Luxon’s One Way, Same Way, Every Day Slogan
- 7 days ago
- 3 min read
by ELV
Today the gruesome twosome arrived for another announcement — staged carefully at a thriving school — a story of delivery.
If you’re short on time, or cannot quite tolerate the press-conference smiles, here is the gist of the latest holy grail...
Tweedledum and Tweedledee have been busy analysing the same old data again. They say it tells us we have a long way to go. So thankfully our saviours have put in place whole-class interventions. (I am still not entirely sure what a whole-class intervention is meant to be).
Oh, and targeted intervention for those who need catching up — although it is difficult to see where that sits when the very people who once carried that work — RTLit, RT Māori — have been defunded.
And then the moment we have been waiting for.
The Make It Write.
Or perhaps — Make It White — action plan.
This genius action plan comprises of the most amazing online platform tool.
An online writing intervention.
Because partnering with another ed-tech company and exporting student data offshore is exactly what the sector has been calling for. Said no teacher. Ever.
Students in Years 6–10 will receive a 14-week intervention programme designed to raise writing achievement. For 120,000 students, apparently.
And all of this, we are told, is a direct response to what the sector has been asking for.
I wish they would respond to what the sector has actually been saying.
Meanwhile, the quietly arriving mandated science curriculum brings science kits — alongside a familiar small-country conversation about conflicts of interest, procurement processes, and reassurance that everything was handled appropriately.
It is always handled appropriately.
So the short hand version and stripes of honour go to:
Back to basics — defined in a Beehive far far away.
World class – keep saying it until it is true.
Attendance solved — policy in; complexity still unsolved.
Mobile phones banned — six, seven.
An hour of maths – the hour is guaranteed. The learning is more of a suggestion.
An hour of reading — decoding counted; the meaning harder.
An hour of writing – writers' voice waiting patiently.
Structured literacy. — chin it; eyes front.
Structured maths. — No Problem!
Structured everything.
One way. Same way. Every day.
A new curriculum.
NCEA replacement signals.
Knowledge-rich language.
Progress dashboards for parents.
It is quite an overhaul — totally ambitious; relentless in just two short years of course.
And we are told parents will notice the rich resources schools now have access to.
But at my school whānau hui this week, when Liz Kane’s Code was displayed, the Maths No Problem books explained, the attendance graphs shown — there was no applause I'm afraid.
No questions about programme fidelity. No curiosity about intervention cycles. Just puzzled looks.
And then the real questions arrived: Is my child happy? What day is swimming? Can we help with Sea Week? Are there trips coming up? What stories can we share at home about Rāhiri?
The questions were relational. They are always relational. Because families do not experience school as a policy platform. They experience it as a feeling.
And this is the gap they will never be able to fill with their slogans and billboards.
The assumption that every child experiences school the same way.
That improvement is a matter of tighter systems, clearer scripts, more consistent delivery.
That if we just standardise harder, outcomes will follow.
But three decades of research — including the work underpinning North-East teaching — tells a different story.
What changes outcomes is not uniform delivery.
It is a relationship.
It is the ten tightly interconnected moments that sit underneath learning: the noticing prior learning and experiences, the attuning with care to a child’s culture and belonging, the repairing of deficit mindsets towards learning and outcomes, the belonging, the high expectations with care, the cultural visibility, the emotional safety, the learner voice, the whānau connection, the quiet persistence of an adult who refuses to give up.
These are not intervention packages that line corporate pockets.
They are experiences.
You cannot standardise them.
You cannot ship them in a kit.
They are the thing that moves achievement.
Every time.
Oh and Erica, you’re welcome 🙂
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