Every child matters

Flattery usually works. ‘You’ve got such a good reputation for being inclusive so I’m sure you’d be willing to give him a go.’  ‘He’ had been expelled from primary school aged six and had spent the last four years in a special school for children with emotional and behavioural difficulties.  Where he had done really well, by all accounts, and was now considered ready to make it back to mainstream the following September, when he started secondary school.  The thing was, they said, could he spend a bit of time at our school each week, so ease the transition into full time mainstream education?

 Of course I had to say yes.  If a church school can’t offer welcome to reformed reprobates, then we might as well shut up shop.  The year 6 teacher wasn’t thrilled, but he was only going to come for one afternoon a week -with his own minder- and do art, his favourite subject. The special school would watch the whole thing very carefully and pull the plug if necessary.

 And it all went very well. He was no problem, did some good art, made friends, and we were provided with opportunities to bask in the glory of our wonderful inclusiveness. Until, that it, the people who administer the sats tests rang. Why, they wanted to know, hadn’t we submitted any results for this child?  We patiently explained that while he was, technically, on our register, he was in fact dual registered with a special school where he spent four and  a half days a week and that therefore, they had submitted his results. After all, the sats test English, maths and science and he had not attended a such class here ever.  Just art – for two hours a week.

 The authorities were not impressed. As he was on our register, his results had to be included in our statistics. Children like him sometimes find learning that little bit harder, what with their devoting lots of energy to sorting out chaotic emotions. He missed the level four gold standard by a wide margin and his ‘value added progress rating’ was risible. He’d been too busy transforming to learn sums and stuff as well.

 But, and here’s the rub, when it comes to statistics, every child matters.  He was worth 5%. 5% can represent the difference between the local authority leaving you in peace and sending in a SWAT team to find out why you are failing.

 It was still the right thing to do.