Hugh Reilly: Charity gets message across as it says hello to Holyrood

Published on Tuesday 18 November 2008 21:22

LAST week, I managed to slip under the wire and swap the tedium of school for the excitement of attending a parliamentary reception for Mindroom, a Scottish charity.

Arriving at Holyrood, a fitting monument to pre-credit crunch decadence, I joined the line of other losers waiting to enter perhaps the only Edinburgh attraction offering free admission.

Security was tight – a primary class of 30 kids was thoroughly searched lest any potential suicide-bomber had packed a gas cylinder in their Thomas the Tank Engine lunch box. I watched incredulously as a guide dog had its collar felt by a guard. Admittedly, I have not undergone any training in anti-terror techniques, but the possibility that it may have been a canine jihadi seemed remote to me.

On signing in, I received my "access all areas" pass, or rather a plastic badge. Maybe it's just me, but whenever I try to pin one of these infernal things on to my lapel, I invariably draw blood.

In Committee Room 1, Jackie Baillie, MSP, started proceedings by outlining the key idea behind Mindroom – raising awareness of learning difficulties. A survey by the charity questioned the official figure of 30,000 children who require additional learning support.

According to Mindroom, there are more than 120,000 such kids. While I do accept that the government statistic may be a tad on the shy side, I found the Mindroom statistic – one in six pupils – completely out of kilter with my classroom experience. Classes of 30 just don't have five youngsters with ADHD, Asperger syndrome, dyspraxia, Tourette's, dyslexia or autism. If the charity's results are to be believed, there are 250 afflicted teenagers in the average comprehensive with a roll of 1,500 students. This is Mindroom boggling.

Like many people, I am sceptical about the mushrooming "syndrome industry" and the rush of some parents to discover an as-yet unknown disorder that will explain their child's behaviour. The desire to label a youngster is even found in teaching staff.

Some years ago, my ex-wife and I were called to a meeting with the headteacher of our child's primary school. In grave tones, we were told the school believed our youngster to be autistic and recommended he be given professional help for his condition. We demurred, preferring instead to reinforce to our son what type of behaviour was acceptable. Since then, he has never looked back and this year, he is expected to achieve a clutch of credit Standard Grade awards.

Mindroom is on firmer ground with its demand that teachers be given proper training to help identify and support such pupils. I, for one, never received such training. In most establishments, teachers are told which pupils have learning difficulties, the diagnosis having been made by other professionals. Support for Learning departments issue notes to assist the chalkie's efforts to educate the child – eg, indicating which learning styles best suit that individual. To be honest, given the fact there are almost 30 other children in the room, most teachers do not have the time for one-to-one teaching.

Perhaps the only uncomfortable moment in the committee room occurred when Mindroom's founder, Sophie Dow, waxed lyrically about the work of the New School, a private, co-ed boarding school that specialises in teaching kids with learning difficulties.

Her call for more of these establishments was questioned by some, who unhelpfully pointed out that less well-off parents could not access this type of education. Sadly, the less articulate and less wealthy mums and dads are often unable to access even the existing state-education services for their suffering children.

I sincerely wish the Mindroom campaign well in its endeavours.