Attainment Advisor, Karen Pryde, makes the case for effective partnership working between youth work and schools to ensure that ALL young people can access personalised learning pathways that enable them to engage and thrive.
Two numbers with three syllables and juggling hand motion have echoed around me for weeks – “6-7.” Born from a TikTok video, the craze of “six-seven” has swept across borders, classrooms, and even crept into politics when the UK Prime Minister sent a class into hysterics doing the moves, sharing some kind of ‘in-joke,’ like a linguistic version of a secret handshake. The odd thing? It has no real meaning. It’s not a word or a number – more an expression, a mood. Like the previous trend “skibidi” or “Whassup” from the early 2000s, these trends grip our sense of humour. Their absurdity becomes their greatest strength.
But why do they stick? What is it that makes this trend, and others before them, so compelling? I think it’s about identity – like having a nickname (I’ll spare you mine!). Language is not just about meaning; it is about belonging. That sense of belonging is powerful. We all crave connection with groups, places, and shared experiences that shape our lives. For me, that started in school and my community. Growing up, neighbours looked out for each other – like family. That sense of belonging, regardless of income, housing, employment and health domains, shaped my values and sense of identity. Schools provided diversity of opportunity and a shared identity for the year groups passing through them, sharing the “in-jokes” of our generational season. We bonded over embarrassing, hilarious, and life-changing moments – Mrs Hunter teaching us to waltz in PE, exploring mature themes in The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, or inventing the Mega Marching Mania Party for a mock election. Great teachers made ordinary lessons extraordinary, stretching us to achieve our potential. Not every lesson inspired me, but I learned about my strengths, weaknesses, and built resilience. I once assumed university was out of reach, but a teacher drove me to Stirling University, making higher education a real possibility. I never believed that I couldn’t go, but I also didn’t recognise that I could. That teacher made university a reality for me.
Alongside school, youth clubs reinforced this sense of community and provided further opportunities to develop foundational meta-skills to test and explore the world around me, equipping me for life and work. I experienced social justice before I understood the term. Youth work positively shaped my life personally and professionally. Youth clubs and holiday playschemes added more layers. My confidence increased through project-based learning – Curriculum for Excellence in action before its time. We played sports, listened to music, staged shows, helped at discos, and decorated floats for the local gala. These experiences strengthened belonging through experiential learning and shaped my engagement in learning, in and out of school.
Youth workers and teachers were social anchors, offering distinct but complementary pedagogies, an expansive curriculum and a range of engaging contexts for learning. Together they tackled poverty-related barriers and promoting equity without fanfare. It was the richness and diversity of the educational experiences that they offered between them that prepared me for my future.
These experiences led me to work in the Third Sector for 12 years before joining Education Scotland as an Attainment Advisor for the Scottish Attainment Challenge. I have also been a local youth worker, giving back what was given to me. My journey through education and youth work drives my commitment to equity and excellence for Scotland’s children and young people. The most effective examples I have seen come from authentic partnerships.
In celebrating #Educationneedsyouthwork, I return to where we began – “6-7.” Trends like “6-7” may seem trivial, but they remind us that belonging is often found in the subtle gestures and shared experiences that make us feel included. For me, those moments in both school and youth work were bridges – linking where I was to where I could go. Today, when I see young people laughing over a trend like “6-7,” I’m reminded that belonging still starts with connection. If we nurture that in our school and youth work partnerships, we don’t just close gaps, we build pathways to opportunity, resilience, and possibility.