End of selection
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When
the fifth
Rector, Mr James Hamilton, was a mere assistant teacher in the west
coast of Scotland he found it necessary to move to a larger school in
order to broaden his teaching experience. Before leaving his first
school, however, he was given some sage advice by that traditional
source of worldly wisdom - the school janitor: You'll
be a Rector yourself one day and, when you are, just remember one thing
- if something works leave it alone. In September, 1969
the janitor's prophecy was fulfilled when Mr Hamilton succeeded Mr Hope
as the fifth Rector of the Harris Academy. Nor was his advice forgotten!
The new Rector was conscious of the weight of tradition which had been
established by his predecessors and was determined that the standards
and values which were an essential part of the Harris tradition would be
maintained. This was not to be
an easy task, for fundamental changes were underway in the structure of
education throughout Scotland. Some of the features which had
characterised teaching within the Harris since its inception had already
begun to alter in response to the changing views of society. Almost
twenty years before, for example, an innovation had been introduced
which seemed to question the traditional organisation within the school: In
the last week of February an experiment was carried out in the school.
This experiment consisted of mixing the boys' classes with the girls'
classes. Of course this plan like any other had its advantages and
disadvantages, for instance, the passing along corridors must cause
quite a disturbance, but, on the other hand, it lets each class know the
standard of the other. Already, the scheme is most satisfactory and in
years to come I believe it will be one of these ideal things. The scheme
only includes the primary classes for the experiment has yet to be
introduced to the Higher Grade. I suppose it will eventually reach the
Secondary Department. The
author of these sentiments was correct when he assumed that such a This
was merely the precursor of a more dramatic change
- the introduction of a mixture of academic abilities into a single
class. The original experiment of 1952 had been a response, not to a
firmly-held belief in the benefits of a mixed class, but to a report by
H.M. Inspectors which had criticised the range of abilities to be found
within a single-sex group. Rather than being an attempt to introduce a
co-educational primary class, the introduction of mixed classes was
merely a form of academic streaming, intended to ensure that each
primary group was composed of pupils of the same ability range. Many
years later, combined classes of boys and girls became the norm but the
justification for such a change stemmed from a considerably different
viewpoint. The
traditional pattern of education in Scotland had long been one of
selection according to ability. At the end of primary school, each pupil
would sit the Qualifying exam
- the dreaded "Qually" - and children would be assigned to
either senior secondary or junior secondary schools on the basis of the
marks attained. By the mid-sixties, the wisdom of such a policy was
being questioned. Should a child be designated a "first-class"
or "second-class" pupil at such an early age? Were the
problems being experienced by many schools, and perhaps by society as a
whole, the result of such a drastic selection process? Such questions
were long debated before a radical change was introduced. Instead of an
early process of selection which was likely to determine a child's
future, every child was entitled to an equal opportunity within a system
of comprehensive schools. This change was introduced gradually and the new first-year intake of some three hundred comprehensive pupils entered the school in August, 1973. No longer were first year classes drawn up according to sex or supposed ability, but instead the children were grouped into twelve mixed-ability classes of both boys and girls identified by their house labels. It would be wrong to state that this change did not have its opponents. As in most schools throughout the country, the Harris had its prophets of doom who foretold disaster in terms of both academic standards and general behaviour. The Rector was not numbered amongst them for he was determined that all pupils, regardless of ability, should feel that the Harris was "their school". A vital part in ensuring this was to be played by the annual visits to Falkland.
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