Level, What Level?

Tribulations of a Primary School Teacher in the Valencian Community

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Andrés Rivera

I am a 54-year-old primary school teacher. I have lived through nine educational reforms, most of them while working in the classroom. Both my grandfather and father studied under the same single law. Whenever a new education law is passed, it is invariably justified by the claim that schooling must adapt to societal changes. If that were truly the case, then we must surely be living in an era of dizzying change to justify such a flurry of legislation.

However, I know for certain that my grandfather, upon completing his schooling — still a child at the dawn of the 20th century — traded his desk for the rueda de menar, a manual wheel used to braid esparto for Elche’s burgeoning footwear industry. And yet, despite this brief education, he was able to write in beautiful handwriting, perform arithmetic calculations, including decimals, and had knowledge of such things as the provinces of Spain. All of this in pre-Second Republic Spain. He witnessed Elche’s population increase eightfold and lived through the introduction and widespread use of electricity, motorised machinery, and running water — just a few of the profound changes, in addition to the social transformations he experienced.
My father, born in 1937, grew up in the aftermath of the Spanish Civil War. In his childhood, it was still common to see young farm workers walking barefoot, reserving their shoes for entering the town. Cars were a rarity in Elche at the time. Yet, by his fifties, Elche boasted one of the highest car-to-inhabitant ratios in Spain. By the time he was in his sixties, it had become normal for every individual to carry a mobile phone — a device that, in his youth, was reserved for government institutions and the wealthiest families. Honestly, I can say that my father and grandfather experienced far more radical social transformations than I ever have.

Now, turning to my own experience. The LOGSE (General Organisation of the Education System Act) came into effect during my time at university. When I first examined the Conocimiento del Medio (Environmental Studies) textbooks under this new system, I was struck by how they differed from those I had used during my years in the EGB (General Basic Education). Most of the exercises now consisted of simple questions, easily answered by scanning the text for a couple of keywords. There was no room for error. Nor did it require any cognitive effort beyond basic recognition. It was pure mechanism.

Naturally, with such a crude form of textual transfer — where the only task was to pick out a few words, without any need for interpretation — the assimilation of content is alarmingly shallow. Now, thirty-five years after the enactment of LOGSE, the majority of primary school teachers were themselves educated under this model. In other words, a large portion of today’s primary teaching staff struggles to explain core curriculum content with the necessary fluency. Even less so are they able to adapt their teaching methods on the spot or make effective use of resources in a spontaneous manner. I have, with painful regularity, observed a lengthy list of concepts whose mere explanation presents a significant barrier — often an insurmountable one — for many of my colleagues. This includes:

The main uses of the comma — enumerative, vocative, and explanatory; the causes of the seasons and the varying length of daylight; the nature of energy; social changes throughout history — all covered in Years 4, 5, and 6; the locations and names of Spain’s major rivers; the principal peninsulas of Europe; and a thorough understanding of the fractional number as part, proportion, and division…

We are facing teachers who do not know what they are supposed to teach. The result is a structural dysfunction that cannot be rectified, as it underpins every aspect of school life. It is at this juncture that one realises a significant portion of the teaching staff subscribes to the tenets of neo-pedagogy — not because of any reasoned conviction grounded in student learning outcomes, but because it provides a framework that absolves the teacher from the responsibility of actually teaching. The belief takes root that “other things” are more important, because imparting academic content — let alone doing so in an engaging, pedagogically sound way — has become an almost impossible, even humiliating, task.
At the risk of being accused of relying on anecdotal evidence, I will provide some real-life examples. Each of these is anecdotal in its own right, yes — but none should have any place in a properly functioning education system. Their mere existence, then, serves as damning evidence.

Northern Castellón. A colleague is responsible for teaching Science to several year groups. I notice that he always carries a book of home experiments in English. This serves as his main reference in every lesson. I have a word with him:
— I assume that after each activity, you explain the physical or chemical principle behind the effect they observe?
— Oh no, not at all.
— But you know it yourself, don’t you?
— Not really — he replies, unabashed.
In other words, he spent the year conducting cheerful “magic” sessions, as if he were a clown or magician at a birthday party — with no higher ambition than to entertain.

Vega Baja del Segura, Alicante. During a scheduled collaborative hour, I find myself with my female colleagues from the same cycle, cutting out heart shapes and decorating them with red metallic beads. I ask:
— What exactly are we doing this for?
— Oh, it’s obvious. We’re doing it to promote reading.
— Hang on… you’ve lost me.
— Yes, of course. The book they’re reading is about love. We’re going to stick these hearts on the doors and walls to encourage reading.
Here we have an example of propitiatory magic transposed into the school setting. The mere presence of heart decorations is thought sufficient to spark a love of reading. Good intentions are assumed to be the only ingredient needed for success.

During the 2020 lockdown, teachers varied greatly in their commitment to meeting educational needs, as the prevailing narrative focused on empathy with students during their enforced confinement. At the school where I worked, in the Marina Baixa region of Alicante, the prevailing idea was “no new material should be introduced” under any circumstances.
I chose to defy this directive. I believed that the greatest form of support and empathy was securing the pupils’ right to learn. My days were spent editing multiple videos after filming lessons, devising activities, sending them to parents, and later correcting the work. My workload amounted to 12–15 hours a day, weekends included. I was well aware that my colleagues were not even fulfilling their contracted hours, based on the minimal material I was receiving from the specialists for the pupils. Nevertheless, I continued. By June, the school management informed the classroom teachers that the remaining three weeks would be covered by the specialists, who would take a “competency-based” approach. The first activity proposed was: “Ask your mum or dad to take a photo of you and send it to the Music or PE teacher. We’ll make a display board with the images to reinforce our school community spirit”. I asked what competencies this addressed. The headteacher replied enthusiastically: “All of them”.

Bajo Vinalopó region, Alicante. Several teachers are discussing approaches to reading comprehension. A colleague suggests her own method: rather than having the pupils read aloud — since they are too slow and there is no time — she simply plays them the audio. Yes, you read that correctly. She was “teaching reading” without reading. At best, this amounts to listening comprehension, not reading comprehension.

Regrettably, I could continue citing instances of such blatant incompetence for many more pages. As I’ve said, these are specific situations — but then again, everything that takes place in a school is specific. The undeniable truth is that these situations and practices should never happen — not even as isolated incidents. They should be beyond the realm of possibility. The fact that, on the contrary, they are commonplace reveals inherent deficiencies — deficiencies rooted in university training and the earlier years of education. This severe dysfunction is not anecdotal. Nor is it solely the result of poor training. There is also a widespread belief that academic content matters little. This notion is perpetuated by the current LOMLOE, which, from its very preamble, champions a competency-based approach to the curriculum. And, as I have demonstrated above, this is what that approach looks like in practice in some schools.

Source: educational EVIDENCE

Rights: Creative Commons