Catalonia’s educational Neverland: The Institut-Escola model

To prolong indefinitely the sojourn of future generations in Peter Pan’s Neverland is to steal their future. / Photo: nini kvaratskhelia. / Pixabay

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Xavier Massó

I began what was then called Bachillerato—the lower stage of secondary education—at the age of ten. We had left primary behind and passed from being the oldest among the little ones to the youngest among the grown-ups. A true rite of passage. New classmates, new teachers, new subjects… Of course, there were always those who preferred to be a big fish in a small pond rather than a small fish in a big one, but we felt we were now among the “big ones”—or so we thought. And that was precisely what we wanted. Four years at primary, seven at secondary.

Then came the EGB→BUP/FP model: eight years of Educación General Básica (EGB) in primary, followed by four (BUP + COU) or five (FP1 + FP2) in secondary. And since the LOGSE reform, six years of Primary Education, then four of Educación Secundaria Obligatoria (ESO) and two of Bachillerato or intermediate vocational training (CFGM). In short: six years of primary, six of secondary¹.

These divisions are never arbitrary; at least in principle, they aim to mirror the “natural” stages of growth and intellectual and psychological maturity, in keeping with the notion of education as a progressive journey—step by step, in age and in curriculum. Educational ideologies also play their part, orienting the system towards certain goals. But when the ideology misreads the reality to which it is applied, the entire contraption collapses. To put it plainly: If, for instance, one believes that children should never be asked to learn to multiply—because it might harm their emotional well-being, because they will somehow pick it up on their own, or because multiplication is deemed unimportant—the outcome is predictable: no one will learn to multiply.

So, under the current model, pupils spend six years in primary school and another six in secondary. But in Catalonia—ever the avant-garde of educational experimentation—this arrangement was always destined to be short-lived. Indeed, it has long since passed its sell-by-date.

Some time ago, Catalonia’s educational visionaries detected that the transition from primary to secondary might cause traumas capable of leaving indelible psychological scars: new classmates, new teachers, division by subjects and, horror of horrors, the correction of mistakes in red pen (!). Heavens above! Who could possibly have imagined? “Correction” and “red”: a devilish combination. But had we not agreed to reintroduce Rousseau’s bon sauvage into our classrooms? And now that we were almost there—what a shock! —the children move up to secondary school, are seated in classrooms, told to keep quiet and listen to explanations that fail to spark their interest… Unspeakably traumatic for any soul of even minimal sensitivity.

Funny old world, but for reasons unknown, secondary teachers still cling to the idea, even in the twenty-first century—that school exists so that pupils might learn to read and write, to understand what they read and write, to add, subtract, multiply and divide, and even to engage with other such trivialities which, as we all know, contribute little to emotional balance or personal happiness of the youngsters. And, of course, after six long years of cutting and sticking paper butterflies in circles, rehearsing “natural” spelling, and organising winter solstice celebrations, Carnivals and summer camp, there has been precious little time for much else. Reading comprehension and basic arithmetic are not exactly areas of abundance—rather the opposite. Trauma, on a plate. How, then, to remedy such an outrage?

The Departament d’Educació has long had the answer, and has been “implementing” it— ah, this seemingly miraculous word—over the past years until it has become reality. But beware: nothing is as it seems. No effort has been made to ensure that Primary Education actually teaches what it ought to. Quite the contrary. The fault, it seems, lies with secondary schools. The chosen solution has been to soften and slow down this traumatic transition by allowing pupils to remain in primary schools throughout their entire ESO stage. In other words, to turn secondary education into an extension of primary. Hence the emergence of the instituts-escola.

Essentially, these are primary schools that organise and deliver lower secondary education according to primary-school principles and methods—principles to which the hapless secondary teachers assigned to them must adapt: “project-based learning”, “working within areas”, “discovery learning”, “flipped classrooms”, classrooms resembling picnic areas, and a proliferation of experimental pedagogies. Thus, pupils scarcely notice that they have moved on to another educational stage. To be fair, that part has been a resounding success.

One must add that secondary teachers assigned to an institut-escola find themselves in a position that is worse both professionally and contractually. Professionally, because they are subject to an inquisitorial supervision aimed at detecting and eradicating any heretical deviation from pedagogical orthodoxy; contractually, because they are often given primary-school timetables—complain, and you are marked—and split teaching days. Not to mention the primary teachers who teach secondary classes, which is manifestly illegal, yet carried out with the administration’s enthusiastic complicity. A genuine Wild West…

…And a giant leap towards the primarisation of secondary education and the fulfilment of the long-cherished wet dream of pedagogues and certain trade unions alike: a single, unified teaching body. Never mind that staff rooms and families are often opposed. Under the cover of darkness and with the law applied to suit themselves. And make no mistake—this is the chosen direction. To turn a blind eye is to be blind: for years now, virtually every newly created state school has been an institut-escola. Since ERC took charge of the department, the trend has been uninterrupted. True, ERC is no longer in office—but has anything really changed?

To make matters worse, doctrinaire pedagogical idealism now joins forces with pragmatic economic interest: with the falling birth rate, many primary classrooms have long been emptying. The same phenomenon is now reaching secondary education. But instead of seizing the opportunity to restore order to both stages—for instance, by reducing class sizes—the response has been to close state-school classes at both levels. Meanwhile, competitive exams for new primary teaching posts continue to be announced. Their destination is clear enough: in a unified teaching body, there’s no need for secondary teachers.

Perhaps beginning Bachillerato in my day at ten was premature; I would not deny it. We were treated as adults when we were not yet adolescents. It was, quite possibly, traumatic in some cases. But that was long ago—water under the bridge. And if the trend now is to treat adolescents and young adults as children, one can’t help feeling it was a bit like bringing a caravan to cross the street.

Yes, some were robbed of their childhood, admittedly. But to prolong indefinitely the sojourn of future generations in Peter Pan’s Neverland is to steal their future. In Neverland, time stands still; in our world, it does not. Arrive too early, and there is always time to wait; arrive too late, and the train has already left.

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¹EGB (Educación General Básica) was Spain’s compulsory schooling from ages 6 to 14, followed by either BUP/COU (Bachillerato Unificado y Polivalente / Curso de Orientación Universitaria), the pre-university track, or FP (Formación Profesional), the vocational route. These were later replaced by LOGSE reforms introducing Primary Education (ages 6–12) and ESO (Secondary Education, ages 12–16, plus optional 16–18).

Source: educational EVIDENCE

Rights: Creative Commons