As a pupil, my first school, set in a remote glen in southern Scotland, comprised 11 children in one classroom, aged 4-11, and one teacher. We all learned together at mixed-age tables and played together at breaktime. When I was 12, we moved to the United States and the junior high school I was sent to had 3,000 pupils, all aged 12-14 - I needed a map to find my way round.

I was completely overwhelmed, both by subject choice and the sheer number of pupils, so my parents soon found me a smaller school nearer to where we lived. A shock to my system, this experience made me realise the value of small-school education in nurturing children and allowing them to find their feet at their own pace, and in their own way.

In our rural areas, small schools are constantly under threat of closure and amalgamation with larger schools, which are seen to offer more choice and social diversity. In Dumfries and Galloway, for example, the Glenkens cluster has been looking for a new head, with education officials, teachers and parent councils engaging in discussions as to the best way forward. The main question, raised most vociferously by those who have seen the positive results of these schools time and again, is this: should we be heralding the unique benefits of our wee all-through schools, rather than rushing to make everything fit into the one-size-fits-all model of education?

Small but feisty

Dumfries and Galloway is a rural area with a high standard of education. Within that, the Glenkens is a tight little bundle of small communities with only about 150 pupils in total across 200 square miles, in what is essentially an all-through school from nursery to secondary. They have a history of fighting their corner when threatened.

Some people in the know say the best type of school has a low pupil-to-teacher ratio and composite classes in which a variety of ages are taught alongside each other. Many parents pay a lot of money for this kind of privileged education for their children. So why aren’t we hailing the virtues of our small rural schools?

Financial constraints are one thing, but the real test of a good education is what type of adult emerges at the end of the process.

Sam Heughan, now a Hollywood star who is best-known for his role in the Scotland-set television series Outlander, went to our area’s Kells primary. He tells me: “I felt it gave me a strong academic understanding; the school had great teachers and really felt like an extended family.”

The school had great teachers and really felt like an extended family

In our rural communities, through necessity rather than intent, we generally have small all-through schools. These are places where the people who teach actually know - really know - every child there, and where each child has known the adults often from the start of nursery right up until they leave secondary school.

After an education in one of these all-through schools, in which pupils can spend their entire academic life, what do we get? Is it children who are academically and socially stunted due to limited peer groups, suffering due to lack of subject choice or inhibited due to the small-scale nature of the rural setting?

It seems not. The nurturing, consistent environment created in our small communities, is perhaps the ideal setting to learn many skills and come out the other side a balanced and confident individual.

Jenny Smith, acting headteacher for the Glenkens cluster, suggests that pupils develop an understanding of building relationships in the long term; by not being able to shirk the uncomfortable task of working with peers you might otherwise avoid - as happens in most areas of life - you become adept at hard-won, real-life people skills.

She says: “Many young people leaving small rural schools go on to make a significant contribution to society, possibly because a greater proportion of them are used to taking responsibility - for themselves and for others in their communities. That’s why they achieve relatively highly, as well.”

Alan Smith, a former Glenkens pupil, who has returned to the area after many years away, tells me that, working as a banker in the City of London, the vast majority of his clients would have attended schools such as Eton and Harrow, but he “never felt at a disadvantage, either educationally or socially”. Small rural schools, he says, “produce well-rounded individuals equipped to be valuable members of society…What more can an education system hope to achieve?”

Bespoke is best

In our small schools, children can be taught in a way that is tailored to suit their learning style and interests. Parents can have a personal relationship with teaching staff, with a real input into their children’s education.

Educationalist Professor Stephen Heppell has written that “geographical economies of scale no longer determine ideal school size” and that, by taking advantage of modern information and communications technology, we should be able to support tiny, as well as much larger, schools.

The assumption that larger peer groups and more subject choice is always beneficial seems flawed

The nurturing microcosm of our small rural all-through schools is an ideal learning platform for children to grow until they are ready to emerge as strong, confident adults. The common assumption that larger peer groups and more subject choice is always beneficial seems flawed - and may well be detrimental to pupils’ social, personal and academic development.

Without the additional stress experienced in larger schools through diverse peer groups, anonymous settings, teachers who are strangers and overwhelming subject choice, our children seem to do just fine.

It’s time to put the brakes on amalgamation and consider the unique selling points of the learning contexts provided by our rural schools - and how we can build on them.

Sarah Ade is a mother, business owner and editor of a community newspaper