Primus and Secondus have a place here, starting August 2015
Primus and Secondus have a place here, starting August 2015
When we first moved to Sweden, we knew that the language transition is far easier on younger children than older ones. Our assessment was that Tertia (not quite 8 when we moved) would have an easy job learning Swedish and settling in, Secondus (just 10) would be mostly OK, but Primus (12) would struggle.
The choice of learning environment was therefore critical to us. We aimed to get Secondus and Tertia into the local school, where an immersion environment would get them quickly up the language curve, and recognised that Primus would need a more gentle introduction. We had a native Swedish friend whose daughter had recently started at the Jacobsberg Internationalla Engelska Skolan, and the more we learned about it, the better it sounded.
We appreciated the following points in particular:
It’s a mixed environment where both languages are spoken and used as the teaching medium. Therefore, ability in Swedish is not a prerequisite for learning other things, nor for making friends.
As the school’s identity is based on preparing Swedes for a global environment where the common language is English, being an English native speaker is actually a positive thing. Our friend’s daughter had only really been learning English for about 4 months in that environment, but was already conversationally fluent.
We thought therefore that this would be the balance: where Swedish language would seep in by osmosis in addition to formal classes, but without being a barrier.
The school’s ethos is pretty strict for a Swedish school. While it doesn’t quite go as far as uniforms (in Sweden? Crazy talk!), it has many of the characteristics of a high end state school in the UK: teachers are addressed by their surnames and wear business dress, discipline is firm (but not uber-strict) – no mobiles, no gum chewing, no hats, no underwear on show – expectations of behaviour and achievement are high and there is a house system.
Knowing Primus’ way of thinking, this amount of structure is helpful even if not particularly enjoyed at the time by moodswinging teenagers. It echoes many of the culture points of the high school he briefly attended in Scotland and where he was flourishing
However, while getting Secondus and Tertia into the local school was pretty easy, entry to IES was a lot tougher, even though we had two on our doorsteps. You see, all the factors that make high end UK schools attractive to UK parents are equally attractive to ambitious Swedes, particularly when you throw in the sweetener of ending up at a native level of proficiency in English.
All state schools in Sweden (and certainly in Stockholm) use a common application process, which involves a queue. And the queue for all the IES schools is 4+ years. Not quite the
put them down for Eton at birth, but in that ballpark. And in Sweden, a queue is a queue and you can’t jump it.
Back to the drawing board: Primus ended up at the Villastads Skola. Which is a good school, in the classic Swedish tradition. Relaxed, collaborative. All the stuff we value.
School has just this week ended for the summer. In the 18 months we’ve been here, Tertia has (as predicted) flourished. She now has pretty good conversational Swedish, certainly plenty to hold her own in classroom and social environments. She has friends, some of whom are bilingual, and chats happily flitting between languages without a worry in the world.
However, for the boys, it really hasn’t worked out.
Neither of them have learned any Swedish worth talking about. Neither of them have made (m)any friends (Secondus a little better in this respect). Neither of them are learning in school. Primus comes home every lunchtime to avoid socialising. Secondus spends most lessons in a corner reading Harry Potter in English. Not good. Both of them are stressed and angry most of the time in school.
In Spring, we had a meeting with the school where this was put very clearly to us, and that the school were as worried as we are. And Lucy and I realised this wasn’t sustainable.
In mid May, I received a call that changed everything.
Back before Christmas, having realised that things weren’t really working well, I’d put all 3 into the queues of every single IES in the city. Including ones that weren’t yet open, so hadn’t had the chance to build up the 4+ year queues.
In mid May, one of the ones that wasn’t yet open called me, and told me that – while he wasn’t assured of a place – Secondus was in the top 10 of the queue for his year with entry in August this year: on opening day of the school. Would we like to come for an Open Day?
Would I? Would I? I think I’d said
Yes before the admissions admin had finished the sentence. But what about Primus? Well, he was quite high in the queue, but they are only offering one class in his year, and he’s not top 10. So he’s welcome to come, but much less likely to get in.
So we went for the Open Day with Secondus (Primus being a teenage role model stayed in bed). Now it is a good 20-30 minutes away by public bus, whereas current school is 200m from our door, which is a worry for an 11yo who is a little afraid of the language skills needed to navigate the public transport system, and hasn’t really travelled independently before. However, we went to see it.
And it’s wonderful. It’s a closed campus right next door to the transport and retail hub in the science and technically focused suburb of Kista (Swedish friends will know it as the old KTH campus). Secondus experienced a few lessons, taught in English, and we got to pump the staff for information.
Talking about it together with Secondus made us realise that this is the environment he needs in Sweden. Where he can let his natural talents in Maths and Design flourish without the language barrier, while allowing the Swedish abilities to catch up at their own pace.
And we were confirmed in our assessment that it is the right place for Primus too, for all the rationale we’d set out at the start.
So, now we wait while place offers to other children are accepted and places filled. Or not, moving both of them up the queue.
Last week, I received a call: now that all the first round offers had been responded to, IES Kista are delighted to formally offer a place to Secondus. There are of course paper forms to fill, but a simple email would confirm his place.
Dear Reader: that email went back to them the same day and the forms have now been filled in and sent.
And as you’d expect, having one sibling at a school is a weighting factor for the others’ queue status. So Primus was still too low to have full confidence of getting a place, but it was a moving target.
Next day, I received another call. Secondus’ acceptance has moved Primus so far up the queue, and his class have such a pattern of offers and acceptances, that they are formally offering Primus a place too. Same process to follow, but a firm offer.
So it looks like both boys have had their last day at HVSS, their last day of full Swedish immersion, and from August will be learning in English.
It’s sad in some ways, but the Right Thing for them.
I’d previously posted a time lapse video from my commute in glorious sunny autumn. Well, winter is here now, so here’s the same journey, with snow.
After a grey November, and dry December, we’d been hoping for a wee bit of snow for when my sister and family arrive on New Year’s Day.
Well, looks like Santa was listening and we’ve been on the Good list, as that’s what happened over Christmas. It’s been below -5C since Christmas Day, and we’ve had frost and snow since the 19th.
One of the joys of Stockholm is that it is full of water and green space. Combining both is the island of Djurgården, which contains (as its name would suggest) Stockholm’s zoo.
Ah, but it’s so much more than a zoo.
Yes, it contains small but pretty naturalistic enclosures for many native species, including Wolves, Brown Bears, Moose, Reindeer and European Bison. But it also contains many typical historic buildings, either specially constructed in reproduction or disassembled, transported and rebuilt on-site. UK visitors may be getting the sense of Ironbridge or Beamish, and that’s about right, but going back to pre-industrial times too.
The peak season for this is summer, but on Christmas Eve, it’s open for free, which makes for quite a lovely family afternoon out and as it’s on a hill, it wears out the little legs and ensures a good night’s sleep awaiting Santa.
So how did Protestant (at most, Atheist in closer reality) Sweden get obsessed with an Italian Catholic saint? I don’t know the history, but I’m sure it’s related to the closeness between
Lucia and the Swedish for light:
ljus, making it a perfect excuse to celebrate light in the darkest time of the year.
Either way, it’s a set of traditions that is almost impossible to escape. Everywhere are groups of white-clad, singing young women with candles. Everywhere you go, you are force-fed
lusekätter: saffron buns shaped like cats tails. By the end of Friday, I was quite lightheaded from Saffron overdose, having had them pushed on me:
In addition, processional choirs of young women with candles are prevalent. I had one in reception at the office, and Lucy (revelling in the day as you can imagine) had one at SFI. And there was an internal school one before classes on Friday – apparently to be repeated for parents next Friday
You even get them in Shopping Centres:
And almost every window in the city has an arch of lights shining out. All we need now is some snow for them to glitter off.
Continue reading St Lucy’s Day
Our family has been obsessively following the situation of the Gävle Goat (‘Goat’ is ‘Get’ in Swedish, and like all Gs followed by soft vowels like E, is roughly pronounced “Yevle Yet”).
It’s a thing both pitiful and hilarious: a huge straw goat erected every Advent in the major town square, but for many years has been torched, presumably as a witty student jape. Some cities have statues to add traffic cones to as their major drunken student temptation, Gävle has a huge flammable goat.
The history is truly awful, reading like an extended version of Swamp Castle.
This year, the town was determined that it should survive. So they moved it to be right next to the taxi rank, put a webcam on it (despite 2009’s experience) and set up a Twitter account to proclaim its ongoing survival, greeting the dawn of each new day of life.
Investigative report: my late night visitors turned out to be own security team on watch patrol while I was asleep. Puh! #Gavlegoat
— Gävlebocken (@Gavlebocken) December 9, 2014
In our house, we’re getting really quite obsessed. Lucy has the webcam open in a constant browser tab and checks many times a day. And we do a daily report at breakfast.
We decided it needed a name, rather than just being “The Gävle Goat”. And I did my usual Eddie Izzard thing and plumped for “Geoff”. Because “Geoff the Gävle Goat” or “Yeff the Yevle Yet” is just funny.
And then this happened:
— Lucy Burns (@pollianicus) December 10, 2014
and then Geoff responded:
— Gävlebocken (@Gavlebocken) December 10, 2014
Hmm I started this post in October.
I reckon I’d better get it published otherwise it’ll be Christmas!
I can’t begin to describe how beautiful Stockholm is in Autumn. Because the city is so much open space, with so many deciduous trees, October is a riot of rich warm colours. Every tree has a little carpet of gold around it, stunning in sunshine, but still wonderful by streetlight after dark.
I haven’t even started to capture the overall power of this, but here are a few hints.
Our back garden through the season. Compare the difference a few weeks makes to the foliage in our garden.
And in between, the year’s first snow!