Two striking stories involving teachers were published side-by-side in The Age last Monday.
One was moving, the other alarming. Both, in their own way, underscored the pivotal importance of fine teaching and well-resourced schools to the social and economic future of our nation, one of the world's wealthiest and most culturally diverse.
First, the moving one. Senior writer Konrad Marshall beautifully recounted a tale about the resolution of a crisis aboard a recent flight from Sydney to Melbourne.
A 14-year-old boy with Down Syndrome was travelling with his family. He was feeling increasingly air sick and decided to lie on the floor. Such was his determination and distress, he rejected entreaties by his parents and siblings to get back in his seat. Under the law, this prevented the captain from landing. The plane, running low on fuel, circled the sky above Melbourne, the chagrin and anxiety of the other passengers mounting.
The cabin manager put out a call. "Is there a special-needs teacher aboard?" Sophie Murphy stepped forward. During her two decades as a teacher, her roles included overseeing early years specialised education curriculum at Westbourne Grammar and Wesley College. Gently and expertly, she used her skills. The plane landed safely soon after.
Now to the troubling story. Education reporter Timna Jacks revealed an emerging divide in inner Melbourne state schools between white middle-class families and less economically fortunate families from the growing community of families from Africa. Timna wrote of "white flight" – unofficial segregation on the basis of race and wealth. The white middle-class families are shunning schools close to housing commission towers, schools where as many as nine in 10 students speak a language other than English at home.
It has got to the point where Abselom Nega, an Ethiopian refugee, community leader and board member of the Victorian Equal Opportunity and Human Rights Commission, says: "The white parents don't send their kids to these schools because all they see is black kids. They may not view it as racism, but it is."
While his claim is understandable, I would like to think he is incorrect. Parents, above all, want to give their children an opportunity to thrive and to explore their potential. I would like to think that those who might be taking their children out of these schools, or declining to place them there, are doing so in the misguided belief that children who speak a language other than English at home may somehow hold back overall learning in an English-language classroom. These parents are not bad citizens; they are seeking to be good parents and are concerned their children will not get adequate attention and tuition. Ultimately, it is a question of resources.
The mother tongue of two of my three children is not English and English is far from spoken all the time in our home. Our third child's mother tongue is English but he, too, is bi-lingual. All three went to a state primary school in Melbourne with a diverse ethnic and cultural mix. Indeed, around half the students in that school these days come from the French community and there is also a significant chunk from the Hebrew community.
My children all thrived in such an environment; indeed they got extra overall benefit precisely because of the mix and were well-prepared for secondary school. What helped it work was that the teachers adapted the curriculum to the cultural and language differences, enriching everyone involved. There were also teachers there who specialised in intensive teaching of English.
The day after the stories about education, Treasurer Scott Morrison delivered the Turnbull government's first budget. It increased spending on education but by nowhere near as much as had, in effect, been cut in the last few years despite rhetorical bi-partisan support ahead of the last election for the reforms recommended by businessman David Gonski. The most important idea that came out of Gonski's review of the education system was that too many children are being denied opportunity because funding is not being targeted on the basis of need.
Melbourne and other metropolitan and regional cities in Australia are growing rapidly. People arriving from overseas currently account for more than half of the growth in Australia's population. Melbourne has become the serial winner of the coveted title of the world's most liveable city. So much of the city's allure comes from its diversity. Promoting and buttressing that is central to our economic and social wealth. And that requires an education system in which the entire community can have confidence and pride.
Three years ago, I wrote a column advocating a sharp increase in teachers' pay. Our politicians are keen to laud teachers but less keen to pay them what they deserve. Teachers are among the most valuable members of the community, charged with huge responsibility. Yet their starting salary is not much more than $60,000 and those at the top of the profession, after years of service, struggle to make more than $95,000.
Not only is Australia a hugely wealthy nation, it is a relatively low-tax one and has ample capacity to provide the schools and education resources necessary to give our growing, multicultural population the proper opportunities to flourish and create the wealth that will more than pay off such an investment via higher and faster economic growth.
It is not just about rational economic policy, though. There is a social and cultural imperative, too. We need many people like Sophie Murphy. And all families in Australia should be able to know that no matter what the nature of the school population, the individual needs of children are being met. We have the models and the resources to achieve this. It is crucial and we can not permit our lawmakers to fail.
Michael Short is opinion editor of The Sunday Age. @shortmsgs
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