I couldn’t wait to leave home when I was a kid. I was brought up in a tiny Yorkshire industrial town where almost all of my relatives were born and still lived. I didn’t hate it, I just wanted the cliche that a certain breed of small-town kids have always wanted - the excitement of a big city.
I was lucky. As I got older, my mum and I used to bundle on to a coach before dawn and make an annual pilgrimage to London. We’d do it all, see a show, marvel at folded jumpers in Benetton; all the time clutching our belongings with white knuckles - those pickpockets wouldn’t stand a chance.
As soon as I left school, I legged it to live in London, then a few years later to Manchester, before settling in Nottingham. I love Nottingham for everything it is, but I also love that it takes 90 minutes to get to London, and under an hour to get to three airports - portals to a billion adventures.
My need to experience the life outside of my own locality is the exact opposite to how some of my students see the world. I’ve taught many young people who’ve never left their home town, not even for a day trip. More significantly, many have absolutely no desire to see life beyond their bus route.
This purposeful isolation from the outside world is usually learned at home. Those who dare to be different, who have curiosity for what else is on offer, face rejection from those who fear change - and it takes a strong will to risk that. Fierce home-town loyalty can be the foundation of thriving communities. But it would be reassuring to think that my students’ “choice” to stay in their place of birth was just that. A choice.
I carried out a reading task recently based on the London Underground map. While some students saw it as a resource just like any other, one started asking questions that weren’t on the list. “How much does it cost to get to London?” “How long does it take?” “This Tube thing. Can you get a ticket for as many goes as you want?”
As this one - usually half-asleep - student asked more questions, it struck me that I might have missed a trick. Maybe to get young people to realise that they have the power to widen their aspirational horizon, they should learn how to widen their actual one.
Stepping stones towards aspiration could be created by showing students that the wider world actually exists, and, crucially, by teaching them how to get there. Actually get there. You could travel on a coach to another city. You could have a day in the countryside.
Some learners need more than just permission to explore unfamiliar territory. They need practical pointers to empower them. The act of making that physical journey could be as important as what they learn when they reach their destination. It could change their perspective.
Sarah Simons works in colleges and adult community education in the East Midlands, and is the director of UKFEchat. @MrsSarahSimons
