The Archbishop of Glasgow, Philip Tartaglia, told Catholic secondary headteachers to “prioritise the Catholic mission of your school over other considerations”, at their annual conference last week.
For some aspects of the Catholic mission, the message from Tartaglia (pictured) sits comfortably. The conference, in Edinburgh, opened with Mother Teresa’s prayer, Do It Anyway, which talks about being honest and sincere, doing good, being kind, giving your best, succeeding and creating. It urges that these things are done irrespective of the fact that good “will often be forgotten” or undermined.
Who could argue with that? And what might be the power of being reminded of such values daily in school?
Some would argue that, owing to Curriculum for Excellence, we have values-based education in all Scottish schools and that, through its “four capacities” - successful learners, confident individuals, responsible citizens, effective contributors - we are trying to create a particular kind of future citizen. But, as a country, have we truly given permission to non-denominational schools to pay more than lip service to those capacities beyond that of “successful learners”?
Ironically, the research evidence shows that, if we did, it could serve us well when it comes to exam results. Back in 2000, Lindsay Paterson, professor of education policy at the University of Edinburgh, revealed that working-class children attending Scotland’s Catholic secondaries were more likely to reach the benchmark of three or more Highers.
His research also indicated that 65 per cent of Catholics who reach this standard go on to university or college, compared with 56 per cent in mixed schools.
Ethos and community spirit
Paterson argued that the ethos of Catholic schools and the fact that they are embedded in their communities give them the edge.
But, of course, there are aspects of what is taught to pupils in Catholic schools that sit less comfortably with those outside the faith.
Michael McMahon, a priest, spoke to the delegates at the Catholic Headteachers’ Association of Scotland conference about the “linguistic landmines” in the catechism, which talks, for example, of homosexuality being a “condition” and homosexual acts being “intrinsically disordered”. McMahon argued that the catechism was written 28 years ago and was a product of its time. He stressed that the church did not consider homosexuality to be a disease and has no truck with cure therapy. But the fact remains that if sex isn’t about procreation, the Catholic church preaches that it is not “a legitimate expression of sexuality”.
McMahon urged the headteachers to “tread lightly” with pupils on sexuality and gender, and to be “kind, generous and forgiving”.
However, Humanists UK, a campaign group opposed to the state funding of faith schools, argues that some faith schools still do not provide“comprehensive relationships and sex education … inclusive of LGBT pupils”.
Certainly, in this year, the 100th anniversary of Catholic schools beginning to receive full state funding in Scotland, it is possible to argue that they have served their purpose. The Irish immigrant community in Scotland was marginalised in the early 20th century. But today, the 2011 census shows that Catholics are as advantaged or disadvantaged as the rest of the population.
However, any attempt by those outside the faith to end Catholic education would have serious consequences and there is, understandably, no appetite among the key political parties in Scotland to “stoke the fires of sectarianism”, as the country’s pre-eminent historian, Tom Devine, puts it. As a result, like it or not, Catholic schools are here to stay until such a time as families stop opting into them. And for as long as they continue, the rest of the education system should learn what it can from their successes.
Emma Seith is a reporter for Tes Scotland
