Curriculum Design

Curriculum design programme

Our curriculum design programme enables schools to develop a curriculum uniquely tailored to their vision and values. We help schools energise their curricula with four import qualities: passion and purpose, mind-friendly learning, big ideas and wonderful experiences. We make curriculum theory and evidence easily applicable in a hands-on format. Our design toolkit helps the whole school community engage in curriculum development, fostering shared ownership and commitment. A wholehearted curriculum helps children to flourish.

Please get in touch if you would like to find out more.

Passion & purpose

We help schools to define their mission and values in a way that will support key choices about what and how to teach. A sense of purpose is important for learners too, building motivation and commitment. We help make sure that children experience the value of their learning beyond the classroom and can apply it in ways that contribute to the world around them.

Mind friendly learning

In recent decades, understanding about how our minds work has increased substantially, with important implications for education. We help schools translate the science into curriculum design that supports  memory, motivation and understanding. Mind-friendly learning also means empowering children to manage their thoughts and feelings to the benefit of their social and emotional wellbeing.

Big ideas

Big ideas are important, transferable understandings that help pupils to make sense of what they learn in school, how things are in the outside world and new tasks and challenges.  We work with schools and subject experts to identify and bring to life the powerful ideas at the heart of each discipline. Big ideas support meaningful connections between concepts, facts and skills and create a dynamic and progressive curriculum narrative.

Wonderful experiences

Like John Dewey, the psychologist and educational reformer of the early 20th century, we believe education is not just “a preparation for life, it is life itself”. This is one reason why we help schools to offer authentic and inspiring learning experiences, stimuli and settings. Our second reason is that these experiences have the power, when carefully chosen and designed, to bring the big ideas of the curriculum to life, supporting deeper understanding and transferable learning.

Boys' Wood

An open-air classroom at the Sanatorium, 1947

The children’s home contained two woods in its grounds, this one, known as the Boys’ Wood, and the Girls’ Wood, known today as Ambrose Wood. When the home opened in 1913, the chance to play and learn outside was considered by the founders to be essential to the wellbeing of children. Open air classrooms were created here and at the nearby Elmfield Sanatorium, also run by the National Children’s Home, for children with TB.

Memories of the woods

Geoffrey Atkinson, who was cared for as a child at Highfield Oval from 1953, when he was ten years old, remembers playing in the Boys’ Wood.

The Orchard and Food Growing

Planting potatoes, 1953

Food growing and farming on site helped to provide for the children’s home and also offered training for the young people. Most of the green vegetables and soft fruit needed were grown in the grounds. In a good year the orchard produced enough apples to last the winter. Children were taught gardening skills in a teaching garden in the orchard. Children from the children’s home and from the town helped out on the farm in the summer.

Memories of the orchard

Terry Elphick, who moved to Harpenden with her family in 1957, aged 13, remembers helping out on the children’s home farm. 

Workshops & Printing School

The Laundry, 1914

The buildings in this area were once workshops, teaching shoemaking, woodwork and printing to young men at the children’s home. The young women were taught book binding, and also skills such as laundry and dressmaking to prepare them for domestic service. The printing workshop (the building with the sawtooth roof) was the printing school for the National Children’s Home with apprentices coming from other children’s homes around the country.

Memories of the workshops and printing school

Geoffrey Atkinson, who was cared for at Highfield Oval from 1953, talks about the different skills that were taught at the printing school.

Here he remembers the trades practiced in the other workshops

The Bakery

Boys making boots, 1953

The bakery at the children’s home baked over 150 loaves for the children every day! It also provided training and employment for young people growing up at the home.

Memories of the bakery

See footage of the bakery at the start of this short 1950s film about Highfield children’s home.

The Hospital

Medical room at Highfield Children’s Home, date unknown

The building now called the Hospitality Suite was once a hospital for the children’s home. The hospital was opened in 1927. The link between a window view from a hospital bed and shorter recovery times, now suggested by research, seems to have been reflected in the design of the building nearly a 100 years ago. According to the archives, the children’s home development committee studied plans for the hospital in November 1923 and called for, “Windows for dormitories to be sufficiently low to enable children to look out, the size of the window panel increased and the frames reduced accordingly.”

Memories of the hospital

Shelagh Cosgrove was looked after at the children’s home between 1945 and 1952. Here she describes her memories of the hospital and her views on the physical and emotional care she received here as a child.

Transcript

I remember being particularly prone to coughs, colds, and respiratory problems.  (The smog, coal smoke, cigarette smoke, and dampness of England in those days were probably not very helpful either). But all of us children were given daily doses of cod liver oil, orange juice, and malt before leaving for school.  Having a hospital on the grounds was also very good because scrapes and cuts and bruises happen wherever there are children playing outside, and I had my share of minor disasters that ended with having to go to the surgery for plasters, bandages, iodine swabs and so on. I spent a lot of time swinging on gym poles, and in the woods, climbing trees, oblivious to the thorns, nettles, wood splinters, rust and insects.  Riding bikes and skates around the Oval was a source of much joy, too, and came with the possibility of injuries if you fell.  I scrumped apples in the orchard, hiked down to the cemetery on a dare one night with a couple of other girls.   I remember one cold morning out in the garden at the back of Ferens, helping to dig a plot for some plants. I was wearing rubber wellingtons that are not very warm or protective, and managed to put a tyne of the pitchfork into a big toe!   I didn’t feel it at the time, but when I came to take the wellingtons off in the boot room, there was blood in my boot.  Sister Cora hiked me off to the clinic immediately and iodine and plaster was applied.  I still have the scar to this day!   When I think of it, it’s a wonder I remained in one piece as much as I did. 

That our physical care and well-being was taken care of is without question. But what of the emotional or psychological needs of children?   For me, this is where I feel things fell somewhat short.  I know the Sisters and the staff were good to us, given the understanding of children and their place in those times.  The focus was on behavior and there were rules and strict enforcement of them too.  This included punishments of various kinds, from having pocket money stopped, free time restricted, having to go to bed early on a beautiful summer evening, and for the boys, being spanked with a slipper, or whipped with a cane.  This was all normal in England in those times, even for kids in normal homes, and those expensive boarding schools.  The authorities did what they knew—but I feel there was a serious lack of understanding about a child’s emotional needs, especially the trauma of having lost one’s original family, or promises made and broken about visits from members of one’s own family.    

Taken with permission from an address given in the chapel during an NCH reunion, July 2010 by Shelagh Cosgrove.