Part 2 Chapter 1: The beginnings

From my book 'School Portrait' (McPhee Gribble/Penguin, 1987)

As a young teacher in the early seventies, I gradually became aware that the children I taught seemed to use more of their natural intelligence, worked more on developing skills, and shed more of their defences, when they were pretending to be adults.

One Friday afternoon, in my second year of teaching, an eleven-year-old boy playfully put his head through a pretend noose, and said that he was hanging himself. We decided to put him on trial, and I watched as a class, which had been diligent but dull for most of the week, came alive. The 'lawyers' were inventive and articulate, and the jury members argued convincingly amongst themselves. The children were obviously playing, but I sensed that the trial was more than just a bit of fun. The imaginative energy released by those kids seemed somehow relevant to the academic pursuits I had been employed to foster.

The trial led to other experiments. I had done a Political Science degree at university, and had often visited the Parliament in Canberra. Perhaps, I thought, the drama of elections and the tension of Question Time might stimulate the children. I discussed it with them, we formed political parties, contested an election, and our class Parliament was born. Again the kids were animated, and soon parents were telling me that their children were talking about school with a new excitement, that they were following the news on TV and in the papers, that they were asking questions at home about taxes, social welfare, the dole and politicians' salaries.

Later that year we tried something new. We reorganized the classroom furniture to simulate a shopping centre, minted our own currency, and the kids bought and sold printed cardboard tokens, representing various goods and services. We called it our 'miniature city'. In subsequent years, at other schools including the AME, we dispensed with the tokens, and the children made simple toys, sewed leather shoes, cooked food, entertained and cleaned. One enterprising child brought his pet lizards to school, and ran a book on lizard races. Another asked his parents about the stock market, and made a small fortune selling shares in his food shop.

Each year brought new refinements to these simulated towns. We introduced historical settings, Elizabethan England one year and ancient Athens the next, and used them as a focus for research and discussion. And the physical setting became more elaborate as, each year, we became more imaginatively involved in the fantasy. First, the re-arranged furniture was covered with hessian and sheets of cardboard, on which the children painted signs and decorations. Then we designed a brick made from scrap cardboard, and persuaded parents to come to school one weekend, to make hundreds of them. The cardboard brick was a major innovation, as it enabled us to build shops of considerable durability, which the kids themselves designed.

These towns worked on many different levels for different children. For some, it was mainly imaginative play. I remember, for example, Anna's older sister dressed up as a fortune teller, and predicting my future love life, while other children strutted round as nobles or grovelled at the feet of the rich. Some children took a craftsman's pleasure building with the cardboard bricks. Others delighted in making jewellery or shoes, or preparing the food, and many were caught up in the commercial excitement of earning money. And we found that most children thrived on the social side of it all; tackling communal problems, advertising wares, plotting a rebellion, compromising, negotiating, and chatting with friends over a drink and a pikelet at the town's food shop.

By 1984 it had been three years since we'd built such a town at school. Allen had heard about them, but had never taken part in one, and we both felt it was time for another. He had woodwork and building skills which would be particularly useful, together with a commitment to classroom democracy and child-centred playmaking.

Each year there'd been a new development in the evolution of these towns. What was it going to be this time? We discussed our rough ideas with the rest of the primary staff and with the secondary drama teacher, Peter, who'd been involved in similar projects himself. He suggested that each child develop an imaginary character for themselves. In the past, the kids had kept their own name - Zoe, Anna's older sister, was a fortune teller, but she was still Zoe. This time, the kids would begin by making up a character, complete with name and family history.

Allen and I decided at the outset that this year we would build a village set in the Middle Ages. There was a wealth of material available about medieval times, and the structure of such a village suited our purposes well, with the lord of the manor (who, we decided, would be Allen) able to shape events and make initiatives when necessary, and also free to delegate authority to a steward or reeve, roles that would be taken by children. The villagers' feudal obligations to the lord would discourage idleness amongst the lower orders, and perhaps inflame resentments against authority and wealth. And the village would give us opportunities to reflect on religion and the Church, and provide us with a setting for ceremonies and games.

This decision to have a medieval village had a further implication: we would build homes rather than shops, and families would be the basic social unit, rather than guilds or professions. I was conscious that family courts are usually more emotionally charged than their industrial counterparts, and wondered, at the time, if this would be reflected in our village.

And so, even before we talked to the kids about the idea, Allen and I had made some big decisions. We could have (and have in the past) begun quite differently, by sitting with our group of forty-eight, and working out together the simulation's historical setting, the adults' roles, its basic social unit, and its timing. But we felt that such a task may have been too time-consuming and complex, particularly for some of the younger children. We knew, too, that our village project would give us opportunities later on for meeting problems and planning together, and that this would work better once the children's imaginations were engaged.

Our first major task was to find ways of involving the children themselves in the project, so that they began to feel that they were influencing its course, that it was their village. One morning in the second week of March, we introduced the idea to them. They sat on the carpet, and I stood at the front with some charts that I'd prepared the night before. There was an air of excited anticipation in the room.

'As you know,'I began, we're going to build a village this term. It's something none of you have done before, though some of your older brothers and sisters built a town which you may have visited when you were younger.'

'Yeah,' said Anna. 'They're really cool, unreal.' She rolled her eyes as if in ecstasy, and we laughed.

'Allen and I have been making some plans over the past week, which we want to explain to you now. If you like our ideas, then we'll go ahead. If you don't, then we'll have to think again.

‘First of all, we think it should be a medieval village, set somewhere in England about seven hundred years ago. This was the time of lords and barons, of knights and the crusades, of the Black Death. It was also a very religious age, when the Church was strong and when virtually everyone in England believed in God.'

I pointed to the charts. One showed the hierarchy and structure of a medieval village, with the lord (who owed allegiance to the baron and the king) at the top, followed by the steward, then the reeve and, at the bottom, the villagers. On another chart I had a list of the sorts of work the villagers did - farming, animal husbandry, candle-making, gardening, preaching, hunting, sewing, blacksmithing, bee-keeping, cooking, working for the lord, toy-making, tax collecting, copying manuscripts, playing music, hunting and fishing. Then I talked about monasteries, their place in medieval society, their independence, their hierarchy from abbott down to novice, and explained that we might have a monastery as part of our village, if there were children who wanted to be monks.

‘How do we actually build the village?' asked Chris when I'd finished. ‘I mean, I know we're smart and all that, I know we’re wonderful…’ He was enjoying the big group, as he usually did. 'But I don't think we could actually build a village without getting some help from builders, could we?'

‘We usually build our towns with cardboard bricks, boxes about twice the size of a shoe box which we make out of sheets of scrap cardboard. You'll be surprised, I think, to discover how easy it is to build sturdy buildings with them.'

'But how many will we need?'

‘Probably thousands, but the exact number will depend on the design for the village that you come up with.'

'Do we have to be in this village?' asked Paul. The question was not unexpected, given his ambivalence about activities initiated by someone other than himself.

‘There have been kids who worked in the library while a village was on,' I said, like your older brother once …’

‘I know,' said Paul. 'He thought the town was really boring.' .

‘.. but I think it's too early to be thinking about that now. Why not just wait and see how it turns out?' Paul looked unconvinced.

'How do we work out who does what in the village?' asked someone else.

I gave out a questionnaire, which asked kids to indicate what they'd like to do in the village, and who they'd like to work with. I explained that I would read through their answers that night, and from it I'd make a list of village families and jobs.

*Do we have to be in the families you put us in, Steve? Do we have to do the job that you write down?'

‘No, if you're not happy with either, then tell us and we'll see if it can be changed. But we have to be careful that we don't end up with a village with no peasants, or with so many tiny families that we won't have enough space to build a cottage for each.'

A child asked when we would start the building.

'It'll be another four or five weeks before we're building, I guess,' I said, and we passed around a booklet that Allen and I had prepared, outlining the many different activities the kids would be doing between now and then: the research into medieval life, houses, clothing, markets, fairs, crime, punishments, superstitions, medicines, games, toys, crusades, warfare and the plague; inventing names for themselves, their family and the village; writing stories; planning their house, the village's layout and making the bricks; working out the village rules; designing and making the currency; and acquiring trade skills so they could earn village money.

"Well,' I asked, when we'd finished reading and discussing the booklet, 'do you like the sound of it? Do we go ahead with the idea of a medieval village, or do you want to think more about it?'

'Go ahead... Let's get started …This sounds good!'

For the next hour or so, the kids sat in little groups or on their own, and worked on the questionnaires. Some of them, especially the younger kids, found it very difficult. There was so much to think about at once. Where should they start? Would they be held to their initial choices? How would they decide? Allen and I worked hard to calm these kids down, explaining that this was just a beginning, an exercise to get us started, and that there would be plenty of time later for second thoughts.

Despite these initial difficulties, the questionnaire gave the kids an idea of the different sorts of work possible, and they began to visualize the kind of village it would be. It also got them planning with each other, and talking to Allen and me about things that were on their minds.

Chris and Damien, for example, approached me towards the end of the session. 'Steve, can we talk to you about something?' asked Chris.

‘Sure, go ahead.'

'No, outside. This is private. We really don't want anyone else to hear.'

We left the room and sat on the grass together. I could see that they were both excited.

'Steve, we've been making some plans,' said Chris, 'but we don't know if they're OK. If we tell you something, will you promise not to mention it to anyone?'

"Well, I may talk to Allen, but I know what you mean. I promise?'

'Is kidnapping allowed in this village?'

‘What do you mean? What have you got in mind?'

‘Well, we were thinking of pretending to be hunters or carpenters, but really we would be plotting to kidnap one of the nobles, and holding him to ransom until Allen... the Lord… paid us money. Would we be allowed to do that?'

I was uncertain. On the one hand, it was a plausible enough plan, and it might have provided the village with a trial and issues to work through. But I'd seen this sort of thing happen in our towns before, and it had aroused feelings that were difficult to restrain.

'It's a tempting idea, I can see, but I don't think you should go ahead with it. If kids get all worked up trying to steal and kidnap, then I can see us having a village that lasts for a couple of chaotic and exciting days, but never really gets going …’

Chris looked upset and determined, as though he were half-expecting that this would be my reaction. He was prepared to fight on. 'So you are saying that you would advise us not to, or that it's forbidden?' he asked. In fact, I was being deliberately vague, and hoped they would take the hint and drop the plan. But Chris had a good mind for subtle distinctions. Allen and I had often joked with him that he'd make a fine trade union leader.

‘I guess, if you're pushing me, that I'm saying you're not allowed to.’

‘I don't think that's fair, Steve,' said Chris, struggling to stay calm. ‘This is meant to be our village, and it's meant to be realistic. That sort of thing really did happen in medieval times.'

‘Yes, I know that I said it's your village, and I know that those kinds of things happened. But I also know, from being a part of these villages before, that if the dishonesty gets out of hand, then it gets to be like a game, with kids trying to outdo each other in skullduggery. We end up with a full jail and an unhappy village. I'm sorry. I really do want you to be planning and coming up with your own ideas. I just feel that this particular one would be harmful.’

Damien looked ready to shrug his shoulders and think of something else. But Chris looked moodily at the ground. Given what happened later in the village, he was probably thinking that next time he had a shady plan, he would keep it to himself.

'Have you got any other thoughts?' I asked. "What about being a carpenter or hunter?'

"What would we hunt? It'd be pretty boring just pretending all day,' said Chris.

‘I reckon it could be OK,' said Damien to Chris. 'We could be carpenters for some of the time, and we could trap rabbits on the hill behind the school. There are plenty there, I know.'

'Barry is going to spend some time with us in the village,' I said, 'and maybe he'd be able to teach you about trapping and cooking rabbit."

'No,' said Chris, still smarting from the disappointment. 'It doesn't really interest me. I think I'll just wait till we get back from our holiday.' He was about to leave on a three week family holiday, and would be missing some of the preparation and the building. 'I'll see what I feel like doing then.'

"You don't feel like joining us in the monastery?' I asked. I wanted to be a monk, and so did Dan.

'No, I don't think so. I'll just wait and see.' I left Chris and went back to the group inside.

'Hey, Steve,' shouted Anna. 'I'm going to be the Abbott. That's what I've put down here. It's going to be cool fun bossing all the rest of you around.’

'Just putting your name down doesn't mean that you'll automatically be the Abbott,' I said. 'As it so happens, I want to be Abbott too.'

Anna's jaw dropped.

'Oh hell, that's not fair, Steve. You'll just choose yourself when you go through all the questionnaires. You'll just make yourself the Abbott. That's bloody unfair…’

I waited for the explosion to subside.

I really did want to be the Abbott. Allen and I had talked about how it was useful to have us strategically placed in positions of some authority, so that we could influence the course of events without stepping out of role.

'How about we get all the kids who are thinking of being monks, and we'll have an election,' I suggested.

'All monks to the quiet room,' Anna shouted, the apparent anger instantly dispelled. 'All monks to the quiet room to vote me in as their Abbott. Vote for me, and there'll be free drinks for everyone. Don't vote for Steve.'

There was some confusion in the room, as some kids were undecided about joining the monastery. But later we had the election, and Anna won easily.

Steve, you can be the person who's second in charge,' said Anna graciously. "What's he called?'

‘The Prior,' I told her. Then I turned to Dan. 'Didn't you want to be the Abbott or the Prior?'

‘No,’ he said, very definitely. "I don't like getting up in front of big groups and saying ‘I’m in charge now, listen to me …’ I would rather just be an ordinary monk.’

Paul was one of the first to hand me his questionnaire. He wanted to be a fisherman and a hunter, he'd written, and he didn't want to be a leader in the village. I was surprised at the time, though if I'd thought back to the Parliament and to the film/play discussions, then I'd have remembered that he often waited in the wings, and only moved onto centre stage when he'd sized up the situation.

I looked up from his questionnaire, and asked him how he was now feeling about the village.

'Oh, I don't know. It's not going to be all that much fun. Andrew told me about the last town. He said it went on for too long and was boring.'

I'd learnt not to try to convince him when he was in this mood. ‘Well,' I said, I hope it turns out to be better than you're expecting.' He shrugged his shoulders non-commitally and walked away, and I turned to help some of the younger kids who were still struggling with their decisions.

During this and the following two weeks, Allen was finishing off a major project outside, erecting with the children six enormous telegraph poles which were to form the base of a climbing frame. The design had already been prepared by a committee of kids, and now the holes had to be dug and the poles raised with ropes, pulleys and child-power.

Meanwhile I went through the completed questionnaires, drew up an enormous chart showing who wanted to be with who, and then wrote a first draft of village families and jobs. I pinned this to a classroom wall the following morning, and the kids jostled for a look at it. Most were happy about their assigned role and family, but some had second thoughts, and Paul was one of them. He talked to a number of his friends (who, in the first draft, were all in different families or in the monastery), and they formed themselves into a family of Spanish gypsies, living on the outskirts of the village. This physical distance represented, I felt, Paul's wariness about the village project itself, even though, by organizing a family, he was beginning to show an interest.

By the end of March, we had the families and roles worked out:

NOBLES
Lord of the Manor (Allen),
Steward (Caitlin),
Steward’s wife (Gunnel),
Steward’s son (Ra)
Visiting cousins (Rachel, Nina),
Grandmother (Amy R.)

VILLAGE PEOPLE
Reeve (Shelly),
Reeve’s wife (Tegan),
Reeve’s son (Catriona),

First shepherd (Yvette),
First shepherd’s wife (Olivia),
First shepherd’s children (Clare, Jessie C., Natasha, Anna R., Tom P., Rachel J.)

Second shepherd (Amy S.),
Second shepherd’s children (Anicca, Mike, Andrew),

Gypsies (Paul, Kate D.)
Gypsy children (Tom B, David B. Shaun, Cameron, John),

Blacksmith (Mark),
Blacksmith’s children & visitors (Eli, Jamie),

Jeweller (Anna S.)

Hunter & Carpenter (Damien, Chris),

Baker (Gail),
Baker’s wife (Siobhan),
Baker’s child (Kate C.)

Travelling Saleswoman (Effie … our teacher’s aid. Effie was sick during the actual running of the village and first Beth and then Liz (parents) took her place.)

MONKS
Abbot (Anna), Prior (Steve), Sub-Prior (Mike T.), Monks (Dan, Kleete, Matthew, Jenna, Jessie W.)