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- Herausgeber: Independent Thinking Press
- Kategorie: Bildung
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016
Trivium in Practice brings together a series of case studies written by educators who were inspired by Martin Robinson's first book, Trivium 21c. Taken together, these case studies reveal how, regardless of setting or sector, the trivium can deliver a truly great education for our children. Great teaching has the three elements of the trivium at its centre. Grammar: foundational knowledge and skills. Dialectic: questioning, thinking and practising. Rhetoric: the ability to express oneself beautifully, persuasively and articulately in any form. The trivium is a helpful way for a teacher to think about the art of teaching. Through the model of the trivium traditional values and progressive ideals can coexist; both knowledge and cultural capital matter and skills are interwoven with content. The trivium isn't a gimmick to be imposed on to a curriculum; it is a tried and tested approach to education. It is the key to great teaching and learning, as this group of educators discovered. The case studies are from Tom Sherrington, Sam Gorse, Nick, David Hall, Nigel Matthias, Nick Barnsley, Mike Grenier, Nick Rose and Carl Hendrick. These educators have found that trivium education has brought a range of tangible benefits for their students. These include: greater confidence, enhanced development of rigorous analytical skills, improved oracy and confidence in speaking in front of audiences, an appreciation of the value of acquiring and applying knowledge, refined skills in questioning and debating, developed creativity, independence and critical thinking, the ability to form and express considered opinions and, importantly, the enjoyment of learning. Fundamentally, these educators have found that the trivium has helped them to define and deliver their ideas about the education they want for their students, helping them to become engaged, lifelong learners in the process. There is no one 'right' way to 'do' the trivium: it is a tradition that can be adapted. It is the art of education and engages teachers in the art of being educators. Just as each great artist learns from a tradition and refashions it, adds to it, disrupts it, so do the teachers who have contributed to this book. On their canvas, in their school, each contributor is creating and re-creating trivium education in their own way. Discover the potential of the trivium and be inspired to do the same in your own classroom. Suitable for teachers and leaders in any educational setting.
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Praise for Trivium in Practice
Trivium 21c is an educational masterpiece, a book which presents the very nub of education in a hugely entertaining form. This sequel, Trivium in Practice, is a collection of essays by practitioners who explain how teachers might make real the theoretical model of the trivium. Tom Sherrington’s practical application of the trivium in an inner-city London comprehensive school is brave, true and inspirational. Mike Grenier’s short history of trivium-related pedagogy at Eton is a delight. Carl Hendrick’s contribution is typically intellectually challenging. The final chapter, which details Dr Jonathan L. Taylor’s work at Cranleigh School, should give hope to all of us who yearn to educate our students, not school them to be qualification hoop-jumpers. This is a book whose time is now, which reflects the courage of practitioners who can rightly call themselves educators.
John Tomsett, Head Teacher, Huntington School
With Trivium 21c, Robinson did something rare: he wrote something new about education based on ideas that were centuries old. With Trivium in Practice he brings that into the classroom. Together, these two books should be compulsory reading for any teacher entering the profession, and every teacher within it.
Tom Bennett, founder of researchED and behaviour advisor to the DfE
Trivium in Practice is a great book that forces us to think about what students need to learn at school. Building on Trivium 21c which successfully yokes medieval and 21st century ideas together, this field book lets us see how practitioners from different sectors have successfully combined the trivium with their own beliefs and traditions. We need students and teachers who speak and think and write with the clarity of philosophic understanding which Robinson shows so well. Teachers will immediately be able to see how they can adapt and use these ideas.
Professor Bill Lucas, co-author of Educating Ruby: what our children really need to learn
We all grow tired of hearing this or that book is a ‘must-read’ for all interested in education. Most of the books are, to be honest, ephemeral. But this book is different, about the profoundest idea in education, and how to mobilise it in today’s schools.
Sir Anthony Seldon, Vice-Chancellor, The University of Buckingham
Anyone hoping for a how-to guide or a template on ‘doing’ the trivium will be disappointed; this is not that. Instead, Robinson has edited a collection of thoughts, discussions and approaches on how grammar, dialectic and rhetoric might be brought together and adapted to fit in any setting.
David Didau, education blogger, author of What if everything you knew about education was wrong?
By embracing the tension in the discourse between education’s traditionalists and progressives, Martin Robinson brings the liberal arts trivium into the 21st century. This latest instalment presents a valuable compendium of real-world examples of practice that teachers and school leaders interested in nurturing autonomous learners will find invaluable.
Graham Brown-Martin, author of Learning {Re}imagined
To all the Philosopher Kids.
Acknowledgements
Firstly, thanks to the tireless dedication and patience of those who contributed to the book: Tom Sherrington, Sara Stafford, Andrew Fitch, Marie Deer, Becky Hulme, Ruth Ramsden-Karelse, Sukhi Dhillon, Sam Gorse, Nick Wells, David Hall, Nigel Matthias, Nick Barnsley, Mike Grenier, Nick Rose, Carl Hendrick, John L. Taylor. To all the other people who supported them in the writing of this book. To all at Crown House for their continued belief in the trivium by bringing this project to fruition. Finally, to those early reviewers whose comments have helped in the shaping of this book.
Contents
Introduction
‘During our first meeting we discussed the scope of this seminar, and we decided that we should limit our study of the medieval Latin tradition to the first three of the seven liberal arts—that is, to grammar, rhetoric, and dialectic.’ He paused and watched the faces—tentative, curious and masklike—focus upon him and what he said.
Williams, 2012 [1965]: 136–137
Trivium – where the three ways meet. The three ways are grammar, dialectic and rhetoric. Dialectic is sometimes referred to as logos or logic. These three ways formed the basis of the medieval liberal arts curriculum and were the core of a good education from ancient Athens through to our contemporary liberal arts institutions and schools. Rather than being ‘planned’, the three arts were drawn together by chance and tradition – yet, at their core, lies an uneasy truce between truth, critique and articulate opinion. This difficult relationship is the key to unlocking understanding, creativity and independent thinking and learning. It is the key to an education of ‘character’ – and, when drawn into the teaching of subjects, it is the key to great teaching and learning, not as an imposition but as part of the tradition of teaching and learning itself. The trivium isn’t a gimmick to be imposed on to a curriculum; it is a tried and tested approach to education. It is in the ‘blood’ of teaching and learning:
Knowledge, Questioning, Communicating
Or, as Sir Anthony Seldon put it in The Times (Tuesday 16 February 2016):
Education in medieval times was based on the ‘trivium’, with students learning facts (grammar), the ability to argue (logic), and how to communicate (rhetoric).
When one expands this into grammar being foundational knowledge and skills; dialectic being questioning, thinking and practising; and rhetoric being to express oneself beautifully, persuasively and articulately in any form, then one can begin to see how great teaching has these three things at its centre.
When one sees rhetoric as reaching out to the world and bringing things together, and dialectic as examining, thinking, looking at differing viewpoints and ways of doing things and developing one’s opinions and individuality, and grammar as being the best that has been thought, said and done, one can start to see how it might work in the classroom.
The teacher holds the baton of valued knowledge. They pass this baton on to a child, and the child and teacher hold the baton together for some time, tussling with and arguing over the valued knowledge to reach some understanding of it, while developing the child as an individual – not swamped by valued knowledge but equal to it. Finally, the teacher lets the baton go, for the child to run with it, to express themselves in their studies, to reach out to the community, and make their own way, developing their own character and thinking. The opportunity is there for the child to grow and add to the best that has been thought, said and done. As C. L. R. James (2013: 119) put it:
The end towards which mankind is inexorably developing by the constant overcoming of internal antagonisms is not the enjoyment, ownership, or use of goods, but self-realization, creativity based upon the incorporation into the individual personality of the whole previous development of humanity. Freedom is creative universality, not utility.
James, Modern Politics
The pupil is expected to develop both as an individual and as a member of their community. As the basis of the liberal arts, this is an education for ‘freedom’. This is not an education that expects children to follow a preordained pattern, but one that ensures they have the wherewithal to join in with what Michael Oakeshott referred to as ‘the conversation of mankind … perhaps we may recognize liberal learning as, above all else, an education in imagination, an initiation into the art of this conversation…’ (Oakeshott, 1989: 39).
It is the conversational classroom and the adventures that might be had within this space that are at the heart of the trivium. Debate, dialogue, reading, writing, critical thinking, creativity, self-expression will all feature in this classroom. The importance of memory, of ‘knowing’, is the base of this, but it is only part of the story. From knowing, through practice and critique, to flourishing, simple ways of thinking about the curriculum can unlock complexity due to the unique tensions between the three arts of the trivium.
There is no one ‘right’ way to ‘do’ the trivium: it is a tradition that can be adapted to time, to places, to different habits and ideas. This is its joy – and also its annoyance. How much easier it would be for a school leader to ‘buy’ a way of doing it and inflict it upon her staff, students and parents.
The trivium is a glorious human accident: contradictory, yet it is the art of education and engages teachers in the art of being educators. Just as each great artist learns from a tradition and refashions it, adds to it, disrupts it, so do the teachers who have contributed to this book.
I don’t agree with everything written here; there are things I would want to do differently, but on their canvas, in their school, each contributor is creating and re-creating trivium education in their own way. I hope you will be suitably inspired to do the same in your own home, your classroom, or in your own school.
References
James, Cyril Lionel Robert (2013) Modern Politics. Oakland, CA: PM Press.
Oakeshott, Michael (1989) ‘A Place of Learning’. In Timothy Fuller (ed.), The Voice of Liberal Learning: Michael Oakeshott on Education. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, pp. 17–42.
Seldon, Antony (2016) ‘We’ve degraded education in the hunt for A stars’, The Times (16 February).
Williams, John (2012 [1965]) Stoner. London: Vintage.
Chapter 1
Teaching: the Great Debate
One way to think about how the trivium might work in a classroom is to think about how it can be used to teach a topic. For this task I have chosen a simple idea that involves a debate to which there is no clear right or wrong conclusion. If we were to follow trivium principles, we would expect to do something along the following lines:
Grammar: The facts of the topic. Dialectic: The argument(s). Rhetoric: The pupil’s expression of their own opinion about the topic.
Notice here that the opinion comes at the end of the process. I often get into trouble by saying we’re not interested in pupils’ opinions … until I add the yet. For example, I used to teach something and ask pupils’ opinions about it straight away. This yielded responses that, though they may have been varied, were often instant reactions to something ‘unknown’; something which often results in a negative or not altogether enthusiastic response. The trivium works in a different way: this class, and teacher, are only interested in educated opinions, and welcome a broad range of opinions, as long as they are backed up by good knowledge of the debate and encourage pupils to bring their own self to bear within that conversation.
In many subjects there are texts that open themselves up to scrutiny and dialogue. Competing theories and ideas, intractable problems (both political and cultural), competing views of history, even business ideas and how best to manage a football team offer up opportunities where there is no clear-cut answer. Sometimes a single text has a debate running through it, or is open to a variety of interpretations. In theatre, the ‘grammar’ might be the script and also the work of the dramaturg finding out the facts about the play and its themes. The ‘dialectic’ would then come in through an investigation into the grammar – learning the script, practising, workshopping and rehearsing the script ready for the final ‘rhetoric’, or performance of the play to an audience. Even though the script is the same, no two productions of the play will be the same. The process opens up interpretations, and the same should be said for the process of learning in the classroom.
The text could be by Shakespeare, or by Virginia Woolf; it could be about the Civil Rights movement or about the Falklands War. It could be a discussion about the merits of 4-4-2 vs 4-2-3-1 in football, or a look at whether Darwin’s theories are useful in economics. Whatever your subject, there will be some opportunities to open up a text (or texts) to debate.
A Vindication of the Rights of Woman by Mary Wollstonecraft might be such a text. Straight away there might be a problem here, because much of what is included in this text might not be as controversial today as it was when it was published in 1792. Therefore it might not be a good text to choose for this approach – but that is not the point. The trivium can help people understand texts by testing out the strength of an argument within them, so that at first look they might superficially agree with them, at the end of the process they might know why they agree, and, what’s more, they might be able to bring their thoughts to bear in other scenarios. Wollstonecraft’s tome might be looked at alongside the work of John Locke and Jean-Jacques Rousseau. It could be looked at through the lens of contemporary debates about nature vs nurture, and also through contemporary feminist critiques about patriarchy. By learning the arguments, children would get a good grounding in the depth of the debate.
The next stage would be to get children to explore the debate through a technique known as a dissoi logoi. Through this method a pupil would be encouraged to look at two sides of an argument – or more – and be asked to write a single piece that gives equal weight to the ‘rightness’ of both sides. This is the process through which instant opinion is ‘shelved’ and stronger, educated opinion begins to be formed.
The grammar: learn about the text and its background. Learn about opposing viewpoints. The dialectic: bring those opposing viewpoints together in a piece of writing, weighing up the different facts and opinions in a dissoi logoi.
This could then become the basis for a Socratic Circle. The pupils sit in a circle, with the relevant text in their hands, and they discuss the text, responding to questions from the teacher and from each other. The point is to look at and explore ambiguities in the text, to test out its logic and, maybe, to seek to challenge it. The importance of this process, again, is the warding off of ‘opinion’, using instead ‘evidence’ (as written in the text) to justify opinions that each pupil may have. The teacher can play devil’s advocate and/or be a stickler for the use of ‘facts’ as evidenced in the text(s).
The grammar: knowledge of text(s) and other relevant information. The dialectic: a dispassionate look at the argument, drawing from knowledge (the grammar). A testing out of this argument through questioning.
This can be followed by formal classroom debates focusing on a question: ‘this class believes…’ and is one way of opening up the third part of the trivium, rhetoric. One can also begin to see how each part of the trivium overlaps with other parts. Pupils can write speeches and learn them. The teacher can tell pupils which side of the debate they will be speaking for beforehand – something which truly tests the ability to understand, use evidence and persuade others. Once the debate has been conducted, the final ‘rhetorical’ task could be set, which would be an essay stating the true ‘educated’ opinion of each child. This could be read out, open to debate, or remain in essay form to be questioned via a viva, or responded to in more conventional ways.
There are various ways to structure a piece of rhetoric and numerous methods that can be employed. What follows is a ‘classic’ structure which can be taught to pupils to improve both their spoken and written word work.
First, introduce the ‘five parts of rhetoric’. These are:
1 Invention
2 Arrangement
3 Style
4 Memory
5 Delivery.
Then explain what each one is. Again, I want to keep it simple.
1 Invention: this is the content of your speech and the drawing together of your ‘evidence’. It includes ethos, pathos and logos, the three musketeers of rhetoric. Ethos is your credibility. Pathos is the shared emotion between you and the audience. Logos is your use of reasoning and logic. This usefully models critical thinking.
2 Arrangement (the six parts of oratory): this can be a lesson in itself! I believe that if you teach this well, then not only will your pupils speak better, they will also be able to write essays better. Below is the ‘classic’ order for a speech, and it makes a great scaffold for an essay too:
i You begin with the exordium (or ‘hook’): this should catch the audience’s attention and it should also be central to your narrative.
ii Next comes the prothesis, where you present a short history of the subject that you are going to be talking about.
iii This is then followed by partitio (division): here you make the points which are uncontroversial and then the points which are contested.
iv Then confirmatio (proof): here you state the reasons behind your thinking.
v Next is the confutatio (or refutation): you go on to refute any opposing argument.
vi Finally, peroration, where you sum up the argument passionately and not by presenting a simple review.
3 Style: should the style of the talk be low, medium or grand? Low style is ‘down with the kids’; medium is probably the best for day-to-day speaking; but it would be good to introduce the ‘Grand Style’ of great oratory to see if pupils can lift the audience to a higher level through their eloquence.
4 Memory: as a drama teacher, this doesn’t worry me. I think sometimes it is good for pupils to memorize their speeches. It isn’t always necessary, but sometimes it can lift the presentation. Speaking from memory mustn’t be robotic, however; it must have sprezzatura: in other words, the speaker must allow their thoughts and ideas to inhabit them, so that they seem to spring fresh from their mind!
5 Delivery: you will need to work with your pupils on their delivery. This includes the use of space, positioning, posture, presence, communicating the feelings of honesty and truth, gestures, facial expressions and – crucially – the use of their voice: volume, pitch, tempo, pause and inflection are all important.
What you have just read is a classic trivium approach to studying a text or texts. However, I must emphasize that this process is not just one that fits snugly with the humanities and the arts. Every subject has its grammar; it has its logic; it has the need for practice and areas to analyse and debate; it also has its opportunities to ‘perform’ – whether on the sports field, in an exam or in the answering of questions.
The trivium is a helpful way for a teacher to think about the art of teaching, and can help in the design of a curriculum, when one is looking to achieve balance, increase student involvement and understanding, and develop creativity, independence and critical thinking (alongside the need for good academic knowledge and investigation).
Reading maketh a full man; conference a ready man; and writing an exact man.
Francis Bacon
Chapter 2
Philosopher Kids at Highbury Grove School
Tom Sherrington
Sara Stafford, Andrew Fitch, Marie Deer, Becky Hulme, Ruth Ramsden-Karelse, Sukhi Dhillon
Tom Sherrington has been the head teacher at Highbury Grove School (HGS) in north London since August 2014. He had previously worked as a teacher and school leader in a number of different types of school, in a career that started in 1987.
Highbury Grove is a mixed comprehensive of 1,200 students in Islington. The school has a diverse intake spanning the full range of social and ethnic backgrounds and pupils have a wide range of prior attainment on entry to Year 7. A very high proportion of students speak English as an additional language, and over 70% receive Pupil Premium funding.
In this chapter, some Highbury Grove teachers write about how the trivium came to influence their thinking about curriculum and ethos. Each member of staff has their own perspective on the value of the trivium in shaping their thinking as teachers and school leaders, and on the ability of the trivium to influence a wide range of different approaches. Their commitment to the idea of the philosopher kid shines through.
In this chapter we talk about how Trivium 21c has influenced our thinking about teaching and learning and the curriculum at Highbury Grove. More than that, it has influenced our vision for the education we want to provide, and the kind of young people we want to develop at our school. From the outset I want to be clear that we are on a journey that has only just begun. Many of the ideas we’ve explored are in their infancy and, if you came to visit, you might not yet be dazzled by the knowledge and rhetorical fluency of philosopher kids in every corridor and classroom across the school. Not yet.
It’s also important to stress that we’re not entirely starting from scratch. We’re building on some strong practice in various departments, and we are fortunate to have a staff body made up of enthusiastic, knowledgeable teachers who have had plenty of success in the past. To some extent, the power of Trivium 21c is that it brings coherence to a set of ideas that already make sense to most teachers, albeit elevating them to a higher plane of philosophical thinking. As a school that is fiercely ambitious for our students, we have now embarked on a gradual, deep change process that we hope will take the conceptual principles inherent in the trivium – the three arts of grammar, dialectic and rhetoric – and make them a tangible reality for every student in the school.
Already we have learned that, to give shape to the principles, you need some signs and symbols; some set-piece events and devices to move things forward. Even as I write, things are changing, new ideas are developing, and the trivium is finding form in classrooms across the school. However, we are conscious that the rhetoric is always far ahead of the reality. It’s important to keep things in perspective as the story unfolds. This isn’t the territory of quick fixes or top tips for teachers; it’s about taking some deep and powerful ideas and making sense of them in the complex world of an inner London comprehensive school where pretty much anything can happen. Above all else, the process is one of raising our sights and believing that every young person from every background deserves an education that can lead to fulfilment, enjoyment, enlightenment and success in the modern world. I’m convinced that the trivium provides a framework for creating a school that can genuinely deliver on that promise – and that is what we’re trying to do.
The notion of children becoming philosopher kids is highly emotive for us, and has great symbolic power. At Highbury Grove we get fired up by the idea that every child could be a philosopher kid. Over 70% of our students receive Pupil Premium funding; many of them experience disadvantage at a high level every day and face massive barriers. When we talk about these ideas, we are sincere in our mission to include every single student. A trivium-fuelled curriculum is for everyone, not just the elite band who fit the philosopher kid mould more comfortably through the advantages they have inherited. It’s the idea that the trivium represents an entitlement for all that inspires us. Every child can be a philosopher kid; that’s the dream we are chasing.
