|A bastion of elitism and institutionalised racism|
Oh boy, oh boy. A response, below, got me thinking about Harry Potter’s educational experiences. Perhaps you’ve heard of him? I know this is a well worn path, but tinkering around on the wiki entry for Scotland’s premier selective boarding school with a giant squid made comment irresistable. Here are some of the things that immediately struck me:
1. It’s a selective boarding school, with fees payable. What’s the selection criteria? Ability? Faith? Wealth? Er, no, actually, it’s birth. If you’re ‘born magic, or not,’ as the book puts it. So if you’re a member of the lucky sperm club you qualify for entrance. Oh, how jolly egalitarian. Of course, qualification still doesn’t imply admission, as the poorer candidates (like Tom Riddle) find out. You still have to cough up the Galleons, or groats, or whatever the Hell wizards buy their milk with. Dumbledore magnanimously allows that ‘there are funds available for students who cannot afford robes and books.’ Oh, thank ‘ee mazzer. He might have added ‘And snuff, and truffles.’ How can they stand being in the same Highlands as the rabble?
Hermione shouldn’t be hopping about with her knickers in a twist about the House Elves, despite their servile lack of class consciousness; she should be painting placards about the scandalous admission system. Born magic or not? Hmm, so we have an educational hierarchy of pure bloods, half-bloods, squibs and Muggles do we? Can I smell the bonfire of class war? You’re born into one or the other? I believe Gandhi was quite specific about this: the untouchables must be integrated with the mainstream. And I understand Marx had a few words to say on the matter, something about History, and Chains.
Still, is the accident of occult genes any more indicative of inequality than the multiple benefits that fortuitous birth conveys upon any non-magical child? A healthy series of trimesters, sturdy nutrition, the down-payment against stress that financial security brings, the confidence of a supportive nest, and the opportunities of doors opened by friends and family…none of these are the child’s fault, and one can hardly be surprised that they take advantage of them, just as one cannot begrudge a parent for grasping every opportunity for their offspring. Is a magical chromosome any more or less unjust than that?
Perhaps if the school was serious about equality (which it isn’t, but that might not be such a bad thing, because equality is a hydra-headed concept, and at least some of the definitions aren’t universally positive: equal rights for all animals, for example, leads to murder trials for stepping on an ant), then it would have a number of places reserved for non-magical students, who would be led through seven fruitless, soul destroying years of being crap at everything (except hiding from Slytherin predators in the showers), with extra time in their exams (which they would still fail) and having spells made even easier for them (and yet strangely, still uncastable). Then they would be entered for soemthing like ‘Knowledge of How to Open Ye Doors’ GCSE, which they would all then pass with a C, and the school could record that it had entirely complied with the Occult Ability Equality Act, as well as top up their pass rate.
|‘So you see, we’re just better than the other people.’|
2. Differentiation/ Streaming. While no streaming in lessons is immediately apparent, there’s one system that should have every educator choking on his porridge: the Sorting Hat. Yes, pupils at Hogwarts are selected for Houses again, not by ability, not in order to result in an integrated mix of gender, race and ethnicity…no , they’re selected by character. You heard me. If you show courage, bravery, loyalty, nerve and chivalry, then it’s Gryffindor for you, which I imagine is full of the most self-righteous, arrogant and entitled set of stuffed robes in the known world. ‘Yes, I’m in Gryffindor; yah, actually I am pretty brave and honest, yah.’ The most noble people I know are often the most modest; they would, by default, shrink away from describing themselves with such glowing terms. What must that do to their noodles?
Hufflepuff values hard work, tolerance, loyalty, and fair play. Boy, I bet they’re hammering at the door to get into Hufflepuff. ‘Oh, I got into Hufflepuff, did I? I must be a bit of a thick grunt then. Right-oh. Best get on, then.’
Ravenclaw values intelligence, creativity, learning, and wit’ : all I can say is that they must be even more insufferable than Gryffindor. I would happily spanner anyone from Ravenclaw, just on principle.
|‘Haw-haw-haw. We’re off to bash the oiks.’|
Slytherin house values ambition, cunning, leadership, resourcefulness, and most of all, pure wizard blood. Which means they’re racist. And a bit like Peter Mandelson. Again, they probably have to chain them to their beds at night to prevent them sneaking out into any of the other houses. ‘Bloody Hell, they think I’m David Miliband.’ Can someone tell me why anyone would want to be in Slytherin? Any mention of its members invariably describes them as shifty, arch, sly, crafty, self-serving, vain, arrogant, etc. Most of them seem to have ‘meaty faces’ (if they’re stupid) or ‘thin, pinched faces’ (if they’re clever). Most of them are pretty ugly, unless they’re ‘beautiful and terrible’ like Bellatrix. Far be it from me to criticise the quality of Potter’s Pen, but I think she takes physiognomy a bit far. Everyone in Slytherin is a bastard. And I know the horse has bolted a bit, given that the series is over, but they’re all on Voldemorts’s side. What; is Dumbledore taking crazy pills, and inclusion to Olympic levels? ‘Yes, we’re keeping them all at school. Yes, the bastards too. They have every right to learn magic, even if they will use it for violence and mayhem. What?’
Much has been said about the intrinsic unfairness of selection by ability. Not much has been said about the problems of selection by character. Talk about pigeon-holing; talk about stereotyping. ‘You’re a bad ‘un’ says the Hat (a HAT, I’d like to add), ‘Off you pop with the other bad ‘uns. Ah, now you‘re a swell guy; take a seat next to Harry Potter.’ The kids must droop under the expectations of that bloody hat. I wonder if any of them fantasise about dropping the halo and getting a bit snaky for once; or not plotting the downfall of the Headmaster and actually perfroming something altruistic? A few years in the Cauldron of Character Caste (good name for the next book, incidentally) and there’s no chance for any of the poor buggers.
|‘Screw the House-Elves. I LIKE my robes ironed.’|
3. Divination. There’s actually a subject called Divination. You know, where you can see the future? That must make predicting grades a bit easier. Although it doesn’t seem to work most of the time, which seems to imply that it’s a bit of a non-subject, like Life Skills or GCSE/ BTEC equivalents…
Ah, you could go on about this stuff forever….