When a close friend recently decided she was moving from London to the south coast, I immediately started coming up with reasons why this was a bad idea.

Her family lives north. Instead of a quick train ride, she would have to brave the M25 to visit them. And what about her love of culture? You can’t beat London for access to theatres and galleries. Surely, I told myself, it would only be a matter of time before she came to her senses.

But the truth is, this was more about me than her. I hate change. The idea of my friend not being within easy reach was an unappealing prospect.

I have had to grow used to this feeling of discomfort, of course. The pandemic has changed so much about our lives, so quickly.

As a journalist, though, I have had things easy. If I had stayed in teaching, it would have been even worse: schools have often been at the sharp end of recent changes.

However, while there are many in education who have lamented this disruption, as I would have done, others have seen it as an opportunity to do things differently.

Speaking recently to Tes, education researcher Sugata Mitra explained why he thought it would be a disaster for education simply to revert “back to normal” after the pandemic. And in this week’s Tes magazine, Alistair McConville describes how some schools are reforming qualifications, turning their backs on GCSEs and finding alternatives they believe will better prepare students for the future.

While many of the schools McConville references are independents, he stresses that the possibility of radical change is open to all schools - and that now could be the perfect time to do something new.

The benefits of change

If you’re concerned that the ongoing Covid disruption means that the timing for overhaul has actually never been worse, it’s worth bearing in mind that there is a precedent for positive reform in adversity.

As Kate Parker finds out in this week’s magazine, during the Second World War, two-thirds of schools in London and about 60 per cent of those in Manchester were either closed down or repurposed as a result of the Blitz. Schooling was patchy owing to evacuations. But, as historian Daniel Todman explains, instead of aiming for a return to “normal”, the upheaval ushered in reforms that changed education for the better: the 1944 Education Act, which enforced legislation that raised the school leaving age to 15, was, he says, “transformational”.

Change might not always be comfortable, then, but it can be hugely beneficial. As Mitra, McConville and others have pointed out, Covid has shown us that the way we have done things in the past is not the way we always have to do them. We just need to decide whether we want to do them like that.

But we also need to learn from the past. Todman says strong leadership and political consensus were crucial for 1940s’ education reform. I leave it to teachers to decide how they feel about the Department for Education’s track record for these things.

Going forwards, if Nadhim Zahawi decides to push through major reform, it’s essential that schools are supported through the change, rather than leaders being left to work things out for themselves. There needs to be clear planning and good communication.

Most of all, though, the government needs to listen. Before any post-pandemic overhaul, it needs to ask school staff for their views. Consultation can’t be in name only.

It’s a lesson I had to learn, too. My friend invited me to visit her new home, and it turns out that Chichester is a lovely place. If only I had listened more, I would have realised sooner that saying goodbye to the big city isn’t such a terrible idea after all.

This article originally appeared in the 26 November 2021 issue under the headline “We can transform education - if the DfE really listens to teachers”