of Health Sciences, 8(4), pp. 5-6. Available at: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4350886/

Kefi for the Kids

Health and Wellbeing: This blog post is written as a reflection on a lecture about keeping our students active, fit and healthy.


Diet? What’s that word? Remind me again.

Children should never hear those four letters blended together in the perimeters of a classroom – unless it’s for The Times National Spelling Bee (for tiny-tots, surely!) Eating sensibly ought to replace the commonplace calorie counting. However, healthy eating is no mean feat when the processed-food list is growing at an unprecedented rate since the boycott of rationing. The detrimental impact of sugar, not just on our dental health, but attention span has been flagged to us many times. This tiny, little granule is drilling cavities in our systems, yet none of us appear to have speed-dialled 9-9-9. No gnawing aches, it seems to be.

If we were to really stretch our brains outside their plasterboard skulls, we could start regarding this addictive molecule as one of sand’s long-lost cousins. Transport yourself back to the afternoons when the sun invited you to the beach, the hub of sandcastle construction. Oh, happy days. Pure bliss. The joinery involved in creating bucket ‘masterpieces’ almost edged me on to apply for an apprenticeship in the trade profession! CVs (of well-thought out, genius scribbles) were devastatingly considered Japanese to any Scotsman. Plan: failed. However, experience sharpened my chisel (again.) Sand wasn’t that amusing when the remainder of your day was occupied by exterminating those grains tickling your toes, almost like ice pleasures in ‘burning’ dogs’ paws. Sugar acts as its double. This sweet rush we seek (as if it’s enlightenment) is a local anaesthetic. Numbs out surface thoughts in your mind, it does. That’s until the mighty grains are ‘resuscitated’… and our decrepit bodies are left scrambling to clear up the mess. Build a sand-castle whenever sugar cuts your line of thought short. Why? It magnificently magnifies the dots, the dots of those life-changing connections. These simple links could transform your final ‘picture’.

Since everyone concludes that life is better in colour, we would be very wise ‘owls’ to clean our palettes of the blacks and whites. The nation doesn’t have to be spotless, nevertheless. For most people, a radical food overhaul would pull the bristles out of their only brush – and there puts an end to their ‘painting’ too. The aim of altering our food consumption habits is also comparable to an attempt in recreating the Mona Lisa, for some. Simplicity is golden. Changes to our plates should be gradual because many top figures have proven that this is how success operates. So, where do we start – and who with? Babies, toddlers, children, teenagers, the twenty-dreamers, thirty-doers, middle-aged and elderly… what a mouthful: they all need educating. Today.

Scientific experts from ‘The Sugar Crash’ documentary alluded to the reality that what we put on our forks as children in fact is cut by our knifes as adults. Slightly scarily, grown-ups exert as much influence on food-intake as that of the children themselves. These findings have undoubtedly provoked me to reconsider my approach in teaching my (soon-to-be) students about health eating. Delivering a series of lessons in which pupils “understand that [their] body needs energy to function and that this comes from the food [they] eat” will rarely result in a desirable outcome if their guardians don’t appreciate this too (based on the CfE E & O HWB 1-27a). A whole school approach sets the scaffolding for implementing positives adjustments. To lay the bricks requires the cement of an equally encouraging home situation. Guarantees for that are limited, especially considering the probability of receiving all the class’ permission slips back the next day is seldom above zero. A universal learning intention sounds like the payment to such a bill; though no-one ever pays with the same change. It’s futile reinforcing knowledge to guardians with impeccable lifestyles (they’re probably wearing invisible ear muffs) yet others may delight in advice and support. Differentiation – in the content and our teaching-style – is the staple in this scutter of a Health and Wellbeing improvement ‘recipe.’

The ingredients: there are many. Teachers, alongside numerous other professionals, are the aliments that could boil together to make a ‘broth’ – without too many ideas spoiling it, of course! Sourcing the method will only be feasible by taking advantage of social media. Those (generally) time-sucking online platforms can be invaluable. Tweeting, hooting and whoo-ing about effective health approaches would help put our hidden owls to bed earlier! Many minutes can fly away into those vast black holes if we constantly ignore other people’s suggestions. My Google tiger had recently built up quite an appetite, so to speak. R became synonymous with ravenous. A pounce upon Search equated to the human thrill of passing Go in Monopoly. In fact, it’s outrageous that I wasn’t more elated. Two-hundred (and counting) free ideas are teachers’ version of winning a million pounds. I would estimate that as being fourth-fifths more joyful than collecting your two-hundred pounds. (Kids, fractions aren’t exclusively for dishing up Dominos.)

The endorphins that waltz around our brains are of paramount importance to our wellbeing too. After firing up those muscle fibres, we are left in a calm-state (no, not from subsequently feeling less guilty about that cheese-dripping margherita pizza last night.) Physical education is a subject that some teachers majorly focus on -or hate. Just as we have zoomed in on the crumbs lying on our plate, teachers are collaborating on ways to motivate pupils to engage in exercise daily. The British Heart Foundation published a report in 2015 with the following recommendation:

“All children and young people should engage in moderate to vigorous intensity physical activity for at least 60 minutes and up to several hours every day.” (The British Heart Foundation, 2015.)

Extensive. Effort. Demanded. But, so does: assessing; marking; and planning. Telling a child to run around the lush playing fields for an hour could welcome many sneers and scowls; pretend they’re smiles! All students, at some point, squealed and screamed (with excitement) in the playground as their ‘tigs’ became tags. Why has it reached the stage that we never question our reluctant students? Carefully converse with any pupil only exercising their finger limbs exhaustively. Tread with caution, however, as this is not small talk. I know. Those sitting-out, or ‘resting benches could have easily moulded to me. Gyms didn’t support radiators, however. (Totalling up the number of sports lessons that little me wasted would give rise to a cracker of a statistics lesson.) Back then, the notion of participating in sports drove me mad; I was as wound up as marathon runner with a pulled hamstring. How the days have turned… my calendar boxes are bursting with running events. Blame it on Carol Dweck.

Low outputs rise inputs: no exercise, more hunger. The United Kingdom needs to keep moving – in the right direction (and closer to Europe, preferably!) Sugar is travelling too close to home; it’s time we lock our doors for good. That would be the best pest control when any diet tries to intrude. Exercise and proper nutrition are as integral as attending school. In my practice, kids will leave the classroom suitably fatigued. Guardians, parents and grand-parents should see kids’ eyes sparkling with that zest for life. That kefi.  But when it’s bed-time, it’s bed-time! Curling up with the duvet after a day of commendable choices is the ribbon to the medal. Reward yourself with a run in the morning; the chocolate bars can practice some patience.


Kefi: This is a Greek word with no direct translation (in English). It is essentially the ability to persevere through the storm and see the all-anticipated rainbow. Someone who is upbeat and has a positive outlook in life could be referred to as having that kefiI haven’t actually travelled to Greece, but learnt this word from reading ‘To the Island’ by Meaghan Delahunt.


Due acknowledgments for this blog post:

 

Rudolph, I’ve got a letter for you (and Santa too, of course)!

Before you immerse yourself in these words for a few minutes, you will be all the wiser from knowing that this blog post is my Christmas Eve letter to Santa (and Rudolph). Don’t worry, I’m old enough to realise that Santa is a fictional character, but the magic can still exist- right?! Merry Christmas for 2018! Have a lovely time (and be sure to save some mince pies for our jolly old fellow, Mr. Claus.)


Dear Rudolph,

Even though your nose resembles blinding scarlet laser pens, my heart still bursts with love for you. Love is a thrown-away word nowadays but Rudolph, I am not prancing around here. Your co-worker, Cupid, would forecast that we’re never been destined for a relationship- and I presume the stars shine in that direction too. However, my dear friend, my attraction to you continues to live on, unlike romantic relationships which are as delicate as the intricacy of snowflakes. Your festive vibes encapsulate me from some of humanity’s ill spirits. It is your story, the true lived tale of bullying, that puts you on the highest pedestal for me – me, and the teaching community at large.

Vital information has just whizzed around the circuits of my brain… these words… must be of very little value to you. That’s unless I’m mistaken, and reindeers secretly have a Google Translate to decipher our human-talk by. Santa may be able to lend you a hand with that one afterwards but I’m afraid the rest of this letter will be addressed to your friendly, red-hat, long-bearded master. Don’t stomp your hooves until the snow flings in every direction with fury; blame my people’s government for their failure in bringing up a multi (animal) lingual nation. Now then, pass this letter over to Mr. Claus if you may. (Your Tesco’s Finest carrot is already at my fire-place- as ever, royalty deserves nothing less.)

Ho, ho, ho, Santa: sorry to eat into your precious time although this letter will cheer you up just as a bucket-load of mince pies do. It is with ounces of delight that I can assist you with your naughty and nice lists this year: Rudolph, your ‘best-man,’ deserves a permanent (not fixed or temporary) post in your good books. The upmarket, front-row position on your sleigh may comfort his ego, but remember it is imperative that we tingle your companion’s heart strings. Put an end to your omniscient persona, Santa, and give my fellow the right recognition. Undoubtedly, you treat every single one of your reindeers the same – it’s standard practice – yet your heart must ache ever so more upon musing of the troubles of his past. Must I (painfully) recall those ‘oh so fun’ games when your (now) sleigh captain was belittled like six-foot ‘monsters’ boss around three- feet elves? No, I guessed not. Rant over: it’s time to harmoniously sing his praises – call for the choir… that’s if the eminent Michael Bublé is on strike.

Hold on a second- apologies are well and truly due. Now my fast and furious (seventy-mile per hour) hurricane attitude has settled to a breezy blizzard, I can write with sense – and not blanket everything in lethal, icy remarks. My thoughts led to me to a slippery slope when I addressed you quite forcefully in the previous paragraph, however I now am admitting to my wrongdoings. It’s just thinking of such an empathetic person like you – who is most comparable to the Christmas Big Friendly Giant – raises the hairs on my goose bumps to the point you’d think they meticulously practised yoga every day of their life. That’s not an understatement, believe me. Whilst on the topic of forgiveness, it’s fitting to mention that I’m partaking in the joys of greeting children queuing to meet you. You may not have hired me in Lapland (Claire calls for a man-size box of tissues) but Aberdeen needs me. ‘Elfing’ is truly a privilege that you have endowed me with; I can only but seize the chance to share my adoration for Rudolph and… take an #elfie.

Hurry on the days when society deems it acceptable, presentable and respectable to attire joker hats with jingle bells and slipper-soft shoes!

I’ve deviated off on a tangent again, Santa. Let’s toast our glasses to the fact I’m not your GPS navigation… swiftly back on track, if we may. Please do me of the honour of allowing myself to properly explain my feelings towards your wingman. Rudolph, he’s a strong piece of meat: I’m not a vegetarian, but equally I’d never even consume a slither of reindeer-meat. That’s a high-court crime, especially for someone who is meant to be Rudolph’s guardian! With hefty muscles- peaked to perfection for his annual present-delivery endurance marathon- comes determination, and that is what we need to install in our children. Instant gratification is as common as plastic money notes. Should we ever wonder why our kids are ‘besties’ with sheets of illuminated-glass? In with the old Tamagotchi; out with the new Siri. (Oh, that’s a deliberate ‘mistake’ in my phrasing.)

Mental stamina is not developed enough amongst the majority of our young people these modern days. Sir, with your magical work, we could help share the story of Rudolph’s battles and give our students a lecture about the grit that they all so need to carry with them throughout their lives. Wish lists of happiness feeders are driving you out of pocket – and the elves…well, their array of talents are spectacularly wasted with the infinitely increasing output of gadgets ongoing. As a student teacher – and part-time Lapland aspiring elf- I’d hope it wouldn’t be deemed ‘immature’ and too out of place for me to remark that parents must continue bringing up their children with time-limits on their gadget usage. Despite Rudolph being in a turmoil of teasing from his red nose, he danced and pranced through the traditional party games – and won over every cell beating in your unmeasurable heart. Our cherished fluffy Christmas ‘horse’ flies around with the magic of (almost) everlasting happiness, all whilst demonstrating to our young ones that being unique is as special and worthy as the rare pennies living on the ground. He’s a man…with just a slightly alternative twig-like hairstyle. A man needs no gadgets; the classic board games are the ultimate deal (if you’re also not forgetting about the gel for anything like antler-hair of course!)

Dear me… my inner-elf has outshone itself again. These festive characters really like to bounce around to the sound of their jingle bells (and blether away until their cheeks inflate like mini red-balloons). Aren’t elves just secretly human versions of Rudolph? Seriously speaking, that’s my Christmas wish for you, Santa. Give me the chance to be an elf from Monday to Sunday. (Yes, I’m enrolling for the atypical seven-day job- uh huh, not the nine-to-five Monday to Friday.) If I’m blessed with my elf-tunic and plane tickets to Lapland, I’ll know my teaching will improve vastly. My students will learn the key to healthy happiness- and maybe the odd few will become your minions too (or as English-lovers joke, your subordinate-clauses). It’s a wicked myth that people fall to the trick of believing that you are born as an elf: W.Huittt and J.Hummell (1999) are behaviour theorists who would one-hundred percent support elf-school as they define learning as “the relatively permanent change in behaviour brought about as a result of experience or practice.” We can all be elves, can’t we?

I guess you’ll reveal the truth tomorrow, Santa.

That’s me for Christmas 2017,

Lots of love from Claire Xx (The 18-year old girl who should really be an elf, especially since she has left out your all-time favourite of a beer and a mince pie!)


This PowerPoint (which is available online) was of assistance to me in the writing of this blog post. The quote by W.Huitt and J.Hummel (1999) is found on the second slide.

 

Ciao, adios, we’re done.

(Before reading, please be aware that this post strongly discusses my views on western feminism. All views are my own- I completely appreciate if you don’t support them.)

Boys,I could tell you that I love being a female. I could boast day and night to the apparently ‘strong’ species that you are, exclaiming that being part of the girls’ club is the best decision of my life. I could shout, using the loudest of all (near) deafening megaphones, that “nothing else is -or will ever be- comparable to our flower-power, pink-loving gang.” Yet, I won’t. I pinkie-promise on that. Sorry radical feminists… I feel it’s time to initiate some practice of self-control. For the first time in forever, my willpower is required for something other than resisting a beloved Frozen movie night; it’s control myself maturely time! Resorting to the simple wonders of scribbling words on a page is all that’s needed to push forward my argument surrounding patriarchy. Even though I could be such a forceful feminist right now, my wisdom has concluded that it’s best to stay far clear of the police and their ASBOs for noise disruption. Instead, I’ll make my own jam on feminism and gender right here. Listen up, friends: we’re in for a discordant ‘tune’ of pinks and blues.

You’ve heard it everywhere: boys are better than girls. It’s surreptitiously implied wherever you go. I’m often left wondering if there’s a little gender ghost constantly chasing after us girls; we can never quite shake off the feeling of inferiority in this male-dominated society. From tops to toys, our retail markets are despairingly flooded by patriarchal merchandise. E-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g on the shelf is designed with slogans set to boost the male’s (already) sky-high ego: “She can soak in the beauty of planet Earth; he can bask in the glory of conquering it.” How ridiculous! Come on- let’s call a boycott on all this tragic use of English! Our Sir William Shakespeare would be absolutely mortified of our word-choice. I’m putting BOTH feet (and hands) down on this one –  not only for his sake. These female-pitying phrases no longer penetrate right through to my core. I’m a solid, lava rock. That said, my humanly instincts still crave to protect every other human from this futile battle (regardless of gender).

British girls and boys, don’t you realise how time-zapping, energy-depleting this gender war is? Gender is only a socially-constructed concept (that’s biological sex minus the scientific evidence.) So… please, please, please halt with this nonsense: once our nation frees itself of these masculine and feminine stereotypes, we can work on the actual mess. Welcome to the mess abroad in which girls endure bloodshed whilst fighting for their basic UN rights- and it’s all because of men. Some of us are so mollycoddled that the word ‘gratitude’ lives in our thesaurus rather than remaining in our everyday vocabulary. (I’m addressing my girls here.)  We are extremely privileged to have an entirely free education – free of expense, free of judgement, free of violence. You name it: it’s all free.  Still, my whining British girls have the nerve to send snapchats in precious class-time. Western feminists, we have to put on our big boots and drastically change our outlook: here’s why.

Look, just look at Malala Yousafzai’s work. A girl, shot for learning her ABCs, is currently the leading figure in the global campaign that battles for girls to have a safe, liberal education- all whilst pursuing further education herself. Inspiring, Malala is. Honest, she is. A strong girl, she is.  She doesn’t contradict herself; she is deserving feminist. Remember the days when you had two gold stars and that so magical (but dreaded) wish in primary school- well those days still exist. Indeed, they do. Can I wish for every single girl in my country to seriously appreciate their education? Can my wish be taken with a whole pinch of chilli powder- and not the simple, old salt? I want a girl-gang of ‘Malalas’ (just if clones were legally allowed…!)

Guess what? My mind already knows the next question that you are desperately wanting to throw at me. (Please note though that I’m a student-teacher, not a psychic.) “Are you really a feminist Claire, and what does gender mean in your world?” curiously considers many of my readers. That’s the million-pound question. This is the billion-pound answer: I’m the feminist, that despites acknowledging British gender-discrimination, feels a stronger pull to support feminist-movements overseas. Girls there need me… not for a pay rise, but for life rights. Moving rather swiftly on to gender (to avoid further distressing some readers) I believe that we should still have the ‘framework’ of gender in our society. However, a framework doesn’t give rise to any sort of (organised) discrimination by any means. A girl should be nurtured as boy is nourished …and vice-versa. We are all free to have a religion, so why can’t we choose our gender without it being forced upon us?

You’ll thankfully find that my next statement provides a concise summary of my thoughts. Concepts like gender-neutral classrooms are our exit out of this vicious circle. I’m not trying to be sarcastic, but honestly these ideas are worth it. They would teach society’s future girls that they don’t have to dress up as hulk and boys, you can be pretty (or handsome!) in pink. Any transphobic creature could pin me to a post in disagreement – and I’d still stay firm on my stance. Gender must not be such a rigid, controlling term: if we all loosened up and disregarded masculine and feminine stereotypes, there would be no need for feminism. Consequently, we wouldn’t give any regard to the multitude of preconceived gender attributes which lead to many issues today. What’s the action plan then? I’ll tell you, tell you outright. Move out of your comfort zone, broaden your horizons and extend your view. Our world is a gargantuan (but also small) place and we cannot, must not AND will not create any more barriers. I’m up for truly uniting girls and boys; we are all one happy family…I hope.

The time has come. I’ve had it with this British feminism. I’ve handed in my notice to the girls’ club. We are too Eurocentric for my liking. Neither am I joining the boys although. I’ll ride it solo: solo until you decide to join me too. Goodbye girls, it’s been an interesting ride.

Ciao, adios, we’re done.


If you are dying to know, the text-colours were deliberately changed- boys being pink and girls with the blue. What was your initial reaction upon seeing this? I believe it’s so easy to think of ourselves as being open-minded. From personal experience, I can tell you how quickly I used to make assumptions based on biological sex. If you automatically questioned the colour difference, I can understand why. It’s maybe a sign that you are more judgemental than you consider yourself to be. Don’t panic if that’s the case… it’s best that we find out this information sooner than later!


Due acknowledgments for this blog post:

  • The University of Dundee for their lectures on the topics of gender, feminism and patriarchy;
  • Malala Yousafzai’s documentary on her experiences;
  • Anne-Marie’s song (inspiration taken from the title/main lyrics).

 

Po-Value-rty and Education

Our lives are constantly changing – and so must our values. It’s not something I’ve ever really stopped to ponder about until now. I know I am only eighteen – and that according to society, I should be living up my youth- but reaching the age of majority has added a new dimension of seriousness. As a child, your values are primarily based upon the people dearest to you. Until you break away from your childhood support network, you can never properly live by your own moral principles. That said, after merely a month of self-sufficiency (and seeing Fairy Liquid bubbles in my dreams) l headed back to the land of familiarity: home.

Home may only have four letters to its name, however its significance runs oceans deep. (Sorry, I detest being ‘cringy’ but in this instance, I deem it acceptable.) Whilst returning to family is an excuse for bringing out the good-old box of Celebrations, it’s also the only time in daylight where I become ridiculously nostalgic. Before you ask, I’m a tad ashamed to admit that! Nevertheless, this meaningful reflection led me to consider the impact my parents have had on my education.

Right from birth, my parents did their upmost to support my academic and social development. No joke, my first real memory (apart from fearing dress up characters) was learning how to draw a triangle. I’m genuinely sorry this is maybe not the stereotypical “let’s play with Barbie” memory you were secretly hoping for, however it does hold some points of interest. In nursery, we were assigned homework to practise drawing triangles -but there’s a catch… without rulers. What a challenge, to say the least. (Thinking back, rulers were of great health and safety hazard to three-year old Claire.) Despite the endless words of wisdom from Mum and Dad, the artist within me resigned. Drawing the tip of the triangle was not happening any day soon, certainly not until I gained rights for ruler usage. Anyway, this tiny example clarifies a much greater point: a lack of resources complicates the simplest of tasks. Unconditional support will take you to the start line, but without the right resources you will never finish the race.

As teachers, many of us will feel compelled to buy disadvantaged students the required resources: this urge, I warn you, must never translate into what you classify as ‘a good deed.’ It’s far from a sweet habit; it is simply creating an even larger divide in society. Britain does not need to live up to the great (pitying) heights of Trump’s wall – honestly. On a more serious note, the widespread issue of poverty is something all educational professionals desire to tackle. From 2015-2016, “26 per cent of children in Scotland were living in relative poverty.” Now, that figure embarrasses me on many levels. We must remember in all our poverty-reducing efforts that money is not the rocket power. It never will be: only love can fuel a notable change. You may think that I’m crazy saying that, however certain experiences have highlighted to me just how much our society needs to reconsider its core values. The standard “money solves all problems” attitude needs to be exchanged for a more heartfelt outlook.

Funnily enough, my first-ever university seminar managed to summarise all of that…in merely an hour.During the sixty-minutes in the classroom, our tutor demonstrated to us why our professional occupation can never be thought of as ‘charity work.’ He also made a teenager ever so thankful for her parents’ teachings! Through a simple, peer-learning art task (in which resources were unevenly distributed between the groups) the importance of having a solid set of values hit home. My family have always steered me away from materialism and excessive individualism: love, respect and being true to yourself were what they deemed (and still do) as being crucial to success. (My parents, I agree with you wholeheartedly.) When it came to the end of the task, the groups who lacked in resources actually came out on top. Undoubtedly, they acknowledged their situation of poverty, yet they didn’t let inequality rule them. Doesn’t that just show us something? Teachers need to stop ruling out of their pockets – and reach out from their heart.

As much as one may want to run away from all of these discussions, it is imperative that we pause in our hectic schedules to reflect on our values. I know we, primary teachers, all have an inner-child within us, so let’s think of it in this way: reconsider your own standards of judgement like kids ideally follow The Green Cross Code. Think about your existing values. Stop right before you decide to change anything. Look around and see how other teachers conduct themselves. Listen to the advice of those who have dealt with poverty first-hand. Okay, I’d admit it takes time. Yes, reconsidering our values will never solve the infamous educational debate on equity vs. equality. However, it’s for sure the first steps in beating poverty – without money. I’ll leave you (and close this half parental appreciation post) with the wise words of Jackson, Boostrom and Hansen (1993):

“Values are reflected in what teachers choose to permit or encourage in the classroom and in the way they respond to children’s contributions to learning, and children learn values from such responses.”

Due acknowledgements for this blog post:

Shirts, Ties and Blazers: It’s all gone too far…

Shirts, ties and blazers: the outfit staples that we all longed to put behind us as teenagers. School uniform was simply Satin in disguise to any budding fashionista. I can’t remember being overly concerned about the outfit’s fashion value, however the comfort aspect of top-button shirts did raise many concerns. You are probably wondering so far as to what great academic interest school uniform has right now? Why am I writing about this? Shouldn’t education professionals be far more concerned about fighting the supreme court to legally ban fidget spinners? Sadly not- welcome to the recent case of the school exclusion from wearing “the wrong black brogue-like” shoes.

As much as we can joke about school-uniform issues, there is a real sociological issue regarding the extreme lengths some teachers take just to maintain uniform standards. I have decided to write this blog post upon reading that twenty-pupils (yes, a big fat two and zero) were sent home on the first day at Hartsdown Academy thanks to their ‘ill’ choice of uniform. It becomes even worse when you find out the next two days at this school consisted of a police intervention and fifty-more pupils missing out on precious educational time due to the same ‘issue’ with uniforms. Uniform may not be a legal requirement for schools, but “98%… in 2007” opted for it. I always felt a sense of pride as I dashed out of my house with my blazer on. I wasn’t merely a girl satisfying uniform requirements; I was a pupil who was part of my school community. It is abhorrent to think that some students in the twenty-first century are made to feel so unwelcome. School is meant to be a place of love, laughter and learning – not some institution following a Victorian-style regime.

Having a uniform policy can help foster authority, however we must remember that respect can be destroyed in only a few words. British children are growing up in a world centered around commercialism- your societal value equates to your net worth e.g. whether or not you have the  latest iPhone with face-recognition. As educational professionals, our job is to ensure that children enter the workplace with the correct moral values. It is imperative that our pupils understand that your success in life will never solely depend on your income. The head teacher of Hartsdown Academy demonstrates the completely wrong disciplinary approach. Uniform can be costly (as many of us know);  sending someone home for the style of their shoes is teaching pupils all the wrong messages. It’s also… shattering their self-confidence, trust and stifling their creativity. This head teacher clearly forgot everything he had learnt about SHANARRI!

Other organisations aren’t so uptight about uniforms, so why should schools be so concerned? The other day at Rainbows, I was restored with faith. For those of you who joined the opposing team of Cubs (or did neither) Rainbows are typically seen attired in red clothing. A little surprisingly, some of the girls decided to go against the grain and wear the purple version of the uniform. The leaders embraced this fully because it gives each of the girls a personal choice. In the end, freedom is what we look forward to. After a day of work, we are free to go home and see family. In relationships, we are free to choose our friends. In life, we are free to choose which opportunities we embrace. Is it really asking too much to let children add a little personal touch to their own uniform?

To put it simply, the case of Hartsdown Academy frustrated me. It reminded me of how backwards our nation is in relation to our moral values – not technology, of course! Pupils should never be sent home for uniform issues. There are children on the same planet fighting for a pencil and paper. We don’t deserve the title of a ‘developing country’ if we are acting like this. I would like anyone who strongly believes in excluding children for uniform issues to book a plane ticket across the ocean… that would give them a real wake up call.

The following sites were used in the writing of this blog post:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-kent-37298505  (Last Accessed: 29/09/17) This is the article on Hartsdown Academy’s uniform row, from which the inspiration for writing this blog post came from.

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/education/the-politics-of-the-school-uniform-2346367.html (Last Accessed: 29/09/17)

https://www.gov.uk/government/uploads/system/uploads/attachment_data/file/514978/School_Uniform_Guidance.pdf  (Last Accessed: 29/09/17)