The hierarchy of subjects in schools is a strange, complicated thing that is rarely spoken about.
English and maths see themselves at the top of the tree. Being compulsory parts of the curriculum, and therefore unburdened by the need to attract pupils at options time, they are beyond the petty squabbling of lesser subjects. They are reinforced in their delusions of grandeur by the prominence given to literacy and numeracy in Scottish government data and the tagline of “the responsibility of all” under Curriculum for Excellence. Very few schools appear to have wholeheartedly embraced this responsibility and have reconciled themselves with relying on teachers in maths and English departments to sort it all out.
Meanwhile (and I speak as an obviously embittered geography teacher), the historians upstairs revel in their academic superiority and the fact that a disproportionate number of graduates in the subject seem to have ended up as politicians, prime ministers and company directors (and teachers).
Having been subjected for years to jibes about photo-chromatic rendering - more commonly known as “colouring in” - I shall willingly educate anyone who will listen about how geography is the one true science and how, before around 1700, nobody studied anything else (and before anyone writes in, I don’t care whether that is true or not). I even got my first job as a principal teacher by explaining to the interview panel that there was nothing that could not be taught - whether numeracy, literacy, health and wellbeing, languages or science - through the medium of geography.
But there are myriad subjects in the school whose teachers never get a chance to indulge in such conversations and that are looked down upon by the supposedly more intellectual disciplines.
One benefit of being in a leadership position is that you get to see things from a completely different perspective; this has been one of the great revelations of first being a depute and then a headteacher. In my experience, all subjects should be equal under the eyes of the timetabler - it is time perhaps to sing the song of the unsung heroes of the curriculum, to celebrate the subjects that rarely get the recognition they deserve.
Home economics was rather a surprise to me when I first became a depute. Wandering the corridors to get to know my new environment, I found kitchens tucked away in corners with no through traffic, where the majority of school staff had no reason to tread. “Home ec” can often be looked down upon by other members of the school. Timetablers leave it to the end, with the result that double periods can be, bizarrely, split over breaktime or lunch. Guidance and senior management often see it as a dumping ground for lost souls who cannot take the arduous nature of more academic subjects.
Yet here, in busy, bustling classrooms, can be found the purest examples of Curriculum for Excellence in action and the development of skills for work and wider achievement that other departments can only dream of. Health and wellbeing, as the responsibility of all, is the bread and butter (sorry) of the home economics department, but the soft skills being taught go far beyond those in action anywhere else.
Home ec teachers have a masterful control of their environment and bring order where there is always the potential for chaos. Where else will students be using knives, fire and electrical equipment with the potential to maim individuals and blow up the school (foil in the microwave, anyone?) all in the space of an hour and a half? But the damage you might fear never occurs, or at least very rarely. Students are kept constantly busy - preparing, weighing, mixing, decanting - in between short bouts of necessary exposition. As they are working, the soft skills they are developing tick all the boxes of employability skills and skills for life: team building and communication as they work with partners; time keeping as they follow a strict schedule to ensure that everything is ready on time; problem solving and analysis as they figure out why the jam pudding has not risen as well as it should.
And beyond this, there are the peripheral questions: is microwaving or steaming the most environmentally conscious way of cooking? How can we minimise the food waste in this meal? What is the most cost-effective way to feed a large family? Then, when all is done and the finished product lies before them, what parent could possibly object to the value of students washing up and putting away the dishes before being allowed to leave?
Downstairs, and far away from the peaceful academic classrooms, technical teachers (or “techie” teachers, to use the more common moniker) are plying their trade surrounded by the same industrial machinery that powered Victorian factories. With eyes in the backs of their heads, they can sense the merest inkling of a chisel about to be thrown, often before the potential offender has even thought about it themselves. Having invariably spent 10 years of their pre-teaching working lives in industry, they brook no nonsense and prepare many learners for a life of hard graft.
In their department are often found the dispossessed and disillusioned who do not respond well to a formal classroom environment. Amid staffroom discussion about the behaviour of the school’s most troubled individuals, the response from techie teachers is often a swift “doesn’t happen in my class”. It is not unusual to find some of the harder-to-reach S4 and S5 students preparing for college and apprenticeships by spending their whole time at machines: making chairs in practical woodworking, welding brackets in engineering skills, and designing marketing materials in graphic communication.
Outside, or located in some other out-of-the-way corner of the building, physical education teachers are another supreme example of the purveyors of Curriculum for Excellence in action. Dealing with both excitable mobs and reluctant participants all in one class is their stock-in-trade. Freed from the structure of a classroom setting and school uniform, both naturally excitable and morbidly languid children need to be herded like cats to get the most out of, at best, 30 minutes or so of actual teaching time (after changing and trying to take a register with dodgy wi-fi in the school gym are taken out of the equation). While ostensibly all about physical fitness and inculcating lifelong exercise habits, PE lessons take communication skills to a whole new level. And when these skills fail - as they sometimes do with students who have not been properly taught how to lose or win with grace - diplomacy skills come to the fore in trying to settle down teenage nerves about practising sport and fitness in front of others.
There are unsung heroes in the teaching classrooms of the school as well. These are the teachers who work hard to ensure opportunity for all by providing the courses that would not have seen the light of day in a mainstream curriculum five or 10 years ago. Media studies and travel and tourism, for instance, seem in the minds of the timetabler to exist solely to hoover up students who cannot be placed elsewhere. But from such inauspicious beginnings, miracles can occur.
In travel and tourism, for instance, freed from the burden of an end-of-year exam, many students come away with a National 5 that they might not have achieved in any other subject (not to mention a working knowledge of customer service and employability skills). Meanwhile, in media studies students who gave up on writing essays in S2 find renewed hope when analysing the latest zombie flick. Against all expectations, they come out of their senior phase with a Higher - and the school has a course comparator that shows the subject is working well above the grade.
Finally, a word needs to be said about the creative subjects of art and music. Under attack (albeit more so in England than in Scotland) for their supposed lack of application in a purely economic system, here is where the genius entrepreneurs that will save the country are being forged.
Taught to think of unique solutions to complex problems, and that diligence and application in the face of failure will lead to reward in the long term, students in these calm, relaxing environments - under the instruction of some of the most passionate and enthusiastic members of the teaching staff - perform to the best of their ability. Indeed, if all I wanted to do as a school leader was to increase average tariff points, I would abandon all other subjects and just send students to these departments for the whole of their school career.
Ultimately, schools are a complex mix of personalities and subjects, academic excellence and practical application, but it is important to remember that, under the eyes of the Scottish Qualifications Authority and the employer (if not the media), we are all equal. The many unsung heroes of school around the country need to be lauded and applauded for their contribution to the whole wonderful mix.
John Rutter is headteacher at Inverness High School
This article originally appeared in the 6 March 2020 issue under the headline “Oh, flour of Scotland - all sing up for ‘home ec’”
