# data[].attributes.headline
Ιωάννα ! Καλησπ

# data[].attributes.body
Ιωάννα !

Καλησπέρα σε όλους τους γονείς !

# data[].attributes.headline
Για μελετήστε αυτό...<

# data[].attributes.body
Για μελετήστε αυτό...

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
"There's a virtue in slowness, which we have lost"

wrote Graham Greene in Monsignor Quixote.

Forty years on from its publication date, Greene's reflection is increasingly relevant. Indeed, with the world rapidly changing, and expectations of society tightening, it would seem perverse to encourage 'slow education'. Children are bombarded with instantaneous news, expected to form bitesize and punchy opinions, and exposed to heroes and villains, here today and gone tomorrow.

Our teaching system, increasingly digitised, matches this relentless pace. Few seem to be asking us to slow down our schools. In fact, as the world gets faster and faster, the U.K education system is trying to speed this up. This means a narrowing and overly compacted curriculum structure; standardised testing and an explicit focus on literacy and numeracy were the two key metrics for pupil development as revealed in Nadhim Zahawi's recent white paper[1]. These changes have their roots in Michael Gove's curriculum and examination reforms but as the Times Education Commission recently highlighted from a PWC Survey: "70 per cent of companies agree that the system focuses too much on grades "[2]. Companies may drive the rapid digital revolution, but their HR departments are looking for employees with skills that are best nurtured in far slower environments.

As early as 2002, there appeared greater advocates for slow education. Maurice Holt, for example, called for the commencement of the 'Slow School movement'. For Holt, the 'fast school' offered a "static conception of education that has more in common with training" whereas the slow school was a place "where understanding matters more than coverage" which offers "the intellectual space for scrutiny, argument, and resolution"[3]. Holt brought this movement to UK attention with the help of Mike Grenier and Joe Harrison Greaves, using, at times, unconventional analogies to make his point. As he explained in a 2019 Guardian article, just as it was preferable to "to eat one portion of grilled halibut than three king-sized burgers", so it was "better to examine in detail why Sir Thomas More chose martyrdom than to memorise the kings of England"[4]. Holt lent on the Greek word schole, meaning leisure, to highlight the spirit of slowness, a reminder of the value of play and even idleness as central parts of intellectual and emotional development. Adopting the Greek, in pursuit of child 'flourishing', Scott Parsons, who is Character Development Integrator for the Military Programme at the U.S Military Academy, identifies seven components of virtue that involve: 'Virtue Perception' meaning "noticing situations involving or standing in need of the virtues" and 'Virtue Identity' which is "understanding oneself as strongly committed to the virtues"[5]. It is these components of character development that dovetail most strongly with the 'slow education' movement instigated by Holt, Grenier and Harrison.

Flash forward to 2022 and Greek etymology finds an echo in the educational system of countries further afield. In Estonia for example, the government is thinking about 2035. That's much slower. "It's a problem if every time a government comes in, they have their own plan and want to change everything," argues Gunda Tire, the country's head of international assessment, "Education is a thing that takes time."[6] Estonian education is light on assessment, heavy on teacher autonomy and shuns regular inspections. Contrast this with the promise from the UK Government- taken in the latest education white paper - for every school to be inspected by Ofsted by 2025. Less autonomy, more oversight and therefore fuel for greater parental demand.

What is more, recent U.K surveys have highlighted a dramatic gap between the skills required by employers and those being taught by schools. The Institute for Global Change recently highlighted "substantial deficits in high-skill occupations, which will get worse in future without action"[7]. The aforementioned PwC survey revealed that more than half of large companies would like to see a greater emphasis on personal skills, such as time management; 48 per cent wanted greater attention to problem-solving and 45 per cent on teamwork. In essence, skills that take time to develop; skills that are harder to measure; skills that are slower.

Slow education allows students to develop at their own pace. It allows for greater breadth of learning habits and differences and stays clear of a process devoted solely to high-stake testing. As Holt highlighted, "frequent testing (as opposed to informal teacher monitoring) is inimical to the philosophy of the slow school"[8]. Doing so places a premium on emotional and interpersonal skills, rather than assessment ability, which are the gold standard for aspirational companies looking to recruit talented and hardworking young graduates. Organisations like Rethinking Assessment, set up by Peter Hyman, are doing exactly that: seeking to refigure the testing model so schools are "judged on the quality and range of their education offer" and makes assessment support "the pathways of ALL students whether going to university, college or employment"[9]. No matter what the destination, slowing down appears a priority.

Moreover, many of the choices expected of the next generation concern things that don't widely exist yet such as a 4-day working week or general expectations of VR and AI proficiency. Children's exposure to young and inspirational mentors who can nurture and guide their progress, however slow, is vital. Parents have high expectations but possess less and less awareness of a job market that is markedly different from the one into which they entered. Mentors whose jobs reflect the increasingly freelance, tech-focused world, must connect and guide the graduates of tomorrow.

Within institutions like School 21, the power of mentoring is increasingly evident. The Stratford school has built a learning environment that seeks to "rebalance head (academic success), heart (character and well-being) and hand (generating ideas, problem solving, making a difference)"[10]. The school is taking traditional setpieces of the school environment - assemblies or parent evenings - and refiguring them in ways that puts the emphasis back on children. Teachers are supported too, with regular professional development opportunities and the chance for supra-curricular exploration. Teachers and pupils are encouraged to move away from obsessive quantitative metrics towards a gradual process that celebrates character traits: curiosity and confidence, as well as moral and intellectual virtues (reminiscent of Parsons' formulation), characteristics that institutions like the Jubilee Centre use to make explicit the teaching of these soft skills.

The virtue of slowness is not lost, as Greene may have suggested. Within the world of education, it demands to be resurrected. Given that education policy has been consistent across the past three Governments- they take on, in most cases, the policies of the incumbent, the focus must be on grassroot businesses and charities to build this slow vision. Exemplars mentioned within this article are pioneering but by no means prevalent, so the system must seek their wider distribution. If they can't, we may find our children get to the finish line and remark not "We've come so far!" but "Why on earth did we go so fast?"

"There's a virtue in slowness, which we have lost"

wrote Graham Greene in Monsignor Quixote.

Forty years on from its publication date, Greene's reflection is increasingly relevant. Indeed, with the world rapidly changing, and expectations of society tightening, it would seem perverse to encourage 'slow education'. Children are bombarded with instantaneous news, expected to form bitesize and punchy opinions, and exposed to heroes and villains, here today and gone tomorrow.

Our teaching system, increasingly digitised, matches this relentless pace. Few seem to be asking us to slow down our schools. In fact, as the world gets faster and faster, the U.K education system is trying to speed this up. This means a narrowing and overly compacted curriculum structure; standardised testing and an explicit focus on literacy and numeracy were the two key metrics for pupil development as revealed in Nadhim Zahawi's recent white paper[1]. These changes have their roots in Michael Gove's curriculum and examination reforms but as the Times Education Commission recently highlighted from a PWC Survey: "70 per cent of companies agree that the system focuses too much on grades "[2]. Companies may drive the rapid digital revolution, but their HR departments are looking for employees with skills that are best nurtured in far slower environments.

As early as 2002, there appeared greater advocates for slow education. Maurice Holt, for example, called for the commencement of the 'Slow School movement'. For Holt, the 'fast school' offered a "static conception of education that has more in common with training" whereas the slow school was a place "where understanding matters more than coverage" which offers "the intellectual space for scrutiny, argument, and resolution"[3]. Holt brought this movement to UK attention with the help of Mike Grenier and Joe Harrison Greaves, using, at times, unconventional analogies to make his point. As he explained in a 2019 Guardian article, just as it was preferable to "to eat one portion of grilled halibut than three king-sized burgers", so it was "better to examine in detail why Sir Thomas More chose martyrdom than to memorise the kings of England"[4]. Holt lent on the Greek word schole, meaning leisure, to highlight the spirit of slowness, a reminder of the value of play and even idleness as central parts of intellectual and emotional development. Adopting the Greek, in pursuit of child 'flourishing', Scott Parsons, who is Character Development Integrator for the Military Programme at the U.S Military Academy, identifies seven components of virtue that involve: 'Virtue Perception' meaning "noticing situations involving or standing in need of the virtues" and 'Virtue Identity' which is "understanding oneself as strongly committed to the virtues"[5]. It is these components of character development that dovetail most strongly with the 'slow education' movement instigated by Holt, Grenier and Harrison.

Flash forward to 2022 and Greek etymology finds an echo in the educational system of countries further afield. In Estonia for example, the government is thinking about 2035. That's much slower. "It's a problem if every time a government comes in, they have their own plan and want to change everything," argues Gunda Tire, the country's head of international assessment, "Education is a thing that takes time."[6] Estonian education is light on assessment, heavy on teacher autonomy and shuns regular inspections. Contrast this with the promise from the UK Government- taken in the latest education white paper - for every school to be inspected by Ofsted by 2025. Less autonomy, more oversight and therefore fuel for greater parental demand.

What is more, recent U.K surveys have highlighted a dramatic gap between the skills required by employers and those being taught by schools. The Institute for Global Change recently highlighted "substantial deficits in high-skill occupations, which will get worse in future without action"[7]. The aforementioned PwC survey revealed that more than half of large companies would like to see a greater emphasis on personal skills, such as time management; 48 per cent wanted greater attention to problem-solving and 45 per cent on teamwork. In essence, skills that take time to develop; skills that are harder to measure; skills that are slower.

Slow education allows students to develop at their own pace. It allows for greater breadth of learning habits and differences and stays clear of a process devoted solely to high-stake testing. As Holt highlighted, "frequent testing (as opposed to informal teacher monitoring) is inimical to the philosophy of the slow school"[8]. Doing so places a premium on emotional and interpersonal skills, rather than assessment ability, which are the gold standard for aspirational companies looking to recruit talented and hardworking young graduates. Organisations like Rethinking Assessment, set up by Peter Hyman, are doing exactly that: seeking to refigure the testing model so schools are "judged on the quality and range of their education offer" and makes assessment support "the pathways of ALL students whether going to university, college or employment"[9]. No matter what the destination, slowing down appears a priority.

Moreover, many of the choices expected of the next generation concern things that don't widely exist yet such as a 4-day working week or general expectations of VR and AI proficiency. Children's exposure to young and inspirational mentors who can nurture and guide their progress, however slow, is vital. Parents have high expectations but possess less and less awareness of a job market that is markedly different from the one into which they entered. Mentors whose jobs reflect the increasingly freelance, tech-focused world, must connect and guide the graduates of tomorrow.

Within institutions like School 21, the power of mentoring is increasingly evident. The Stratford school has built a learning environment that seeks to "rebalance head (academic success), heart (character and well-being) and hand (generating ideas, problem solving, making a difference)"[10]. The school is taking traditional setpieces of the school environment - assemblies or parent evenings - and refiguring them in ways that puts the emphasis back on children. Teachers are supported too, with regular professional development opportunities and the chance for supra-curricular exploration. Teachers and pupils are encouraged to move away from obsessive quantitative metrics towards a gradual process that celebrates character traits: curiosity and confidence, as well as moral and intellectual virtues (reminiscent of Parsons' formulation), characteristics that institutions like the Jubilee Centre use to make explicit the teaching of these soft skills.

The virtue of slowness is not lost, as Greene may have suggested. Within the world of education, it demands to be resurrected. Given that education policy has been consistent across the past three Governments- they take on, in most cases, the policies of the incumbent, the focus must be on grassroot businesses and charities to build this slow vision. Exemplars mentioned within this article are pioneering but by no means prevalent, so the system must seek their wider distribution. If they can't, we may find our children get to the finish line and remark not "We've come so far!" but "Why on earth did we go so fast?"

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
The Power of Slow Education | Oppidan Education

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
"There's a virtue in slowness, which we have lost" wrote Graham Greene in Monsignor Quixote.

# data[].attributes.headline
Με τι συναισθήματα σας γεμίζει το βίντεο 

# data[].attributes.subject
Με τι συναισθήματα σας γεμίζει το βίντεο 

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Reggio Emilia Kindergarten, Preschool and STEM Enrichment Programs in Bellevue, wa