Titlebook: Educational Failure and Working Class White Children in Britain; Gillian Evans Book 2006 The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s),

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https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-4684-4772-9 all grew up the same and all her sisters still live on council estates in Bermondsey. I ask Sharon what Karen does for a living and she laughs, explaining, ‘She’s only an estate caretaker.’ I ask Sharon to clarify for me what it is that makes Karen think she’s posh and Sharon says, ‘It’s ’cos she’s

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dapper

Using Non-conventionalWater Resources,estate just across the road from Tenter Ground Primary School.. Like the estate the school has been there since Victorian times. Facing each other at the top of a crossroads and enclosing a narrow cul-de-sac, the two buildings have stood the test of time and many changes. Mrs Waldman, an elderly Ber

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Estimation of Reactivity Ratios,roblems is spent on sorting out the trouble which they have caused during periods of time when they are not under her supervision. The problem is that whilst her authority over the boys is relatively secure in the classroom and their behaviour manageable under her watchful gaze, they immediately sta

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https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-4419-0076-0 work is expected. The boys’ reluctance raises the problem of my own participation. I am careful not to involve myself in the classroom in a way that renders me like a teacher or her assistant and yet I am obviously not a child either. So what do the children make of my presence? For the first three

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Humidity and Electromigration Tests,de in the block of flats opposite where I live. Both Baqir and Chetana are pupils in Year Five/Six at Tenter Ground School. Between their flat and mine is the garden square which is enclosed by three blocks of flats four storeys high; each block contains about forty flats. These blocks form part of

itinerary

Biological chemistry of copper compounds,ry. Patrick is sure that going to prison was the best thing that ever happened to him because, he says, ‘If it weren’t for that I’d be dead by now.’ The scar which runs from Patrick’s temple to the middle of his left cheek gives testimony to a precarious past in which he was stabbed on three differe