Why isn't the Government’s School Direct scheme attracting enough schools?

In principle, it's a good idea, but the Government’s School Direct scheme isn’t attracting enough schools. Are we heading for a shortage of teachers?

It’s a good idea in theory: give schools more of a role in teacher training and you’ll get teachers who are school-ready from the first day. But the Government’s School Direct scheme isn’t attracting enough schools.

A report this week by school thinktank Million+ says there could be a shortfall of 3,000 teachers this year and warned that "higher education providers will pull the plug on teacher training altogether." Those fears seem to be backed up by a letter sent out this week from the University of Bath to partner schools, proposing to end its PGCE programme in 2014.

Until now, teachers had two main routes into the profession: through university or through a Graduate Teacher Programme (GTP). The latter has been scrapped in favour of School Direct, which aims to expand the school-based training for those wanting to work at local authority funded schools in England (for academies, independent schools and free schools no teaching qualification is required.)

I should declare an interest at this point and explain that I have recently been squeezed out of the PGCE sausage factory and find myself tumbling towards September with no job but plenty of enthusiasm. What I can say from my experience is that a PGCE gives you a broad set of skills, but each individual school has very narrow demands on what it wants.

It’s understandable that some schools might want candidates more tailored to their needs. Each school is so different in curriculum, approach and ethos – even those who resist academisation, and remain under local authority control – that it’s virtually impossible to find a one-size-fits-all training programme. If you have a PGCE, you have a rough idea how to teach across a range of schools and in a range of styles – but schools have precise needs. So if there are obvious advantages to training teachers in schools, why isn’t it proving more popular?

The DfE’s website flags up School Direct as a path into teaching for "top graduates". You might ask: a "top" graduate in what sense? A graduate from a "top" university? Someone with a first from any university? A graduate in an education-related subject? It isn’t clear, although the aspiration is.

The DfE says “it is right that head teachers are selective and choose only the brightest graduates best suited to their schools,” adding that teaching vacancies are at a low. The question is what happens if those vacancy rates do not remain low.

Some schools have taken it to mean a licence to pluck only the most promising candidates – so much for differentiation, you might think. But you can’t blame schools: why should they pick anyone else? There’s no room for dead weight at institutions that dread the arrival of Ofsted and want teachers producing gold-standard observation-ready outstanding quality lessons from Day One. Why waste time bringing a candidate with potential up to the level of what someone else can achieve straight off the bat?

There’s no reason for that to change, either, as long as the conveyor belt keeps producing an abundance of candidates who are up to the mark. Nice schools in leafy suburbs can cheerfully cherrypick their way through a guaranteed deluge of applications for every job. More challenging urban schools or rural schools find it tougher; look at somewhere like Aberdeenshire and it becomes even more extreme, with the council looking to Ireland and Canada for recruits. So the schools who might benefit most from  School Direct are often those least able to have the infrastructure, time or human resources to make it happen.

But here’s where the system could be trouble. If more universities consider pulling out of offering PGCEs, and there isn’t enough takeup for School Direct, where will the next generation of teachers come from? Who is going to bridge the gap – especially when school places are increasing all the time? Perhaps David Cameron’s beloved ‘nudge theory’ will come into play; perhaps not.

At the heart of the policy is a sensible principle. But a sensible principle doesn’t translate into anything actually happening. If there is to be a shortage of teachers in a year’s time, where will we find them from? 

Why isn't the government's idea of training teachers in schools more popular? Photo: Getty
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Inside a shaken city: "I just want to be anywhere that’s not Manchester”

The morning after the bombing of the Manchester Arena has left the city's residents jumpy.

On Tuesday morning, the streets in Manchester city centre were eerily silent.

The commuter hub of Victoria Station - which backs onto the arena - was closed as police combed the area for clues, and despite Mayor Andy Burnham’s line of "business as usual", it looked like people were staying away.

Manchester Arena is the second largest indoor concert venue in Europe. With a capacity crowd of 18,000, on Monday night the venue was packed with young people from around the country - at least 22 of whom will never come home. At around 10.33pm, a suicide bomber detonated his device near the exit. Among the dead was an eight-year-old girl. Many more victims remain in hospital. 

Those Mancunians who were not alerted by the sirens woke to the news of their city's worst terrorist attack. Still, as the day went on, the city’s hubbub soon returned and, by lunchtime, there were shoppers and workers milling around Exchange Square and the town hall.

Tourists snapped images of the Albert Square building in the sunshine, and some even asked police for photographs like any other day.

But throughout the morning there were rumours and speculation about further incidents - the Arndale Centre was closed for a period after 11.40am while swathes of police descended, shutting off the main city centre thoroughfare of Market Street.

Corporation Street - closed off at Exchange Square - was at the centre of the city’s IRA blast. A postbox which survived the 1996 bombing stood in the foreground while officers stood guard, police tape fluttering around cordoned-off spaces.

It’s true that the streets of Manchester have known horror before, but not like this.

I spoke to students Beth and Melissa who were in the bustling centre when they saw people running from two different directions.

They vanished and ducked into River Island, when an alert came over the tannoy, and a staff member herded them through the back door onto the street.

“There were so many police stood outside the Arndale, it was so frightening,” Melissa told me.

“We thought it will be fine, it’ll be safe after last night. There were police everywhere walking in, and we felt like it would be fine.”

Beth said that they had planned a day of shopping, and weren’t put off by the attack.

“We heard about the arena this morning but we decided to come into the city, we were watching it all these morning, but you can’t let this stop you.”

They remembered the 1996 Arndale bombing, but added: “we were too young to really understand”.

And even now they’re older, they still did not really understand what had happened to the city.

“Theres nowhere to go, where’s safe? I just want to go home,” Melissa said. “I just want to be anywhere that’s not Manchester.”

Manchester has seen this sort of thing before - but so long ago that the stunned city dwellers are at a loss. In a city which feels under siege, no one is quite sure how anyone can keep us safe from an unknown threat

“We saw armed police on the streets - there were loads just then," Melissa said. "I trust them to keep us safe.”

But other observers were less comforted by the sign of firearms.

Ben, who I encountered standing outside an office block on Corporation Street watching the police, was not too forthcoming, except to say “They don’t know what they’re looking for, do they?” as I passed.

The spirit of the city is often invoked, and ahead of a vigil tonight in Albert Square, there will be solidarity and strength from the capital of the North.

But the community values which Mancunians hold dear are shaken to the core by what has happened here.

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