"Dominus Fecit" - the Lord has made.

Fifty years on - standing on what remains of the steps to the
 main building. Flowers give a cosmetic tinge to what is now
 a graceless and tasteless educational factory farm.

Last week we had friends from Australia staying with us for a few days. Pat and I had been at teacher training college with Jacky in the mid sixties and soon after qualifying she emigrated to Australia. In the 40 plus  intervening years we have communicated regularly, visited each other in our respective countries and often relived our misspent youth in the heady days of the Beatle, Rolling Stone and Bob Dylan filled 60s! Jacky married Garry, an Australian, and they live in the wonderful city of Adelaide. While they were here, Jacky thought she might like to revisit the college we had attended all those years ago. It was a salutary reminder to all of us when we suddenly realised that it will be 50 years ago next year (2015) that we first met at what was then Nottingham teacher training college or Nottingham College of Education as it was called in those far off days. The college – now part of Nottingham Trent University – is only a couple of miles from where we live and over the past 49 years both Pat and I have visited many times to attend meetings and other local functions so we knew what to expect. We knew that it had changed mightily since our day.

Perhaps it was because on this occasion it was a nostalgic trip - a revisiting of a long past but well remembered part of our lives – this visit to the college with Jacky and Garry was, however,  different. As we drove up the entrance drive we were stopped 21^st century style by security and given a day permit. We followed the myriad of roads and signs to find our way to the visitor parking – Jacky occasionally exclaiming “I’m lost.......it’s all changed”. Indeed it had – and, of course, that is what you would expect after almost half a century. In our day it was a much smaller institution catering only for the training of teachers. Today, it caters for a multitude of disciplines and faculties – the education  section is only one part – and indeed, is concentrated in only one building. The rest of the large campus is a complex web of modern buildings, sweeping roofs, vivid colours, shopping areas, traffic humps, commercially sponsored buildings, and continual  redevelopment as the University grows further. In a constant state of change it seems to have no tradition, no solid foundation. It is a learning place not a place of learning. As we left the car we came across the occasional remembered building – the “boiler house” where the old college’s central heating was run from, one or two of the old tutors’ houses now converted for other use. We approached the main building – the centre of the old college – to find it half demolished as further developments took place. In fact it was hardly at all the place we had enjoyed all those years ago. As we walked along one of the paths we followed a student – wearing shorts, vest and his arms covered in tattoos and as we walked I reflected that the college and indeed higher education in this country has changed (in my view) in more ways than simply new buildings – and maybe something has been lost.

As it was in our day - the "Great Divide" goes off to the
right in the distance

In the UK higher education is a bit of a political and educational battle ground – students now have to pay very significant amounts of money for their courses which usually means they leave university saddled with huge debts. Understandably, therefore, they question : Are we getting value for money, do we have enough lectures, are the lectures providing what we want, is the accommodation suitable for our needs, which is the best course to guarantee us a job at the end of it? In other words it has become a consumer driven market. On top of that the name of the game as far of the higher education institutions are concerned is “bums on seat” – making themselves as attractive as possible to win the affections of both clientele and government funding. Higher education is now exactly the same as the supermarket where customers demand what they want and the universities, like supermarkets, strive to outdo each other to gain the custom and the money of these young people. As I looked around the college I could not escape the feeling that this was an educational conveyor belt – the educational equivalent of factory farming where young people came and were fed their globules of knowledge and came out at the end with a bit of paper but not an education. The place had no soul, no heart beat. No longer did all the students come and for a year or two at least were part of the college community by living in halls of residence  before they spread their wings and went into “digs”.

Now instead of halls of residence  students, if they live on site, they live in en-suite rooms with their flat screen TV/computer/mobile. In the centre of Nottingham, near to the main building of Trent University there is a commercially owned tower block providing student accommodation. Each time I pass I sadly read the garish advertising on the outside of the building:  “Each flat  fully furnished, with leather recliner chairs and flat screen TV and  with en-suite facilities  and shared kitchen area. The accommodation has a gym and supermarket on-site and is next door to The Corner House – a complex offering a brilliant selection of restaurants, bars and entertainment venues. Across the road is the Victoria Centre, home to upmarket department stores and high-street shops”.  Sounds wonderful – clearly what students 21^st century style want; but no mention of desks or library facilities or things to nurture the soul.  Just good access to designer shops, restaurants and bars! Why would you go into your college of university with all this available outside your front door. And if you don’t go into your university, except to attend the occasional lecture then in my world you would be missing a huge portion of what university is about – the social and intellectual life, the social and academic societies, involvement with like minded people, the opportunity for the institution and its members – both staff and fellow students  - to change you, in short to “educate” you. But instead, it seems today’s student all too often lives in their little en-suite world surrounded by all that they like and know – lap top, wi-fi, gym, designer shops, bars – and the university is just the learning place, not the place of learning.

As the campus is now - brazen and garish

I thought how in our day if one wanted to leave the college at weekend to visit parents, go on a trip somewhere we had to first obtain an exeat from our tutor giving us that permission.  I somehow think  that would be frowned upon by today’s youth – and definitely score against any university’s attractiveness if they tried to introduce it. As we stood outside what had, in our day, been the main college building I noticed that the steps leading up to it were now decorated with flowers – a cosmetic nicety to be sure. But maybe like so much in the modern world that was just what they were – cosmetic  froth hiding the basic tastelessness and gracelessness of the modern world. We stood in the foyer to the main building and peered through the glass doors into what in our day had been the college dining room -the place we ate breakfast, lunch and dinner. How it has changed. To be sure it is still a cafeteria  but now filled with garishly coloured plastic tables and along one wall banks of computers -  a far cry from the softly curtained and subdued  place that  we knew and  where one didn’t just go to eat – but to learn to be a person. Let me explain.

The college was opened in 1960. We went in 1965 and in those few short years it had  already established itself as one of the premier teacher training institutions of the country and a place highly thought of both academically and as a professional training centre for teachers. Without any doubt this was due to the efforts and skill of its first principal – Kenneth Baird, or “Yogi ” as we affectionately called him (after Yogi Bear who was a popular TV cartoon character at the time!). In the first  few years of the college’s life Mr Baird had established traditions, values and expectations that permeated the whole of college life and which made you very aware that your were at Nottingham College of Education and not just any college. When you arrived there you quickly got into the Baird way of doing things. Much of this we mocked – as teenagers that is what one does – but in our heart of hearts we all knew it was good. Mr Baird’s college didn’t just turn out academically good teachers it turned out mature professionals who within three years at college had turned from callow teenagers into young men and women who knew how to conduct themselves in any situation – personal, professional and social.

The students' common room 1960s style

I well remember the very first night at college. There was a “Formal Dinner” – yes, that was what they were called and attendance was compulsory. I sat there at a table with 7 or 8 other students and a tutor – I hadn’t a clue which knife and fork to use, or what I should say about the glass of wine that the tutor had provided. I watched others and learned. I learned over the next three years to feel at ease in this kind of social setting and to know the expectations and the mores. It was all so very new to me on that first night, and I know that was true about many of my peers – but we were on a learning curve which would give us skills and understandings that would serve us well for many years. Throughout our time at college every day of the week the dining room served not only as an eating place but as a social gathering place. It was not just a grab a tray and get your food place – the equivalent of McDonald’s which is what I thought of as I gazed through the glass doors of the place last week. No, it was a dining room where one “dined” chatted over a meal, said grace, largely spoke in whispers – and dressed for dinner. Each day one could have “cafeteria service” if one wanted an early meal because of some evening commitment. Or, you could opt for dinner service at 7 pm where one was expected to dress properly, sit in a pre-arranged group and maybe take a bottle of wine. At 7 pm Mr Baird and members of staff would file into the Dining Room, all we students would stand and when everyone was at their place Yogi would quietly say a short grace followed by “Dominus fecit” ("the Lord has made", the motto of the Baird family) or “Tempus fugit”. At the end of the dinner, as plates and dishes were being cleared Yogi would again stand and quietly say “Gentlemen, if you must you may” – the students were being given permission to smoke if they wished. Once a week – every Tuesday – there was a Formal Dinner. You didn’t have to go to Formal Dinner every week but had to attend a certain number – sometimes these would be times when you would meet with other members of your various teaching groups or celebrate some special occasion. At Formal Dinner evening dress was required and expected.

All very old fashioned, twee maybe, and some might say quite out of sync with the heady and revolutionary days of the swinging sixties but no, it was appreciated and respected by all. We all knew that we were being prepared to become teachers, maybe head teachers or even more. We were gaining experiences and know how that most of hadn’t had at home – it was widening our horizons. And that is after all the basic thing that any educational system must do. If it doesn’t do that it is not “education” it is simply training – sadly what schools and colleges have largely become in the modern UK – training institutions not educational establishments. The schools of Michael Gove and of the National Curriculum and of OFSTED are places to get a certificate of your competence in some form or other – be it a level 4 SAT at 11,  a clutch of GCSEs at 16 or a 2:1 degree at the end of your university – and you can do all these things and still be the same person, because all you have done is an academic course and learned to get the right answers. Education is more than that. I well remember when, a few years after leaving college as a young teacher I attended a number of residential courses in venues across  the country. These were organised by HMI (Her Majesty’s Inspector) – the highly regarded School Inspectorate. Places on these courses were like gold dust and those running the courses were often national or international figures. I still remember standing having pre-dinner sherry with the other members of the course and various senior HMI. I felt comfortable being able to converse with these people and to be in their company and, as I stood there, I remember  saying a silent “thank you” to Yogi Baird and what he established for preparing me for this.

Ready for formal dinner

Times have changed. In thinking about this blog I dug out a letter that I found in my mother’s items when she died. It wasn’t new to me I had seen it many years ago. It was a letter sent by Mr Baird to the parents of all new students who would be coming to Nottingham College. Today it looks very dated and I suspect any 18 year old today would be horrified to read it. It speaks of a bygone age and long forgotten beliefs and expectations. In my view it also speaks of a greater vision and understanding for what should be expected of and presented to young people. I was a little older than the average trainee teacher when I went to Nottingham College of Education – having trained as a draughtsman for a number of years I was already 20 when I went to college. But despite that my parents still got this letter and I know they appreciated it greatly. It is too long to quote in full – three pages of “foolscap” – remember that, how strange the dimensions of foolscap look today! All tightly typed – no rushed photocopying, no cosmetic logo or advertising and above all no impersonal computer template. It was a personal letter to my parents.  Mr Bird speaks of welcoming me and committing himself to “ensuring three years of hard work, interest, excitement and happiness” – well he certainly did that. He advises my parents about the financial arrangements and support I will require and about they should try to ensure that I am wise in my use of funds. He talks of the reading lists that I will be sent and how they should try to ensure that I fulfil the various tasks on them prior to arriving at College. He talks about the many games and entertainment opportunities that will be available and how he hopes I will play a full part in the sporting and cultural life of the college and he then goes on to mention sex! “Where a large number of attractive young people are together inevitably they will form friendships with members of the opposite sex. I do not regard this as a bad thing.......I will treat them as adults.....they are starting their independent lives  and I have no doubt that you will speak to them about the need for self control.....In three years’ time they will themselves be in charge of classes of young people. They must have achieved their own moral standards before they can teach them to others in their care ”  Mr Baird then goes on to discuss the various medical facilities at the college and how in an emergency situation he would act in loco parentis  should any crucial decision need to be made about my welfare and my parents might not be immediately available. Finally he talks about a number of other things - how any motor vehicles must be registered at the college and how my parents must provide a written consent to my riding pillion on a motor bike or where and when trunks might be stored and what parents should do if they have any concerns.

 The letter looks terribly dated today – but it strikes just the right note. I know that my mother was pleased to receive it and I’m sure today any parent would still be pleased to receive the information and advice that Yogi set to paper. And it wasn’t all talk. He was as good as his word. We all knew what the rules were and although as young people there was much “testing of the water” we were allowed to develop and grow and change within the context of what had been imposed and was expected.

As we stood at the front of the main college building we looked down what was, in our day, the main drive of the college – the “Great Divide” as it was called. In those far off days the halls of residence fell on either side of the drive – women’s blocks on one side men on the other. Members of the opposite sex had to be on their own side by 10 pm each night under peril of expulsion. If a party was to be arranged we could apply for an extension on that rule but, whatever, the main drive, the Great Divide, was patrolled from about 9.45 each night by one of the college’s wardens. Any parties were checked to make sure that the required permission had been granted (usually an extension on the time limit till 11 pm). Yogi’s word in action.  We were being treated like adults, given certain freedoms but expected to obey the rules – all of which seems a pretty basic rule of all societies to me. Sadly, I too often ponder that today we may have forgotten that.

Our three years at college gave us so much – and I suspect the least important part was the academic stuff. Yes we worked hard and I think it was true that such was the college’s reputation in those early days that all those who gained a place did so on merit. Yogi Baird’s institution turned out a stream of high quality young teachers who were grabbed by schools and I know quickly rose to senior positions in both schools and wider education. But, it also turned out young people who were ready as Mr Baird said in his letter “themselves ready to take charge of young people”  We were expected to and had been given the opportunity to develop the personal, social, cultural and moral skills to enable us to take our place in our chosen profession, we had not been trained to be a teacher but educated  in the widest possible sense for life. Nottingham College of Education under Kenneth Baird’s leadership wasn’t the hallowed corridors of Oxford or Cambridge but like these two institutions it gave me and many others a framework for life. His family motto, Dominus fecit - what the Lord has made - was almost a metaphor for him and what he created and which benefited so many.  And for that I will be eternally grateful – it broadened my horizons and allowed me to enter a different world. I didn’t just get a teachers’ certificate when I left, I got a passport for life.

I’m not sure that the quick fix training of today’s schools and campuses and the obsession with certificates and value for money education  as the marker of an “educated person” can or will provide the same opportunities and results. The en-suite flats, the access to designer shops and bars, the flat screens the leather recliners or the McDonalds like educational factory farm campuses merely, it seems to me, give the young students of today what they like and know – wine bars, the flat screens, Wi-Fi, gymnasiums, designer shops and the rest. They will attend the university, go to all the lectures, pass the exams and leave with their certificate - but little else. Like a visit to an educational  supermarket they will emerge with their value for money training and  with their degree tucked into their bags but  I fear they will  not have been changed.