In my school, everyone is in love. Not a corny American high-school infatuation with a classmate or even – heaven forbid- a teacher, but instead a strange sizzling affair with a subject: Maths. The head of department has garnered a bizarre cult-like following of whole-heartedly dedicated mathematicians, who worship with wide-eyed adoration at the altar of the temple of Maths: an institution of untouchable grandeur, unfailing logic and seemingly limited access. Yet: I don’t like it. The concept of a single correct answer, and a multitude of tick box calculations is not reassuring, but rather confining, suffocating. In spite of this, the sense of mystic allure surrounding Maths prevails, whilst English is not fortunate to be adorned with this type of kudos.
‘My English teacher begged me to take English, I was so good, but I said nah it’s rubbish.’ This was the casual degradation of the subject by one of my teachers. I said nothing, because to challenge this pompous contention regarding the laughable nature of English would render me fundamentally unlikeable in his classroom, a social pariah amongst my classmates. So, I sat, uncomfortable in the knowledge that this blatant ridicule of one of my favourite subjects was symptomatic of a much more widely accepted view. English was just not a real subject.
‘You can’t revise for English,’ seems to be a universal truth trumpeted by adolescents in the early years of secondary school: a glance at your folder the night before the exam should suffice, perhaps a scan through you notes if you wish to exhibit scholarly keenness, but not the vigorous practice and feverish flash-card making which characterises revision for so many other subjects, or the incessant paper-practicing which is promoted by aforementioned Maths-lovers. English is a subject of no substance, that involves arguing any point you want, because it is so subjective; in the Bancroft’s School bubble, this translates as a nothingness unable to be quantified by the confines of Maths.
And yet, the dismissal of English is not limited to Bancroft’s; The Guardian, in an article following the A-level results day in August 2019 confirmed a worrying trend with regards to the study of English: it is on the decline. Entries for English language plummeted by 22%, while almost 3,500 fewer students sat English Literature compared to 2018. In recent years, unremitting efforts to encourage women to pursue science and maths, have reduced the number of girls opting to study English, and yet, the gender balance shows no signs of evening out, with boys also opting to abandon English in favour of Maths, Science and Economics.
In private schools, we have a tendency to be consumed by a desire to scale the league tables as though they are a children’s climbing frame. A single institution: flaws, merits, staff and pupils reduced to a single number on a page, so one thing is essential: results must be impeccable. This is inevitably met with an unrelenting bombardment of demands from parents, all clamouring for the coveted grade 9 for their darling offspring, and commanding simple drawn out strategies to achieve this. English poses an issue; it is impossible to rote learn and regurgitate it, and those who lament it with such fervour are unwilling to concede this. In a society with an alarming propensity to present our lives as black and white an exam that requires some thinking for yourself will inevitably cause disquiet and alarm.
In spite of this, a vast and varied vocabulary will prove more successful in crafting a professional image in later life than the ability to quickly factorise quadratics. According to the national literacy trust: 16.4% of adults in England, or 7.1 million people, can be described as having 'very poor literacy skills.' This is undoubtedly inimical with regards to entering the job market, and ultimately, providing for yourself and your family.
In private schools, coursework is problematic: an injection of marks and merit as a lucky consequence of the privilege which buys you a teacher’s time, undivided attention and input. English depends on luck of the draw, and as Taylor Swift so aptly phrased it ‘luck of the draw only draws the unlucky’. Those who are not fortunate to have coursework as a requisite aspect of their specification face the strenuous task of striving to recall a plethora of quotations, poems and context, all in the cramped timing of horribly pressured exams. For those who view English as a ludicrous and disposable subject, it seems the pinnacle of naivety and poor judgement to expect this; efforts to make English more challenging and ergo more of a serious subject, merely have the opposite effect.
As discussed in the Guardian, the writer and poet Michael Rosen, who is the professor of children’s Literature at Goldsmiths, University of London, also stipulated that the new English literature GCSE veers more on the side of being “mechanical” and less about creative interpretation of books, and personal exploration of texts. It seems that to make English less laughable, we must make it more mathematical.
In an uncertain future, tainted by the manipulation of language in the media, and misrepresentation of statements by prominent individuals, an analytical and observant eye for detail with language is more of a valuable tool than ever, and if we choose to ignore this: then ultimately, our downfall is inevitable.
Florence Thomas
