Years
ago, when I lived in Scotland, I began to collect child care
policies. They were a comparatively new genre, and some of
the titles, including references to “battered babies”,
“maladjusted” children and foster “parents”,
now seem dated to the point of political incorrectness. There
was even mention of “house parents” in children’s
homes and a recognition that some married couples might run
establishments. It was that great sprawling anachronism, the
now thankfully defunct, Strathclyde Region, that led the way
with such policies, and I recall a senior manager in the Social
Work Department who told me that the department prided itself
on having a policy for every eventuality. The problem, she
continued, was that they didn’t have the resources to
implement them!
I
have continued to collect child care policies from around
the world, but space in my home has dictated that I should
be far more selective now than in the heady days of the 1970s.
For in a management-obsessed, organisationally dominated age,
policies are the sine qua non of all child care at every level.
It is unthinkable to proceed as an organisation or establishment
without written policies on recruitment, police checking,
child protection, risk assessment, health and safety, application
procedures, education, health, equal opportunities, physical
restraint, representation and complaints, reviews, privacy,
confidentiality, access to data and files, qualifications,
hygiene, transport, first aid, supervision, to name just a
few preliminary subjects from the top of my head.
The
pressure to add to and extend the policies and the areas they
cover is ceaseless, driven on by a combination of an overriding
desire to eliminate risk and liability, an outcome oriented
perspective that requires detailed statements against which
practice can be monitored and evaluated, and a bureaucratic
worldview that Max Weber described with chilling accuracy
and which continues to descend on and envelop Europe and the
machinery of government and professions worldwide.
I
have always had great difficulty with all this, just as I
continue to have problems with the whole notion of “children’s
rights.” Ever lingering in my mind is the unforgettable
phrase of Bentham about rights, “nonsense on stilts.”
By this I take him to mean that it is one thing to enunciate
great statements and wish lists, but quite another to implement
them unconditionally in daily life. Is there any evidence
that the Convention on the Rights of the Child is making nation-states
rethink traditional attitudes to war, government, economics,
so that children’s rights are becoming inalienable?
Perhaps some will argue that it is early days.
My
difficulties revolve around several elements of this approach
and process. I wonder whether it is possible to put into words
(and then into policies) some of the most important aspects
of child development; I wonder whether those who produce the
policies become out of touch over time with the realities
and mysteries of everyday life (the policy makers seem to
comprise a tier or breed who communicate with each other and
are up to speed with legislation, procedures and policies
way beyond the grasp of practitioners, parents and children);
I find the writing and reading of policies something to which
I am constitutionally averse; and I wonder whether the industry
and energy that goes into policymaking might better be channelled
into real child care. This is not to deny the significance
of policies per se, but it is to question whether the whole
process is subject to scrutiny by a principle such as “is
this in the best interests of children, young people, carers
and parents, short term and long term?”
So
far I have argued a case at a theoretical level, so let me
give you just one example of what I mean as it affects this
summer for some children and parents in a London borough.
A summer play and activity scheme for children and young people
with disabilities has been closed. It offered 30 places a
day for three weeks of the summer holiday. Parents are having
difficulty finding replacement schemes. There are, of course,
detailed issues of resources, premises, personnel and location,
but underlying everything is a policy of “inclusiveness”,
one of the great politically correct nostra of our time. Put
simply the ideal is that provision of all kinds should be
such that children and young people whatever their gifts or
challenges should enjoy the same rights and experiences. In
practice it presents such practical problems that some of
the very children it seeks to include have found themselves
this summer without any provision. The existing schemes would
all like to help but lack the necessary expertise, equipment
and, above all, personnel.
So,
wait for it, some have even dared to call into question the
sacred nostrum of inclusivity! I have some thoughts of one
of the parents in front of me. It reads: “Even if basic
safety and physical care needs are not an issue for a child
the degree to which they can actually participate equally
with others in the group may well be limited. It does call
into question the meaning of inclusion.” A letter she
received from the group who ran the now defunct summer programme
comments: “There is some irony that concerns are now
being “flagged up” as to whether there can be
true “inclusiveness” for some children and young
people with disabilities. This is an issue we have long been
raising, although it has not been “politically correct”
to do so, and therefore has tended to be discounted. There
has been little support in the past for the view that, however
worthy the aim, in some instances inclusion is only a token
gesture, may not provide a worthwhile experience for the child
and could actually isolate him or her more…the current
drive for “inclusion” has actually been a major
factor in the (scheme’s) demise.”
So
there you have it: a laudable policy, one of whose consequences
is the exact opposite of what is intended! You have noticed
the key words no doubt: “some children and young people”
and “in some instances.” That’s always the
problem with blanket policies. I’ve seen it in different
parts of the world, in very different regimes. There is always
the risk that particular children and families suffer as an
unintended consequence. Do the policymakers know this, and
do they really care? Please pause for thought before responding.
Perhaps there will be something in place next year or the
year after, but for some children and parents this summer
will be a stressful and constrained period of time.
