How far can fashion trends be considered to be dictated by the social and political climate?

Alice Lavelle (Y13) looks into how fashion taste can be shaped by different trends in social and political thinking.

In this February’s Vogue there was an article written by Ellie Pithers ascribing the sudden popularity of the jagged hemline among both designers and consumers, to the current uncertain political climate, post Brexit and post Trump. Pithers claimed, with support from the Preen designer Thea Bregazzi, that the sudden interest in the more bohemian, asymmetrical hem was a representation of people’s confusion and uncertainty following both Britain leaving the EU and Trump being elected president. Pithers further highlighted how this trend of rollercoaster hemlines can be linked to the fluctuating value of the pound, and more generally the uncertain economic climate, citing the climbing hemlines of the prosperous twenties and sixties, and ankle grazing skirts of the poorer thirties as her evidence. How far this can be considered true, or rather an overzealous journalist reading too far into an otherwise trivial catwalk trend is of course debatable.

However I would argue that this link between fashion and politics is not only accurate in today’s changing social climate, but one that can be seen throughout history – and, when considering this idea, one name immediately springs to mind – Jackie Kennedy. The first lady was a style icon within the United States throughout her husband’s presidency, with the clothes and styles she wore immediately being copied by designers up and down the country. However, what the women of the time who looked to the first lady as means of inspiration were not aware of, was that her beautifully designed gowns and brightly coloured skirt suits were in fact designed in response to the changing US political policies. Following the McCarthyist era of the 1950s, the Unites States was pushing to reinvent itself as progressive, self-believing nation, and Jackie’s traditional, yet simultaneously cosmopolitan ensembles, with a hint of European influence at the hands of Hollywood designer Oleg Cassini, were essentially a well-crafted response to the country’s growing global presence.

Looking further back at iconic moments in the history of fashion it becomes more and more evident that the garments which have shaped the way we dress today were in fact themselves shaped by the political climate they were created within. Take Christian Dior’s ‘New Look’, the long skirted, cinched waisted silhouette that reinvented feminine dress, created in 1947 in response to the more liberal society emerging following the second world war. Or Paco Rabanne’s metal disc dress of 1966 – favouring experimentation over practicality, this design embodied the hopes of the emerging European society.

In terms of designers creating garments as a response to the social climate, you have Rudy Gernreich’s topless dress in the early 70’s, showing the still persistent objectification of the female form, rapidly followed by Bill Gibb’s eclectic, romantic collection in 1972 that paved the way for the ‘hippie movement’ within design, and the debut of Diane Von Furstenberg’s iconic wrap dress in 1973 – a garment that became synonymous with female empowerment within the workplace, a statement of society’s changing attitude towards women. The speed with which these popular styles changed and evolved is just a further representation of how the fashion industry responded to the changes of attitudes towards women in the workplace for example, again showing how intrinsically linked both fashion and political trends are.

And this concept, as explained by Pithers, is relevant today beyond the sudden popularity of rollercoaster hemlines. The spring shows in September all indicated that the previous androgynous styles of autumn/winter were out, and feminine florals and chiffon were back, this time with an edge of female empowerment. Models walked the dior catwalk in white t shirts emblazoned with the slogan ‘We should all be feminists’ taken from the title of an essay written by the Nigerian born Chimamanda Adichie – a bold statement from the newly appointed, first female head of the iconic fashion house, Maria Grazia Chiuri. This surge of feminism across the spring/summer shows again was more than just a trivial fashion trend, it was an embodiment of the rising power of women in the workplace, and within politics – with Hillary at that time still being the potential president of the US.

And it is these trends, the jagged hemlines and cinched waists that eventually get filtered down through the high-street stores and into our wardrobes – meaning the clothes that we wear, either to make a statement or purely because they are comfortable, are essentially just a physical representation of our current uncertainty towards our political climate in a post Brexit post Trump universe.

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Cross gender casting in Shakespeare’s plays: Does it solve the problem of gender inequality?

Cecelia (Year 12) investigates the modern and historical practice of cross gender casting in Shakespeare’s plays.

From Tamsin Grieg’s Malvolia to Maxine Peake’s Hamlet, cross gendered casting is becoming increasingly popular in British theatre, never more so than in Shakespeare’s plays. New adaptations wanting to put a spin on the 400-year-old productions now look to casting female actresses in the typically male roles of Lear, Macbeth and Othello. Whilst this allows the play to be seen through a different feminine perspective and offers a completely new interpretation of the character, cross gendered casting gives women the opportunities to embody some of theatre’s most complex and popular roles.

However, this seemingly ‘modern’ twist on Shakespeare’s work is not as revolutionary as we may think. When Shakespeare wrote the majority of his work, women were not allowed to perform on stage and so his female characters were always played by young boys or men. As much as gender blind casting can provide a wider range of roles for female actresses, is it always effective and when should the line be drawn?

It is no wonder that Shakespeare’s work is constantly being revisited and adapted, his original text is so complex and diverse that something new can be gleaned from it with every new actor. Hamlet is the most frequently adapted Shakespearian play and has one of the longest histories of women playing the title role. The character of Hamlet is uncertain, passive and lacks resolve – qualities that are typically seen as feminine. Hamlet’s effeminate side has led to the character often being portrayed by women, with some believing that they can inhabit the role with more ease as they are able to fully connect with the feminine side to his personality.

Some of the most famous Victorian Hamlets were women, Sarah Bernhardt and Alice Marriot’s Hamlets were highly regarded by most critics with the part said to have benefitted from their “injection of femininity” (Catherine Belsey). Despite this, some critics argued that it was impossible for an actress to truly comprehend and identify with the thoughts and emotions of a man – a line of argument that is still present today. With this in mind some productions choose to play the character of Hamlet as a woman as demonstrated in Asta Nielsen’s portrayal of Princess Hamlet in the 1920 silent film. Nielsen played Hamlet as a woman masquerading as a man, possessing all the masculine skills and lacking only the instinct to kill. But regardless of the past success of actresses playing the Dane, there is still a public reluctance to accept this change; a 2014 YouGov poll found that 48% of Britons were not happy with the idea of a female Hamlet.

Many argue that by changing the gender of the actor, the gender of the character is effectively altered as well; as such, must the text itself be adjusted and if so, to what extent?

Whilst Vanessa Redgrave played the male role of Prospero, Helen Mirren’s Prospera was a female rewrite of the original. For most of Julie Taymor’s film version of The Tempest, the change to Prospera worked but because her daughter, Miranda, stayed female, the relationship between the magician and the child became complicated. The dynamics between a father and a daughter are vastly different to that of a mother and a daughter, and the Tempest is inherently a complex dissection of the fraught bond between a father and his daughter. The removal of this crucial theme dramatically altered the message of the entire piece and as such did not sit well with many audience members.

Whilst cross gender casting did occur in the 18th and 19th century, it has gained huge popularity in the last 20 years. As gender is beginning to be seen less as a biological definition and more as a social construct, the idea of a woman playing a man or vice versa has become far more acceptable. Our intrinsic understanding of male and female characteristics have changed, along with the ways in which we wish to see them portrayed on stage.

Of course, the opportunity for great female actresses to play great Shakespearian roles is positive. As well as giving women the chance to play classic and multifaceted roles, it allows for directors to create something new out of a play that has been around for hundreds of years.

Despite this, as we move forward, the dramatic community must place more of an emphasis on the creation of original female roles which share the same complexity and breadth of emotion as that of their male counterparts. Juliet Stevenson summarised the debate neatly with her statement on the red carpet that she “want[s] great parts for women, not women playing great parts for men”.

Twitter: @English_WHS

Taking the register

James Courtenay Clack considers the way we use language in the classroom.

It started with a pupil in my Year 9 class dismissing Romeo and Juliet’s first meeting as ‘flanter’. Whilst inwardly I shared her sniffiness about their saccharine shared sonnet, there seemed to be a clear challenge coming from this pupil. Would I, as a teacher, and an English teacher no less, allow her to use slang to talk about one of the most famous scenes in all of literature? This got me thinking about the way we use language in the classroom.

With morning and afternoon registration and seven lessons, most pupils can expect to answer the register nine times a day. As important as this rite is in keeping track of pupils, far more interesting is the other type of register pupils flit between. If anyone with a half-keen ear were to follow a pupil around the school for a day, they would notice that the way pupils speak and write changes as they move from home to school, from WhatsApp groups to essays. Rare is the pupil, for example, who answers the question of what they want for breakfast in the same formal and detailed manner in which they would a question about the bleak landscapes of TS Eliot’s ‘The Waste Land’.

Register, as coined by Thomas Bertram Reid and developed by Martin Joos, is the sociolinguistic term for the use of language as defined by social situation. Broadly speaking, register is about the level of formality of language and it incorporates elements as disparate as:

  • Vocabulary
  • Tone
  • Dialect
  • Slang
  • Abbreviation
  • Use of full sentences

It is worth thinking about why we use language differently in different contexts. In certain social situations, the answer is obvious. We adopt a more formal register with managers/bosses at work, for example, both as a sign of respect and out of a desire to impress. Similarly, our use of a more informal register with friends belies a level of comfort and intimacy that we do not share with our employers.

For the most part the ability to move between these registers – or at least the knowledge that you speak differently with Mrs Lunnon than you do with your BFFL – is picked up when young. As our social skills develop, our ability to move between registers becomes almost unthinking. When I applied for a job at WHS, for example, I did not have to remind myself not to greet Mrs Lunnon with an ‘alreet pal’ at the start of my interview.

That we use language differently in different social contexts is hardly a ground-breaking observation, but it does have several implications for teachers. Once pupils enter the classroom they are introduced to a new range of registers and in English, there are two main areas of interest, or areas of clash: the way we talk in class discussions and the way we write essays.

Although essays are the main form of assessment, the primary skill being assessed – interpretation of a literary text – is developed in class discussion and debate.

The question of how we speak in class is deeply political. The fact that the ability to use language in certain ways is a form of social currency in this country has moved schools such as Michaela Community School and Harris Academy Upper Norwood to ban the use of certain registers in the classroom.

The desire to equip pupils with the verbal skills required for social mobility is undoubtedly a noble one, but I would argue that such a hard-line approach to register is dangerous. Firstly, the fact that WHS’ A-Level curriculum includes writers as diverse as Chaucer and Tennessee Williams is proof enough that there isn’t one ‘correct’ form of English. Secondly and more importantly, however, is the entire point of class discussions. The reason we discuss and weigh up ideas and not just dictate, Mr Gradgrind style, from the front is that we want to encourage pupils to develop their own voices and their own thoughts.

If pupils are going to develop ideas and formulate opinions through discussion, as they will have to do at university, they will need to feel a sense of ownership over the curriculum. It is for this reason that I encourage my class to voice opinions about texts in their own way and it was for this reason that I whole-heartedly agreed with my Year 9 pupil about Romeo and his ‘holy shrine’. Similarly, if my Year 12 class want to refer to the author of Mrs Dalloway as Ginny Bae, or if my Year 8s want to describe Shylock’s insistence on his pound of flesh as ‘a bit extra’, then why should they not?

It is possible to create an enjoyable learning environment in which pupils feel confident voicing ideas and opinions in their own language whilst at the same time modelling the more rigorous language of academia. So I agreed that yes, Shylock ‘was a bit extra’, but then questioned them as to whether his desire for revenge along with Antonio’s overt anti-Semitism made Shylock a tragic hero in the eyes of a modern audience or whether he was a mere comic foil about whose suffering a contemporary audience would not have cared a jot. That he is both, and more, is testament to the genius of Shakespeare, a man who knew more than most about the power of mixing the language of the court with that of the street YEAH.

Twitter: @English_WHS

Strong Silences

wimbledon logo

Suzanne East, mindfulness lead at Wimbledon High considers the benefits and the challenges of delivering strong silences to students.

At the start of the Autumn term this year we introduced Strong Silences across the school as a positive and calming way to start the school day.  There was, and continues to be, a mixed reaction from both staff and students as to the benefits of this exercise. I suspect that at the start of a busy day it is one activity that often gets forgotten or postponed.  However, I would like to take this opportunity to speak out in favour of trying a little harder, both for ourselves and for our students and give strong silences another go.

Lack of time is the most frequent reason I hear given as to why people get out the habit of practising any mindful meditations. In such busy times we have to prioritise our to-do lists and time spent seemingly doing nothing can be hard to justify.  So what exactly is the intention of a strong silence and what benefits can it offer?

During a short mindfulness practice, such as a strong silence, we exercise a level of self-discipline in stopping our usual busyness and directing our attention elsewhere.  Rather than emptying the mind the aim is to focus on our actual lived reality, perhaps on the movement of the breath, the noises of our surroundings or the physical sensations of the floor and the chair beneath us.  This is difficult to achieve, but we know that we can train the brain in such behaviours and, like any exercise, focussing the mind becomes easier with practice.  As teachers we know that being able to maintain focus on the task in hand is a vital skill that all children need to learn if they are to work and perform to their maximum.  We are frequently warned that modern technologies provide constant interruptions and the brain is always attracted to novelty.  Any practice that can help our students to maintain focus in this sparkly and noisy world must be a vital life skill.

Being able to step back from difficult and demanding tasks can also improve over-all performance on these tasks.  It is often when we allow our mind to focus on a totally different task that creative solutions seem to appear to us.  What we are actually doing here is allowing our brain to look at the bigger picture and see what may elude us when we are too deeply engrossed in a task.  It is often in the shower, or when we are happily drifting off to sleep that our best ideas arise. There are many studies that suggest successful individuals build in renewal phases to their working strategies and that this can build cognitive abilities1.  Encouraging and reminding our students that they need to stop regularly when revising or writing essays can help them to avoid the frustration and burn out that can occur when they try to force themselves to work too long.

There is also a lot to be said for the simple power of silence itself.  In our lives we are constantly under pressure to perform, our opinions are sought and questions are asked; we feel ourselves as being judged by friends, families and those who have authority over us.  With age, most of us are able to build an inner confidence and ability to trust our own values and instincts, but this is a difficult skill for teenagers whose prefrontally cortex-challenged brains and hyper-sensitive amagdala’s are all too quick to tell them that they are social failures.  A strong silence is a time to sit quietly with yourself, time-in as author Daniel Siegel2 put it in his book Brainstorm, the power and purpose of the teenage brain. To stop telling, showing, explaining, reacting and to just be.

So strong silences have a lot to offer and teach our students about how they can take control of their lives and responses to the challenges that they may encounter.  They do not need to take long, they do not need cushions, blankets and uncomfortable postures and could be slotted into our daily routines as an example of how we balance the activities of our day and cater for all of our needs, physical, spiritual and mental. However, one real concern that I do still have is that strong silences delivered without real engagement from teachers could leave students dwelling on negative thoughts, worrying and feeling isolated.  We cannot teach these techniques without developing our own practice and understanding the different experiences that can result.  Ideally students need to follow a course such as the MiSP’s .b or paws b3 that gives the students the context and framework of mindfulness from which they can then develop their own practice.  A strong silence is a powerful tool to add to a day’s routine, but it needs to be nurtured and cared for if it is to really offer these benefits.

1) Chiesa, A., Calati, R., & Serretti, A. (2011). Does mindfulness training improve cognitive abilities?  A systematic review of neuropsychological findings. Clinical psychology review, 31 (3), 449-464.

2) Siegel , D.J (2011) Mindsight Practice A: Time-In.  In: Brainstorm, the power and purpose of the teenage brain p282-3. Scribe Publications.

3) Mindfulness in Schools Project various articles on the benefits of their mindful curricula https://mindfulnessinschools.org/research/

Twitter: @DH_Pastoral

The Effect of Legalised Abortion on Crime

Wimbledon High History

Ava (Year 12), investigates how changes in the right to abortion impacted crime rates in the USA during the late 20th century.

Christmas Day, 1989. Crime is just about at its peak in the United States. Within the fifteen years preceding this day, violent crime has risen by over 80 per cent. All seemed set to continue like this, with crime following the same upward trajectory it had been on for many years. However, in the early 1990s, crime began to fall sharply and dramatically in a totally unexpected way; criminologists, police officials, politicians and economists all failed to predict this sudden fall and could offer no clear explanation for why it had occurred.

Many theories were thrown around, from innovative policing strategies, to a stronger economy, yet none seemed to offer an expansive or conclusive argument. That is, until Donohue and Levitt hypothesised that this fall in crime rates could all be traced back to a winter day in 1973… the day when legalised abortion was suddenly extended to the entirety of the United States.

The US has always had a fraught and complicated history regarding abortion. In the embryonic days of the nation, abortion was permissible until the first movements of the foetus could be felt; in 1828, New York became the first state to restrict abortion, and by 1900 it had been made illegal throughout the country. Through the 60s, several states began to allow abortion under extreme circumstances, such as rape, and by the 70s, five states had made abortion entirely legal and broadly available.

It was not until the 22nd of January 1973 that legalised abortion suddenly rippled through the rest of the country, due to the US’s Supreme Court ruling in Roe v. Wade. This pivotal moment in American legal history in which Justice Blackmun concluded that “the detriment that the State would impose upon the pregnant woman by denying this choice [abortion] is altogether apparent”, would go on to have a monumental impact on crime rates during the 1990s.

Before Roe v. Wade, abortion was expensive and inaccessible, reserved for the daughters of middle-to-upper class families; however, now any women could obtain an abortion, often for less than 100 dollars. The social impacts of this were ground-breaking. Now, a woman who was unmarried, in her teens, or poor (sometimes all three) would be able to take advantage of Roe. V Wade. Women with these socio-economic backgrounds are likely to bring up children who are 50% more likely to live in child poverty, and 60% more likely to grow up with one parent. These two factors combined (childhood poverty and a single-parent household) are among the strongest predictors that a child will have a criminal future. That is not to say that they always predicate criminal behaviour, but rather that within certain circumstances provide very strong indicators for a child who will eventually contribute to rising crime rates.

In the first year after Roe. V Wade, there was one abortion for every 4 live births within the United States, and by 1980, one for every 2.25 births. Herein lies the reason which legalising abortion had a larger effect on lowering crime rates than any other single measure. The women in the United States who were most likely to raise a child who would in the future contribute to crime were now the women most likely to take advantage of new legal measures allowing them the choice to abort.

In the 1990s, just as children born around the time of Roe. V Wade would have been hitting teenage years – the years in which young men are most likely to commit crime – the rate of crime began to fall.

This theory – known as the Donohue-Levitt hypothesis – has provoked strong reactions from many. Firstly, among the politicians who entered heated debates claiming that their new policing strategies were the reason for the crime slump; secondly, among the public, many of whom simply did not believe it. If you are still in need of some convincing, take a look at similar situations in Canada, Australia and Romania, all countries who legalised abortion in some way and saw a drastic fall in crime rates in subsequent years. Better yet, the five states in the US which legalised abortion five years before Roe. V Wade, saw a decrease in crime… five years before the rest.

Steve Sailer and John Lott are two critics who have been vociferous in their rejection of the model. They claim that Donohue and Levitt ignore the indisputable fact that the homicide rate of young males (especially young Black males) temporarily skyrocketed in the late 1980s, young men who were born right around the time of the legalisation of abortion. However, Levitt provides a lengthy retort to this on his blog, which can be found here, if you are so inclined. In it, he comments on the importance of crack cocaine to understanding the fuller picture.

Therefore, whilst it is more comforting to believe that effective governance has had the biggest impact on falling crime rates within the past thirty years, in reality, the granting choice to women in America in fact is the largest reason for the fall in crime rates during the 1990s.

Inspired by “Where Did All the Criminals Go? (Chapter 4), Freakonomics” – Levitt, Donohue

@Freakonomics

Twitter: @DH_Pastoral

Lorca’s Women

Federico García Lorca explored the female soul as no other male writer had done before. His vivid presentation of the effects of oppression and the internalisation of emotion that women endure, in the plays Bodas de Sangre, Yerma and La Casa de Bernarda Alba, is unique and profound. Moreover, Lorca was highly influenced by the period of “modernismo” that was ensuing in Spain during his lifetime. He was, indeed, close friends with Cubist painter Salvador Dalí. Modernist writing reflects less on society and more on individuals, thus it gave Lorca the opportunity to delve deeper into the psychological “state” that is womanhood. Bella Gate (Year 12) summarises her findings to tell us more about Lorca’s work.  

When Lorca first published Bodas de Sangre (Blood Wedding), Yerma and La Casa de Bernarda Alba (The House of Bernarda Alba) as a complete set he called them Duende: Obras Completas. Whilst “Obras Completas” quite simply means “Complete Plays”, “duende” has a myriad of different possible translation. Its literal translation is “goblin” or “elf”, however, in this case Lorca seems to be referring to the “soul” which some of his characters have and quite notably others don’t. The “soul” that Lorca was most interested in exploring was certainly female as one can see in these plays. 

The theory of Canadian poet and critic Janis Rapoport is that these plays should be seen as a complete set with Bodas de Sangre, Yerma and La Casa de Bernarda Alba being seen as a thesis, antithesis and synthesis, respectively. She sees the women in Bodas de Sangre as being like mirrors due to their ability to make the audience reflect on social conventions. Yerma to her is a prism – a self-contained entity that refracts and distorts the qualities of light and image with both internal and external barriers. In La Casa de Bernarda Alba she sees the women as collectively forming a kaleidoscope as they reflect and refract off each other. She goes so far as to say that the house in the play represents the soul of one individual woman.

In Bodas de Sangre women are bound by their social functions. The characters are not endowed with names, thus they lose a sense of their identity. The principle women are the Bride, Mother and Beggar Woman. Perhaps the most interesting woman to analyse is the Bride. The Bride is continually bound by her circumstances. We see women oppressing women in the form of her servant lady attempting to instil morality into her. For the Bride this acts as an imprisoning ideology which hinders her in her pursuit of sexual fulfilment. However, this pursuit results in tragedy due to the societal expectations of virginity before marriage that are put on the Bride. The Mother, Janis Rapoport notes, is an affected character rather than an affecting one. She is greatly affected by the grief that she feels for her husband and son (and eventually sons). She is continually let down by men and her entire identity is defined by this. The Beggar Woman symbolises one of the play’s more profound themes – the mysteries of life and death – conveying that she is somewhat liberated by old age. However, Lorca highlights how all women are bound throughout the generations in different ways. A young woman’s predicament is centred around her sexuality whereas an older woman’s is centred around the lives of her sons. Lorca uses water imagery to portray a contrast between a free and a controlled woman. The control and oppression of women is very much the central theme of the play.

Yerma’s themes are, perhaps, a little more nuanced. There is again the representation of women of all generations, the eldest being the Pagan Crone who has been long repressed by the requirements of honour and strict morality placed upon her. The middle-aged Dolores represents a dichotomy of faith and the supernatural. She prays frequently yet she practises magic in her fertility rituals with Yerma. Then, there is Yerma herself. Yerma quite literally means “barren” – ostensibly referring to her inability to produce a child with her husband Juan. However, this barrenness is also symptomatic of the psychological and emotional (as well as physical) emptiness of womanhood. One may see Yerma’s quest for a child as a yearning for confirmation of feminine identity. However, like the Mother in Bodas de Sangre, she is, bizarrely, indirectly responsible for the death of her own son. By strangling her husband Juan in the end she essentially ruins all chances of having a child. In both Bodas de Sangre and Yerma women’s passionate sexuality, in the case of the bride, or erotic deficiency, in the case of Yerma, lead to tragedy. Thus, Lorca highlights the lack of agency over their sexuality that women had in rural Spain.

Rapoport puts forward the idea that the house in La Casa de Bernarda Alba, with its “thick walls”, embodies the soul of a single woman. Each of the sisters become fragments of a woman’s soul. Adela is the most significant of the sisters perhaps due to her naïveté. She longs for freedom but does not appreciate that it may result in more oppression under the sexual authority of Pepe El Romano – her lover. Bernarda, despite her tyrannical behaviour, is as much a victim of the patriarchy as her daughters, if not more as she has absorbed such oppressive values into her own psyche. The different views and lives of the women reflect off each other in the play.

Fundamentally, Lorca, remarkably whilst being a man himself, strikingly presents life for women in rural Spain and the psychological and philosophical impact of oppression – perhaps because he, himself, was a homosexual who would later be killed under Franco’s fascist regime.

Twitter: @English_WHS, @SpanTweetsWHS

Computer Science at Wimbledon High

Veerman Sajadah, Head of Computer Science, investigates how a change in governmental policy in 2012 impacted the teaching of ICT and Computer Science to current pupils.

2012 marked a major change in secondary education. The education secretary announced that the Information Communication Technology (ICT) curriculum must be scrapped in favour of computer science. While this change was seen as a step forward by many, the debate is still on as to whether our students are missing out on the previously skill based ICT curriculum. Consequently, GCSEs in ICT have now disappeared to make way for new Computer Science (CS) GCSE courses from all major exam boards and all schools have had to adapt. At WHS, students were introduced to CS in Year 7 in 2013. These students were the first cohort to study CS instead of ICT.

The differences between the two subjects have been more contrasting than I anticipated, given that some of the CS content was already being brought into the ICT curriculum. CS offers more challenging topics and the subject content is more specific compared to ICT. ICT topics were seen as more relevant by students not aspiring to pursue a career in technology. If a student wanted to be a historian or lawyer, they could still relate to ICT but when being taught CS topics and programming, they have found it less relevant to what they aim to do in the future.

With all exam boards offering courses in Computer Science rather than ICT, it was important to look closely at their respective specifications. As of date, different exam boards expect different topics to be covered in different depths at GCSE and at A Level. This has major implications on how to structure the KS3 curriculum so that students are ready to cope with the GCSE contents by the end of Year 9.

When we started teaching CS to Year 7 back in September 2013, our students were excited to learn a subject different from what the previous groups had studied. Indeed, CS was a much welcomed change for our girls. This group of students are now in Year 12. Four girls are currently studying the subject at A Level and are keen to study it at University. They are our most senior girls in the subject and the only group from WHS who have a GCSE in CS. Last year’s year 11 result in CS saw all 11 girls score a grade A or A*, (100% A*/A, 46% A*).

Unfortunately, like in many schools, after the first wave of keen Computer Scientist, the numbers of students opting for the subject has fallen. Several studies have been conducted both nationally and internationally to investigate why it has been hard to attract students to study CS. At WHS, we have taken on board these researches and have worked on a plan to address the challenges that we face. We have restructured our KS3 curriculum by introducing key challenging topics early with the aim of making students feel more comfortable and confident with the subject by the time they decide whether to continue studying CS at GCSE. I believe that one of the reasons ICT uptake at GCSE was higher than CS was because students were confident and comfortable with the ICT curriculum. The introduction of programming in early years is also very important to achieve this aim. However, it is not simple to teach complex concepts to children who are too young to learn them. Fortunately, the emergence of several pieces of “children friendly” software that allow students to learn programming through “blockly” has aided teachers incredibly. We are now able to introduce coding to students as early as Year 4. This will produce a generation of students keen and enthusiastic in CS.

On the other hand, there can be a risk of bringing challenging topics to the KS3 curriculum. Students can be put off the subject if they find it too hard. Hence, it is paramount to strike the right balance between “fun” lessons and relevant CS concepts. At WHS, we have brought various new fun activities into our KS3 curriculum. Girls are now able to use the micro:bit to program ringtones and LED strips in Year 7 (see image 1 below). They can create websites and web apps in Year 8 (see image 2 below) and they can use Minecraft and robots to enhance their programming skills in Year 9 (see image 3 below). The department also offers various extra-curricular clubs to engage the students. We are also working with our Scientists in Residence every week to reinforce knowledge learnt in the classroom.

Image 1: Year 7 have been using the micro:bit to program LED lights.

Image 2: Year 8 have been using appshed to create web apps.

Image 3: Year 9 learn how to program the picaxe 20X2 robot.

Our efforts towards promoting this new subject at WHS remain as strong as ever. We are continuously thinking of new ways to promote CS amongst the girls with a view to preparing them for their technological future. We also reach out to Universities such as Imperial College and work with them on projects that allow female students to come in and inspire our pupils. Being a Microsoft Showcase school, we are lucky to participate in events run by Microsoft and we are also looking at inviting experts to deliver talks on latest technologies and innovations in the world of CS. The future of the subject at WHS is bright and we are all ready to embrace it.

Research articles:

1.Computing or ICT: which would serve our pupils better?

https://www.theguardian.com/teacher-network/teacher-blog/2013/aug/12/computing-ict-curriculum-teaching-debate

2.Encouraging Girls to Participate in Computer Science

https://www.slideshare.net/kimarnold28/encouraging-girls-to-participate-in-computer-science-1-092014

3.School ICT to be replaced by computer science programme

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/education-16493929

4.Women in Computer Science: Getting Involved in STEM

https://www.computerscience.org/resources/women-in-computer-science/

 

Twitter: @CS_IT_WHS

Hearing in colour – Synesthesia and musical composition

What if we heard music and at the same time could see colours? What if we composed music to create colours? Louisa (Year 12) investigates synesthesia and musical composition.

Synesthesia is the neurological condition where the stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to automatic, involuntary experiences in another. There are many different types, however common examples include grapheme-colour synesthesia where letters and numbers are seen as clearly coloured and chromesthesia where different musical keys, notes and timbres elicit specific colours and textures in one’s minds’ eye. For example, some synesthetes may clearly see the musical note F as blue or Wednesday as dark green or the number 6 as tasting of strawberries.

How some synesthetes may experience letters and numbers

Whilst some synesthetic associations are more common than others, it is possible for them to occur between any number of senses or cognitive pathways.

The definitive cause of synesthesia is not yet known, however most neuroscientists agree it is caused by excess interconnectivity between the visual cortex of the brain and the different sensory regions. It is estimated that around 1 in 2000 people experience true synesthesia and it is more common in women than men, however it may be more common as many who have it may not consider it a condition and leave it unreported.

One area in which there is a large concentration of synesthetes is in the arts; notable synasthetes include composers Olivier Messiaen, Franz Liszt and Jean Sibelius, Russian author Vladimir Nabokov, artists Vincent van Gogh and David Hockney, jazz legend Duke Ellington and actress Marilyn Monroe.

Composers who experienced chromesthesia (the type of synesthesia where musical keys and notes and sometimes intervals are associated with colours) often actively incorporated it into their works and in some cases made it central to their compositions.

How musical keys may be seen by people with chromesthesia

French composer Olivier Messiaen (1908-1992) was quoted as saying “I see colours when I hear sounds but I don’t see colours with my eyes. I see colours intellectually, in my head.” He said that if a particular sound complex was repeated an octave higher, the colour he saw persisted, but grew paler. If the octave was lowered the colour darkened. Only if the sound complex was transposed into a different pitch did the colour inside his head radically change.

For Messiaen, it was vital that performers and listeners of his music understood the colours he was portraying in his compositions and he did this by writing instructions in his scores. For example, pianists in the second movement (Vocalise) of his Quartet for the End of Time, written in a prisoner of war camp in 1940, are told to aim for “blue-orange” chords. Similarly, musicians playing ‘Couleurs de la cité céleste’ are instructed to conjure “yellow topaz” for one chord cluster and “bright green” for the next as well as many more examples.

Another composer who actively made use of his synesthesia is Finnish composer Jean Sibelius (1865-1957). Sibelius wrote that “music is for me like a beautiful mosaic which God has put together”. He said if he heard a violin playing a certain piece of music, he would see a corresponding colour such as colour of the sky at sunset in the summer. The colour would be uniquely specific and would only be triggered by a particular sound. This means many of his compositions have strong links to imagery experienced by Sibelius which may account for the strong emotional pulse that can be heard throughout his compositions.

Similarly, Franz Lizst (1811-1886) was known to use his synesthesia in his orchestral compositions, saying “O please, gentlemen, a little bluer, if you please! This tone type requires it!” or “That is a deep violet, please, depend on it! Not so rose!” Initially the orchestra believed Liszt was just joking before realising Lizst did in fact see colours for each tone and key.

It can be difficult to understand the experiences of true synesthetes when not having the condition oneself, however this can be made easier by looking at the works of synesthetic artist Wassily Kandinsky (1866-1944), the first abstract painter. Instead of using his synesthesia to compose new music, he would create artwork based on the music he heard.

Kandinsky discovered his synesthesia at a performance of Wagner’s opera Lohengrin in Moscow. He said “I saw all my colours in spirit, before my eyes. Wild, almost crazy lines were sketched in front of me.” In 1911, after studying and settling in Germany, he was similarly moved by a Schoenberg concert of 3 Klavierstücke Op. 11 and finished painting Impression III (Konzert) two days later.

Impression III (Konzert) – Kandinsky

When studying the music of known synesthetic composers, it’s important we bear in mind what the composers were experiencing when writing it as it adds another dimension to the music and can change the overall interpretation. It also offers a fascinating link between music and art, adding increased complexity to the process of musical composition.

Twitter: @Music_WHS

Chaucerian Challenges: Studying The Merchant’s Tale at English A Level

Studying Geoffrey Chaucer’s The Merchant’s Prologue and Tale from The Canterbury Tales as part of A Level English is, undoubtedly, a daunting prospect for any Year 12 or 13 student. It is intimidating reading unfamiliar Middle English aloud in class (e.g. ‘fetisly’ – elegantly; ‘chidestere’ – nagging woman). However, despite initially seeming inaccessible, Chaucer is anything but elitist. In fact, the challenges of studying his work is what makes it continually surprising and rewarding. Stephanie Gartrell, Second in English KS4 at Wimbledon High School, explores the challenges and delights of studying Chaucer’s ‘Canterbury Tales’ in Sixth Form…

English students face the challenge of identifying a clear moral from the competing narrative voices throughout The Canterbury Tales. The frame narrative establishes the central plot: a socially diverse group of pilgrims travelling from Southwark to the tomb of Thomas Becket. En route, they initiate a rather profane tale-telling competition to liven up what is, ostensibly, a journey of spiritual reflection and penitence. The prize for the best story? A free meal at the Tabard Inn, Southwark, on their return. Thus, from the outset, a conservative framework of Catholic ritual is subverted by a much more anarchic series of interrupted tales. Many tales are replete with ribald vulgarity typical of the fabliau genre; others use Estates Satire to expose institutional corruption; several puncture courtly pretensions of more high-status literary genres or forms (fin amor, chanson de geste, sermons…).

Our text falls in the so-called ‘Marriage Group’ in which the Wife of Bath, Clerk, Merchant and Franklin share tales that directly rebut and challenge one another’s views on marriage. This further destabilises a clear moral message about what constitutes the ideal marriage or marital partner. Some critics, such as George Lyman Kittredge, perceive the Franklin’s final message of mutual love and respect to be closest to Chaucer’s own views (‘We need not hesitate, therefore, to accept the solution that the Franklin offers as that which Geoffrey Chaucer the man accepted for his own part…’). However, there is a residual sense of irresolution on the matter. There is no authorial intrusion or omniscient narrator to clarify our ‘take-away’ message before the Tales move on.

Chaucer also builds a tantalising pattern of parallels and contradictions within The Merchant’s Tale itself. For instance, the Merchant’s Prologue reveals the Merchant to be unhappily married for ‘Thise monthes two’, describing marriage as ‘the snare’ and yearning to be ‘unbounden’. Nevertheless, his tale begins with a disconcerting eulogy lasting 135 lines in praise of marriage. This eulogy is generally perceived as a ‘mock encomium’, satirising the foolish naivety of the aged knight January whose idealised and blinkered view of matrimony as a ‘hooly boond’, echoes the Merchant’s earlier image of wedlock as a binding ‘snare’ or trap, transforming it into a sacred tie. Similarly, January’s vision of a wife as his ‘paradis terrestre’ (earthly paradise) ironically subverts the Merchant’s description of his ‘wyves cursednesse!’ The fact that large sections of the mock encomium are neither direct nor reported speech further blurs to what extent we are reading a filtered version of January’s beliefs, or whether the ironically inappropriate Old Testament examples of female virtue (Eve, Judith, Abigail…) are supposed to express the Merchant’s misogyny to the reader.

To summarise the plot of The Merchant’s Tale very roughly: after 60 years as a promiscuous bachelor, January finally decides to marry a teenage bride named May. Whilst his concerns are partly economic (to beget an heir), his primary motive is to legitimise his lustful desires and protect himself from sin. January is comically specific in his ideal bride: ‘She shal nat passe twenty yeer’ and he refuses to marry any ‘woman thritty [thirty] yeer of age’, who he dismisses as ‘bene-straw’ [dried bean-stalks]. Chaucer swiftly debunks any notion of January embodying chivalric values of spiritual refinement, repeatedly applying the ironic epithets ‘gentil’ [refined] and ‘noble’ to his protagonist, highlighting the absence of these stereotypical knightly qualities. Might this partly reflect some of the Merchant’s own social anxiety – a nameless member of the trading classes aggrandising his fictional self to the status of a knight? Or is the Merchant attempting to expose the fiction of aristocratic nobility to comfort his own wounded pride? Again, it could be neither or both!

In any case, January’s young bride May quickly establishes an affair with their servant Damyan. When January is unexpectedly struck blind, they capitalise on this opportunity to consummate their affair in a pear-tree in January’s private garden, at which point January miraculously regains his sight. With a bit of female ingenuity, May explains that his sight is still impaired and not to be trusted. The gullible knight accepts her explanation and continues to live in a state of prelapsarian Edenic bliss with his ‘paradis terrestre’ – remaining blind figuratively, if not literally…

One of the main pleasures of teaching and studying The Merchant’s Tale is because it is difficult. Ambiguities abound. For instance, who is in the ‘snare’ of marriage by the end of The Merchant’s Tale: May, who is largely voiceless and objectified, or January, the architect of his own trap, likely to raise an illegitimate son as his heir? Why would the Merchant present January as such a contemptible lecher if his main moral were to vilify wives? And are we imposing 21st values onto a 14th century text by casting May as a proto-feminist figure struggling for sexual autonomy?

And if that weren’t enough of a challenge, students compare The Merchant’s Tale to Oscar Wilde’s An Ideal Husband – a divergent text in form and context. An Ideal Husband was first performed on stage in 1895 for the Victorian elite at the Haymarket Theatre, whilst The Canterbury Tales is a narrative poem from the 1390s. However, despite the 500 year gap, both texts share a prescient (and hopefully timeless) interest in exposing individual folly and abuses of institutional power – whether religious or political. They mock moral hypocrisy and the false ideals perpetuated by those guilty of self-deception or duped by sentimental dogma.

Since all of these concerns are as pertinent today as they were for Chaucer and Wilde, it seems vital that students continue to engage with the delightful, troubling complexities of Chaucer’s work.

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“Why are German Kindergartens so successful?”

Germany

Sofia Justham Bello, Year 12, tells us more about a recent work experience trip to a Kindergarten in Germany, focusing on the differences in educational practice from her own education.

This blog is based on my work experience in a German Kindergarten in Schwäbisch Hall, Southern Germany, which was arranged by the Goethe Institut. The Goethe Institut promotes the study of German abroad and encourages international cultural exchange, through language lessons, lectures, courses and libraries.

I entered a logo-designing competition in September for the Friends Of The Goethe Institut London, and won, along with 9 other 16 year olds in the UK, a work-shadowing trip to Germany. I worked at a Kindergarten which had children from ages three to six (it involved a lot of singing, going for walks in the forest, and even carpentry!) I really liked how the children there had the freedom to play and the multi-cultural aspect of the Kindergarten was uplifting, given events that are happening in the world today. I also might want to work in education so it was a useful experience.

The system of the German Kindergarten is important to understand why my work experience there was so inspiring. It is commonplace knowledge that the actual word “Kindergarten” in German, literally denotes as a “children’s garden”. Kindergartens were established as a pre-school educational approach based on social interaction through singing, playing and more practical activities such as painting, and arts and crafts.

Arts and crafts: “Basteln” are very important to German Children and integral to German culture; when I worked at the Kindergarten the children were preparing “Laterne”, lanterns, for the traditional festival for children- ‘St. Martin’s Day”; whereon the 11th of November Kindergarten children walk the streets holding their lanterns that they made.

These creative teaching methods ensure that children interact with others and thus transition successfully from home to school.

Historically, such “institutions” for young children originated from Bavaria in Germany and arose in the late 18th Century in order to help families support their children whilst both parents worked. Nonetheless they were not called “Kindergartens” at this point. In fact the term was later coined by Friedrich Fröbel who created a “play and activity” institute in 1837. He renamed his institute Kindergarten in 1840, reflecting his belief that children should be nurtured and nourished “like plants in a garden”.

This idea of children flourishing “like plants in a garden”, and the independence connoted with this image, was evident in the Kindergarten that I worked in in Schwäbisch Hall. On arrival I noticed the immediate differences between my nursery experience, and the “Kindergarten” experience the children were receiving in Germany. The teachers working there were shocked that I began school at the age of four, whereas in Germany, Kindergarten is a process that goes from ages three all the way up to six year olds. The site also had a “Kinderkrippe” upstairs, which is a crèche, so essentially up to six years of your life could take place there, which is a huge part of your childhood. Hence the responsibility the teachers have to shape their childhood is huge.

The teaching approach there encourages the young children to think and act independently. Moreover there is a huge focus on nature, and everyday the children would go on a walk and thus connect with nature. The first day was “Waldtag”, day of the forest, which is a national scheme run by the government to encourage children to explore German forests. We spent a long day walking, running, and feeding animals, like goats and sheep. In the afternoon we stopped to have a break and the children were able to play. One child approached me repeatedly saying the word “Säge” which means a “Saw”; I thought that this had got lost in translation, but to my surprise the children began to saw at the forest ground, constructing small houses out of branches, with minimal supervision from the teachers.

It was evident, from just one such example that the children there have more freedom to play, no pressure to read or write (which naturally comes later on) and thus their childhood is extended and their collaborative skills are improved. The older children took care of the younger ones, and overall it was an extremely inspiring experience

Here is a link to the Goethe Institut Website: https://www.goethe.de/en/index.html

@German_WHS