How to ruin Christmas

Actor turned vicar Natalie Garrett, recounts the perils of being a Christmas Pro.

Natalie Garrett

Natalie produces and narrates The Seen & Unseen Aloud podcast. She's an Anglican minister and a trained actor.

A nativity seen with wooden figures and hay, amidst which a cat sits in the manger.

Nativity cat, Warsaw, 2012.

Kacper Pempel.

So, during the years of my acting career, I always avoided Panto (oh yes I did). Not because I don’t like Panto, I love a good Panto. But because I didn’t want to work over Christmas. How God will have chortled at that great irony, knowing as he did that as of 2005 (the year I got ordained), I would be working every Christmas for the rest of time.

Christmas is different now. Not only am I ordained, I’m married to a vicar. I’m completely immersed in professional Christmas. And Christmas is a bit different when you’ve turned pro. I won’t go so far as to say that being ordained has ruined Christmas, but it’s certainly changed it. But so has (supposedly) being a grown up.

My “Proper Christmas” will always be the Christmas that I grew up with (is that just me?). I had traditional preparing-for-Christmas jobs that I did every year on Christmas Eve eve: polishing the special cutlery we only used once a year, making the brandy butter (which is a bit odd now I think about it, being that heavily involved with brandy from the age of six) and decorating The Tree. And having the annual argument with my sister about whose turn it was to take the present to our neighbours across the road. And eating a lot of satsumas. And chocolate. And seeing my cousins and playing Trivial Pursuit. All of which looks very rosy seen through the eyes of a child. Christmas is different when you’re ordained and you have to work, but it’s also very different when you’re the grown up.

I used to think my mother made a ridiculous amount of fuss about Christmas. I am now that same mother. I think it’s Michael McIntyre who does a whole routine about women starting to write their Christmas To Do lists in October and endlessly shrieking, “there’s so much to do!” That’s me folks. Christmas as a grown up – or at least for this grown up – feels like there’s so much to do!

I always imagine (unhelpfully fantasize) that Other People’s families are living the Christmas dream – the relaxed, cosy evenings drinking hot chocolate or eggnog in front of a roaring fire; laughing and playing wholesome games happily and peacefully with their angelic children, wearing matching Christmas jumpers. In the cold light of day, I realise that, actually, most people find Christmas stressful for a million different reasons. It’s not all twinkly and bright.

For many people, Christmas means seeing all the family that they avoid during the rest of the year. It means spending money they can ill-afford on presents that may not be wanted. Christmas means missing the people who aren’t with us anymore. It means endless advertising campaigns suggesting that you aren’t living the perfect life – but that if you buy a new sofa, you’ll salvage the ruins of your life just in time for a perfect, twinkly Christmas.

And so the life of the mythical twinkly, “magical” Christmas lives on. With little or no reference to its origin story.

I was the chaplain at a Church of England secondary comprehensive school for seven years. In my first term, putting together the carol service, I asked a class chapel rep if she would do one of the Bible readings. “Oh, is Christmas in the Bible?” Huh. Another conversation I had went along the lines of, “Miss, I don’t believe in Jesus and all that religious stuff. But I believe in the spirit of Christmas.” Huh.

There’s a song in the staged musical version of the film Nativity, which is to all intents and purposes a Christmas prayer. But instead of the prayer being directed at God, it is directed at Father Christmas;

Dear Father Christmas, make our wish come true

Dear Father Christmas send your spirit through

There are Children in the world who need you way more than we do

But Father Christmas, we still believe in you

Dear Father Christmas make our wish come true

Which brings me to a difficult moment in my Christmassy life. I have a parenting policy that demands that I tell my children the truth. Whatever the question, if I know the answer, I will give it to them honestly. So, when my children were around the ages of four and six, in the middle of Sainsbury’s, with both children piled into the trolley, in mid-November, surrounded by early Christmas-abilia, one of my children asked me, “Mummy, does Father Christmas really exist?”. (SPOILER ALERT!!). I had to give an honest answer. If the question had been less straight, if there had been any wriggle room at all, I would have fudged it. But a straight question deserved a straight answer. Which, wide-eyed, they went and shared with their friends. A crowd of angry parents from their Primary school came to church to complain that the Vicar’s children had ruined Christmas.

But my point was that if I were to tell my children that I believe Father Christmas exists and that he grants Christmas wishes, were they ever to find out that I had lied (ahem), how would they trust me when I say that I believe Jesus does exist and that he does answer prayers? The challenge has lived with me ever since: how to keep Christmas rooted in Christ without ruining the Christmas magic.

Well, my saving grace is that I’m still a sucker for a bit of Christmas schmaltz. The theologically sensitive part of me absolutely abhors Away in a Manger (“no crying he makes”? Really? He was a new-born baby, of course he cried!!) and Little Donkey (in the Bible accounts there is absolutely no mention of donkeys at all. Not a single one – not on the road, not in the stable. No cows, no donkeys.) But light some candles, get the children singing and I have tears pouring down my face with the best of them, loving every moment.

But that still doesn’t mean that the essence of Christmas is the twinkly magic. Because, of course, the first Christmas was neither twinkly nor magic. Nor did it involve a perfectly curated tablescape (which I also love at Christmas). It didn’t involve any the stereotypical Christmassy things that we all get stressed about and love in equal measure. The first Christmas was messy and difficult. But it was also the most real, most genuinely joyous event in human history. Apart from Easter. Don’t get me started on chocolate bunnies….

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Education

15 May 2023

5 min read

Why the RE teacher recruitment crisis is a problem

In the week that over a quarter of a million young people sit their GCSE Religious Studies exam, Paul Smalley analyses the crisis in religious education -demand for which is rising.

Paul Smalley

Paul Smalley is a Senior Lecturer in Religious Education at Edge Hill University and a Local Missional Leader in the Diocese of Liverpool.

Credit: Get Teaching

I could have laughed at Nick Gibb, the Minister of State for Education recently – but unfortunately, I don’t think he was trying to be funny. What caused my outburst of hilarity was a written answer he had given to a parliamentary question. The question had been asked by Catherine West, a shadow minister, and was enquiring about what steps the government was taking to ensure that recruitment targets for religious education teachers are met. As the daughter of a headmaster and a practising Quaker, it seems reasonable that she might take an interest in such matters; she is clearly aware of the recruitment crisis that is threatening the teaching of the subject in schools up and down the country. This awareness seemed to be lacking in the Minister of State’s response.

The first part of his answer was to report that the number of teachers remains high. And of course, he is correct – the number of Full Time Equivalent Teachers in England has remained fairly steady at around half a million for the last few years. What he didn’t mention is that there are over a quarter of a million more pupils now than there were five years ago. The pupil to teacher ratios in secondary schools has risen each year since 2013. Every teacher needs to teach more pupils. Last year the recruitment target for teachers was missed by some way and will be only slightly better this year.

Gibb’s answer was designed to suggest that there was no problem, nothing to worry about – when in fact there is a crisis.

But the question was about RE teachers specifically. And again, Nick Gibb chose his answer carefully, choosing the one year (2020/21) in the last ten when the recruitment target for RE teachers was exceeded – the year that the target was substantially reduced. In 2022/23 the recruitment target was missed by 25 per cent. On average between 10 and 12 per cent of RE teachers who train leave the profession within five years of training. This is higher than the average across all subjects.

Gibb’s answer was designed to suggest that there was no problem, nothing to worry about – when in fact there is a crisis. Teacher recruitment for all subjects is down 22 per cent from last year. However, RE stands out, being down a third of applicants from the last recruitment cycle.

Students often describe it as the one time in school where they can think independently about the people, events and beliefs in the world around them.

Why does it matter if there aren’t enough RE teachers?

Religious Education is the only subject which every state school must provide for all of its pupils. It has been this way since 1944 – but the subject has changed beyond recognition in that time.

It is a popular and increasingly important subject for our young people to study. Over the last five years entries to the GCSE have stood at around an average of 250,000 with entries to the full course GCSE rising by 30 per cent over the last decade. It is a subject which helps young people navigate the complex and dynamic nature of our multi religious, multi secular world. It has never been more important, recognised by wider society as vital for preparing students for life in global Britain.

Students often describe it as the one time in school where they can think independently about the people, events and beliefs in the world around them. It is a space where ultimate questions are discussed. Big questions such as: ‘Why do people suffer?’, ‘Is death the end?’, and ‘How should we behave in the world?’. In an increasingly secular world, young people need a space where they can explore these questions, gain insight into how Christians, members of other faiths and non-religious people respond to these issues and develop their own understanding of their place in the universe.

I wouldn’t go as far as some in saying that RE is an opportunity to de-indoctrinate young people against a prevailing secularising agenda, but RE is a curricular space where pupils can come to realise, that whatever their own personal background, someone’s belief or worldview, shapes and influences how they engage with and interpret the world around them. For some people these beliefs are fundamental; there is no place of neutrality on such matters – nobody stands nowhere. Pete Greig reminds us (in the book How to Pray: A Simple Guide for Normal People) that even those who state that they are not religious will often pray: there is a spiritual side to life, even if people fail to explicitly recognise it. If children are growing up in non-religious households, school may be the only place where spiritual matters are discussed openly and objectively.

High school pupils are now three times more likely to be taught RE by someone with no qualification in the subject than, for example, in history.

Teaching young people is a demanding job, and as someone who has been training people to teach RE in high schools since 2006, I know that teaching RE demands a particular skill-set. RE is multi-disciplinary, so it requires a teacher who understands how to think like a theologian, and a historian, a philosopher and a social scientist. It requires academic skills such as ethnography and literary analysis, but also the people skills to act impartially, empathetically and sensitively when discussing important and controversial issues. And all that on top of the skills required of any teacher – to manage behaviour, plan lessons and monitor progress for example.

However, such is the level of crisis that all too often RE is being taught by non-specialists, simply because there are not enough trained RE teachers. High school pupils are now three times more likely to be taught RE by someone with no qualification in the subject than, for example, in history. Of those who teach RE in secondary schools over half spend most of their time teaching another subject (compared to only 13 per cent of those who teach English and 27 per cent of those who teach Geography). These same pressures contribute to many schools’ RE provision simply not being good enough.

What can be done?

The first step for the government to take is to acknowledge that there is a problem – with teacher recruitment across the board. The teaching profession as a whole needs a boost – to show that teaching is an attractive career. Significant workload reductions and pay increases will help this perception.

But there is a specific problem with RE recruitment. Postgraduate teacher training attracts a bursary to teach Geography of £25,000. RE trainees receive no bursary. I have heard of well qualified humanities or social science graduates who have chosen Geography over RE simply because of this. In years when there has been a bursary available to train as an RE teacher, then recruitment has risen significantly.

But what might really make a difference is a properly funded National Plan for RE to ensure it is properly resourced and taught by professionally trained teachers.

For more information about becoming an RE teacher or supporting the campaign, visit: Teacher Recruitment - Culham St Gabriel's (cstg.org.uk)