BOSH! Regard your lesson plan, Teacher: it’s Pupil Premium stakeholder No.64.
Bish, bash bosh! ‘I come from a single parent family and am thus unwilling to engage in academic subjects without specially tailored learning resources.’
Print, print, print, prints the photocopier. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tocks the clock.
Bish, bash bosh! ‘The lack of boundaries employed by my hard-working mother of three means that my disruptive behaviour must be treated differently from those who know better.’
Warn, warn, warn, warns the teacher. Soothe, soothe, soothe, soothes the pastoral assistant.
Bish, bash, bosh! ‘As a boy from a working class family I am more likely to respond to a competitive element, and thus I need lessons which both suit my learning style and are gamified for my benefit.’
Tick, tick, tick, ticks the observer. Red, amber, green, simulates SIMS.
Bish, bash, bosh! ‘Allow me to not complete homework because I represent the school football team. And piss off if you think I’m completing it at lunch time.’
Snap, snap, snap,, snaps the school photographer. Cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer his mates.
‘Miss, can I take my book home to re-draft my essay?’ asks the Pupil Premium girl who stores her free school meals in tupperware to eat in her bedroom every night.
Grouping children according to their social context might well be interesting as a data-exercise. It might, and often does, tell us all sorts about society. However, teaching and treating them according to their social context is unfair, discriminatory and, as Greg Ashman superbly puts here, administratively inefficient and incoherent. It exacerbates social problems.
I do wonder if those who strive most to tell us that every child matters actually mean some children matter.