By
Ralph Lavender
National
Association for Primary Education Journal July 2001
Christopher Jarman will be chiefly known to NAPE members as the author and only begetter of his handwriting scheme for primary schools. His book is most modestly described as ‘a sort of biography’ – in truth, it is far more than autobiography. Readers will discover what they probably never knew before, that he is a man of many parts –Royal Navy officer, broadcaster, teacher and head teacher, teacher of teachers, advisor, pilot and yachtsman (in roughly that order). He has evidently been an entrepreneur, before such a thing was encouraged by our politicians. And he is a raconteur with a fine sense of humour and an eye for the ridiculous in human behaviour, even from his earlier days a sense of the scabrous. For example he tells of his studies of primary children’s attitudes. “What food do you like?” he asks a five-year-old “Chicken, but not stuffing.” “Why not?” “It’s horrible, and I don’t know why the chickens eat it either.”
The first part of the book, led by a photograph of a bearded and bronzed naval officer with an aircraft carrier in the background, is a sometimes breathless account of his schooling and career as an Observer in the Fleet Air Arm. Half of that is about his military exploits from 1952 until 1960. A good deal of the other half concerns his exploits with the girls he met.
The second part of Head in the Clouds is about his career in education, ending with a photograph of an altogether more mature and serious man in academic garb. Christopher Jarman comes across through these pages as a very self-confident man with some powerful views and the ability to put them forcefully when moved to do so. This, of course is true of most people with strong views about education. But there are also occasional hints here and there of more troubled depths as well as a poet’s eye for physical scenes and a delight in the language to describe them.
Perhaps not surprisingly, he is none too smitten with testing, selection at eleven or the National Curriculum. And he has little time for inspection as we now know it. ‘First and foremost teaching depends upon the idealism and vision of the teachers. Being checked up on by inspectors can completely destroy this. It is the same philosophy that has dogged British business management since the second world war, and is, in my view, responsible for its general decline.’ Again and again he recalls experiences with children, teachers and schools that demonstrate that when the children’s capacities are shown in their full colour and three dimensions, the basic skills can be seen just as clearly. ‘In recording their experiences fully and accurately, children are constantly employing and improving these skills.’ He follows in the tradition of many distinguished educationists, some of whom, such as Christian Schiller, he mentions.
Christopher Jarman includes some articles and scripts from BBC talks, and one from 1969 ought to be quoted in full if only there were space to permit it. Three particular sentences struck me most powerfully. ‘Never be a victim of your surroundings. Open the windows, paint the walls, plant flowers. A human being is a creature who does not submit to things.’ This is the litmus test of the author’s own life.
Head in the Clouds contains many totally honest observations about the girls he met during his time in the Royal Navy as well as the teachers he met afterwards. This kind of honesty in relationships with people is evidently another quality of Christopher Jarman’s life. His autobiography begins with a description of solo flying over Wiltshire two years ago. I would have liked to know more about his pilot’s licence as well as the ten years he spent in in-service education at Roehampton. He describes this, as ‘the least rewarding ten years of my educational life, and that is another story.’ Does this mean that there is another story to come? I do hope so.