Scotland's schools are in a state but the intellectual depth of some children is astonishing
The standard of the speeches at the Scottish Public Speaking Competition was the highest Cameron Wyllie had witnessed in 50 years
So, earlier this month, jet-lagged, sleep-deprived and – like, it seems, so many people just now, not well in my chest – I turned up to do a gig that I’d had in my diary for a while, to wit, judging the finals of the Scottish Public Speaking Competition organised by that excellent organisation, Young Speakers Scotland.
Now, I was for years the Scottish Schools Debating Coach and, like many of my ilk, spent my career regarding ‘public speaking’ as debating’s charming but not very able younger sibling. Long nights spent in cold halls while kindly youngsters talked about “The Pressures of Rugby” or “My Keyring Collection” (a talk with keyrings).
All very well, but not the cut and thrust of the debating chamber. But public speaking is often judged by… older… people and so I happily agreed and that, on a chilly but sunny Edinburgh day, was what I was doing.


Heroism, love and Avatar
There were 21 speakers across the two competitions (junior and senior) and by the end I had forgotten my exhaustion and my wheeziness, and was able to say to the assembled young people, smiley parents and teachers – pretending they don’t care if their one wins – that, in 50 years, man and boy, of being involved in this niche school ‘sport’, I had never seen such a high standard.
As it happened, both competitions were won by young people from Woodfarm High School in Glasgow, but there were young people there from schools all over Scotland. So a great day for Woodfarm; I could tell their cool young coach was looking forward to telling his head teacher. What joy!
But, to be honest, everyone was at least very good, and several others, from S1 to S6, were brilliant, talking about all sorts of things: jury trials; Avatar (who knew!); fair trade; the heroism of their grandfather (genuinely moving); a boy called Love talked about love; the senior winner talked about how he detested musicals, was very funny, then turned a corner and was saying such clever things about the way we view art.
Keyrings were nowhere. These were clever Scottish kids, of many different ethnicities and backgrounds, doing something they liked to do, and doing it with conviction, poise and real intellectual depth. This all seemed to me to matter.
I do, of course, moan on about the state of state education, and there is a great deal wrong. Just at this minute, I won’t repeat the list, not even just the ones beginning with ‘A’. But I am not, and never have been a fan of the ‘Curriculum for Excellence’ (CfE) – it’s not a curriculum and it has rarely produced much of excellence.
The importance of confidence
However, I will say this – and I will say it cautiously, for there are thousands upon thousands of fragile young people in Scotland – I do believe that across the piece it may have made a significant number of our young people ‘Confident Individuals’, to use the language of the ‘Four Capacities’ around which CfE is based. (It’s failed badly on the other three, but just for today let’s be positive and spring like).
And this issue of confidence matters a lot. If we are ever to close the poverty-related attainment gap, then encouraging confidence in oracy among all of Scotland’s schoolchildren will be an important step forward.
Yes, I know, I know – they need to be able to count and read too. For a very long time, though, the big difference between young people from state and independent schools in Scotland has often been to do with their confidence, particularly around public speaking.
Now, of course, these particular young people weren’t exactly a random sample; they had progressed through the rounds of a national competition. But, older gent as I am, I took great pleasure in thinking of them growing up and becoming whatever it is they are going to become (please, not too many lawyers).
Uncynical convictions
Maybe some of them will become politicians in time, for there was plenty of political vim and passion in them, and if they can carry their uncynical convictions into the next few decades, then they may do much good in this uncertain Scotland.
There was another thing too – it reminded me of the commitment of teachers to the extra-curricular life of young people: to sport, to drama, to music, to cadets, to the Duke of Edinburgh Award, to all these things that, to be honest, teachers don’t really have to do, and don’t, by and large, get paid for.
All of these things encourage confidence, teamwork and growth in our young people. Cool Coach and his colleagues from other schools were gladly giving up their Saturdays. So parents, please always thank your children’s teachers for sacrificing their own family time (and marking time and nap time) to take your kids places and make their lives more productive and interesting.
So I stepped out into the sun six hours after I arrived, with a spring in my step. The initiative of Young Speakers Scotland to get into Scottish schools, particularly those with no tradition of debating or public speaking is clearly bearing fruit; incidentally, I’m sure if you felt like bunging them some money they would be pleased.
Also incidentally, don’t worry because my next column will be back to rage and disbelief, but it’s good to have had a day off. Well done, young people – Scotland will benefit from your talent, I know.
Cameron Wyllie is a former head teacher. He writes a blog called A House in Joppa and is the author of a book called Is There A Pigeon in the Room? My Life in Schools
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