Education, Education, Education?

David Simmons, Senior Lecturer in English and Screen Studies at the University of Northampton, discusses Steve McQueen's Small Axe series and the effect it has had upon him, in particular the closing episode, entitled 'Education'. 

David Simmons discusses the Small Axe series and the Education episode

Being a part of the Diaspora Screen Media Network has brought with it many pleasures, not least of which has been (re) familiarizing myself numerous many film and TV favourites. From the revolutionary cinema of Gurinder Chadha and John Akomfrah to the more recent shows created by Guz Khan and Michaela Coel; researching for the network’s events has helped to fill out the many lockdown hours (when I haven’t been prepping for and teaching online sessions that is!).

Like many people in the UK, one of my ‘must see’ examples of television over the winter months has been Steve McQueen’s revelatory Small Axe. Shown every Sunday night between the middle of November and December, the show has been a thought provoking, often deeply distressing insight into the challenges faced by London’s West Indian community during much of the second half of the twentieth century.

While plaudits have been heaped upon every one of the five episodes of the show - with particular praise being given to Mangrove and Lover’s Rock (which has featured on many top 10 film lists of the year) - it was the last episode that really struck an emotional chord with me.

Titled Education, this fifth and final instalment tells the story of 12 year old Kingsley Smith who dreams of becoming an astronaut but has difficulty reading in school (due to what today might be recognised as a form of dyslexia). We follow Kingsley as he falls foul of an institutionally racist educational system, which ‘treats’ Kingsley’s ‘disruptive’ behaviour in class not as understandable frustration but rather as evidence of a low IQ.

Then in a move that seems fuelled more by racist fears than any genuine care for Kingsley’s future, the school’s headteacher selects Kingsley to be sent to the Durrants, a ‘special’ school, where, we are told, Kingsley will receive the sort of tailored attention that a child with his IQ needs.

Unfortunately, as we soon find out, the Durrants is essentially a dumping ground for the ‘problem’ children who are not wanted by a discriminatory mainstream school system. The Durrants’ unprofessional attitude towards its pupils’ education is best exemplified by an excruciating scene in which one of Kingsley’s teachers sings (poorly) the whole of The Animals’ “The House of the Rising Sun” as the children in his class watch on both bored and bemused.

Fortunately Kingsley is ultimately saved from a miserable educational future by the pioneering work of a group of West Indian women, most notably Lydia, a former politician, and Hazel, a child psychologist, who help remove Kingsley (and children like him) from ‘special’ schools like the Durrants by exposing the racist nature of the British school system, a system that sets up West Indian students to fail.

Being a white, (nearly) middle aged, middle class, university lecturer, you might ask why Education spoke so directly and powerfully to me. Well, for one thing, working in the educational system, means that I’m particularly interested, and invested in the subject matter.  

However, I think the real reason the episode had me in floods of tears was more to do with a shared appreciation of the transformative role education can have in the lives of those from disadvantaged backgrounds.  Having grown up in a distinctly working-class home, in which the merits of education were drummed into me daily, the realities of learning as one of (very few) means of social mobility available to me remain ever present in my mind. Education’s portrayal of a child, intelligent and eager to learn, yet who is nearly denied this opportunity because of the colour of his skin is, perhaps, a simplistic message, but no less devastating because of it.

The tireless efforts of educational groups such as those depicted in the episode’s closing scene, and those who worked unofficially to redress the balance and (re) instil a love for learning in children like Kingsley, deserve their own awards alongside the one’s that McQueen will undoubtedly receive.