Now, let me be clear: I’m not advocating quite such a cavalier approach to playtimes in my schools. “The children can manage their own independence in this space” was their matter of fact – it’s common sense, surely – reply. “The children know what to do if they require any assistance.” It was said to me as though my questions about health and safety and first aid had been asked by someone being deliberately daft. Even in the relative safety of a large outdoor space at ground level of a neighbouring school, the lack of playtime supervision was a recurring feature of the Chinese school system. Perhaps even more remarkable was the fact that all of the children were all unsupervised before my host and I arrived. “Nobody has ever fallen off” he cheerfully explained. I stepped back and turned to the Chinese headteacher whose school I was visiting. I peered over the edge and can still recall that instant feeling of danger and dizziness washing over my entire body. As I made my way to the edge of the building I was amazed to find that the only barrier between me and the pavement – 16 stories down – was a small wall, waist height at most. Flight after flight of stairs interspersed with several elevator journeys had brought me to the summit, and the rooftop on which I now stood served as a primary school playground for hundreds of pupils. It was October and I was standing on the roof of a high rise building in the middle of Shanghai.
0 kommentar(er)
