“A system that weaponizes education into an instrument of silent subjugation”

A former trainee teacher at the flagship school of a multi-academy trust which has been at the centre of allegations of creating "emotional harm” in pupils –which the trust has said it does not recognise - has written a first-person piece on his experiences there.

The article, below, by Sylvain Savier was submitted to Education Uncovered before Christmas, and is based on Mr Savier’s recollections and diary notes of his time spent at Mossbourne Community Academy in Hackney, East London, during the 2015-16 academic year. Mr Savier worked at the school for a half-term during that year as a trainee teacher. His account begins with a description of events during a single day, during his time there. 

The Mossbourne Federation, which now runs seven schools in East London and in Essex, has been in the spotlight since the Observer ran a story in November alleging that pupils were “screamed at” by teachers at one of its schools, Mossbourne Victoria Park Academy (MVPA). Last month, BBC London reported that the Mossbourne Federation is facing allegations of presiding over a “toxic culture” towards its pupils, with more than 150 sources, many relating to MVPA and Mossbourne Community Academy, expressing concerns.

Also in December, the Observer reported that MVPA is to face an independent safeguarding review following the coverage.

Education Uncovered is publishing this first-person piece having approached Mossbourne Community Academy before Christmas with details of the article, and with an invitation to provide a response, of a similar length if necessary, to that printed below. I also posted a request on social media for people with more positive views on Mossbourne to come forward and share them. Neither request has so far been taken up. The Mossbourne Federation told the Observer in November: “We were saddened to read [negative accounts of pupils’ experiences] and we do not recognise the characterisation of the school.”

Last month, more than 300 parents of current and former pupils taught by the two Mossbourne schools wrote a letter to the Observer defending the federation, saying that the schools “change the trajectory of young people’s lives for the better”.

I remain interested in exploring both sides of this debate.

Sylvain Savier's piece is below: 

Mossbourne Community Academy is a school in Hackney where all classroom doors are always open. Today was particularly loud in this stylish, wooden, carpeted panopticon. During morning registration, a tall, bearded male teacher suddenly shouted at a Year 9 or 10 student, using the word ‘stupid’ at the top of his voice. This set the tone for my first day. No one in the adjacent teachers' office seemed to notice that the previously eerie silence had just been shattered. I had just witnessed my first glimpse of the Stockholm syndrome that allows Mossbourne Academy to turn a staff of many young educators into agents of oppression.

A few minutes later, I was giving an individual lesson to a sixth-form student in the library area, beneath the galleries circling the upper floors, where open classrooms were visible through their glass walls. It was nearly impossible to imagine a whole cohort sitting in silence, seemingly engaged in their uniformly formatted "Do-Now" tasks. After another outburst of shouting ripped the silent "learning atmosphere," my student explained in fluent French that the constant screaming of adults had been part of her education throughout her years at Mossbourne. As she quietly testified to the institutionalised fear, her description of the semi-carceral system mirrored the reality. "Do not TALK!" barked another sharply suited adult at a Year 7 boy who had the audacity to greet the accompanied visitor passing through the open plan.

In these sterile corridors of institutional conformity, where entire classes oddly line up and walk along the balcony corridors in single file, breaktime for the trainee teacher I was became a time for lonely reflection. Helplessness engulfs everyone within these walls. Soon, each minute of every day stretched like a tormented elastic, caught in the grip of institutional despair.

The period 5 incident happened next door to my classroom, with all doors open. The shouting invaded my lesson, forcing me to interrupt my teaching until the verbal abuse ceased. Another teacher was once again calling a pupil ‘stupid’ at the top of his lungs—not just in one sharp outburst, but in a prolonged, purposeful, vicious minute. I suddenly felt ashamed to be standing in front of thirty-one Year 9 students, trying to explain French prepositions while pretending that nothing had happened. A trembling silhouette of compliance, I couldn’t bring myself to look anyone in the eye. I felt a rush of anger and disgust as I met the gaze of the Head of Department at the back of the room, taking notes on my performance as though I were his would-be collaborator in a system that weaponizes education into an instrument of silent subjugation.

Mossbourne's leadership team can produce a range of evidence to support the claim that they have the children’s well-being at heart. However, none of the infrequent conversations I had with students support this claim. Mossbourne is a prison-school that subjects entire cohorts to repeated emotional maltreatment.

I met a Year 10 boy outside the school gates. He looked pale, angry, and had a nervous twitch in his eye. As I held the door for him on my way out, he thanked me and asked, "Are you a trainee teacher?" He then suggested that I should steer clear of the school. The blond boy looked shaken. "This school is overrated!" he cried.
'How long have you been here?' I asked.
'Four years, since Year 7... They think they can just change you, but they just can't!' he blurted out. As I walked next to him, not knowing what to say, he continued talking about his parents, how they'd been to good universities, and their expectations of him. But they didn't want to hear about his issues with Mossbourne. We parted ways, standing silently in front of each other for a few seconds. The anxiety he’d suffered had completely clouded this boy's future. The damage would take years to undo, I thought—if it could ever be undone.
‘Yet this school hasn’t broken your spirit?’ I offered.
‘They can try. They’ll never get me!’ he replied, defiant but helpless.

None of the conversations I had with police officers at Mossbourne support the idea that the school prioritises children's well-being. The police came to the school for talks about gang crime on a dedicated day off-timetable (PSHE day). The three officers I spoke with appeared bewildered at the sight of entire classes lining up obediently before silently following their next teacher. One of the officers remarked that he would not want to send his own son to Mossbourne, saying there ought to be “a balance between learning and happiness.” A young policewoman had her own account regarding emotional well-being at Mossbourne. She worked for the Trident Gang Crime Command, specifically visiting schools in and around London. Earlier, she had visited Mossbourne Victoria Park Academy, the sister school near Victoria Park. There, she said, discipline was even stricter—so much so that a student had been shouted at during her session, and she, a police officer, had noticed no misbehaviour at all.

As we walked back to the train station at the end of the PSHE day, the policewoman expressed the view that Mossbourne schools contribute to the problem of petty crime in the area. Teenagers, frustrated and angry, will seek outlets outside of school. Mossbourne doesn’t provide an environment in which students can safely explore the range of social interactions needed to become well-rounded individuals. In this way too, harm is being done to the children. She questioned whether Mossbourne was achieving the advertised objectives. As we parted company, we wondered if this could partly explain why Mossbourne was now opening primary schools.