The fifth and final installment of Steve McQueen’s Small Axe anthology, Education tells the story of a young boy named Kingsley who finds himself shunted into a school for the “educationally subnormal” — in other words, a school in which certain students, a large proportion of whom happen to be of West Indian descent, are segregated from the general population and left to rot. As Kingsley’s mother teams up with a group of other West Indian women working to guarantee their children the education — and the future — they deserve, the proverb from which the anthology takes its name comes to furious life on screen. And while the tree that is the racist education system does not fall by the time the end credits roll, one is still left inspired by their efforts — not to mention, the entirety of the Small Axe saga.
Live and Learn
Kingsley Smith (newcomer Kenyah Sandy) is a bright and energetic 12-year-old who dreams of becoming an astronaut. However, despite an aptitude for math and science, Kingsley struggles to read. No help is to be had from his teacher, who brutally insults Kingsley when he fumbles his turn to read out loud instead of offering the boy the empathy and guidance that he deserves. Kingsley’s hardworking mother, Agnes (Sharlene Whyte), assumes that her son is just not trying hard enough, repeatedly dismissing him as a “heap of trouble” in comparison with his elder sister, aspiring fashion designer Stephanie (Tamara Lawrence), while Kingsley’s father, Esmond (Daniel Francis), doesn’t see any reason why Kingsley shouldn’t just forget about school and come apprentice with him as a carpenter.
After Kingsley is sent to the headmaster’s office for goofing off with his friends, he is dealt a bombshell: he is being transferred to a “special” school that supposedly caters to children who have trouble learning. However, this school is little more than a holding pen for children who have been deemed “educationally subnormal” in some way or another; they’ve been sent away not for any special help, but in order to not “bring down the standard” of the British school system. Needless to say, Kingsley is not the only student there whose primary problem seems to be having the nerve to be Black. Half the time the teachers don’t show up, and when they do, they put in minimal effort, playing folk songs on the guitar or reading monotonously from beginner-level books. One teacher even tells Kingsley at recess to “swing from the trees like you’re back home in the jungle” before storming off to have a smoke.
One day, the school is visited by a kindly young woman named Hazel Lewis (Naomie Ackie), a psychologist who is working with a prominent member of the West Indian community, Lydia Thomas (Josette Simon) to identify Black children who have been placed in these schools and help get them out. At first, Agnes is reluctant to believe Lydia when she visits her home and warns her that Kingsley’s new school is not what she has been told, but after attending a community meeting in which others share similar experiences of prejudice and segregation — children who were assumed to be stupid just because of their strong accents, or flat-out ignored so that they never learned to read before graduating — she is fired up to fight for her son’s future.
Wonder Women
A necessary ode to the power of Black women, especially when they come together to fight for a common cause, Education thrives on the basis of its central performances. Indeed, this film, co-written by McQueen with his Mangrove and Alex Wheatle collaborator Alastair Siddons, feels less reliant on the artistry of the filmmaking crew to tell the story than previous Small Axe installments, and far more reliant on the actors involved. Elements like production design and soundtrack, the specific details of which played such a prominent role in other Small Axe films like Lovers Rock and Alex Wheatle, fade into the background in favor of some stellar acting. And while newcomer Sandy is delightful and deeply sympathetic as Kingsley, it is the women around him, fighting on his behalf, that carry the film on their stalwart shoulders.
The standout is Whyte as Agnes, whose deeply protective love for her son leads her to take her fight all the way up to the top levels of the British government. The evolution of her character over the course of the film as she gradually learns to trust in Lydia and Hazel over the powers that be is one that even the most reluctant revolutionary should be able to identify with; when she storms into the headmaster’s office at Kingsley’s old school to announce she’s appealing their decision to send him away, you’ll want to stand up and cheer. Whyte is ably supported by Ackie as the kindhearted Hazel, Simon as the fiery Lydia, Lawrence as the sympathetic Stephanie, and Jo Martin as the wonderful Tabitha Bartholomew, who leads a supplemental Saturday school where Kingsley finally discovers — courtesy of a book on African kings and queens — the joy of reading.
Education focuses specifically on the efforts of West Indian women to stop their children from being thrown into these so-called schools just because of the color of their skin. Yet as someone with a mentally disabled younger sibling, I personally was left disturbed at the notion that the other students at the school depicted in the film — many of whom are shown as having behavioral difficulties, such as one little girl who compulsively makes animal noises — were to be left there with their uncaring, absentee teachers and no one to fight on their behalf.
This film is at its heart a story about racism, not ableism; it’s about improving education for Black children who were discriminated against because of their background, not children with learning disabilities and other obstacles not connected to race. That’s fine; that is the story we expected McQueen to tell here, and naturally, he tells it well. To deal with the fight to reform the education system for children with disabilities would require a whole other film in order for that story to be told properly. Even so, I was left haunted by those other children left behind at this school for the “educationally subnormal,” all of whom deserved better too. Because of this, despite its many strengths, Education was the only Small Axe film that left me wanting more.
Conclusion
Education was not originally supposed to be the finale of the Small Axe film anthology; that honor was to be bestowed upon the John Boyega-starring examination of racism inside London’s Metropolitan Police, Red, White and Blue. Yet both films fill the role of conclusion well in a rather ironic fashion, in that both are open-ended, leaving a door open for reform — whether it be the police or the education system — without guaranteeing it. Both films end on a note of hope that modern audiences may actually find quite bleak, for we know what is to come; when Lydia notes that the new Secretary of State for Education is Margaret Thatcher, the audience knows better than the characters that help from her is not likely.
Yet what the Small Axe anthology repeatedly tells us over the course of these five films is that looking for help from the powers that be is almost always a fruitless endeavor anyways; if you want to make real change, you have to fight for it yourself, even in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds. Even the largest, stubbornest tree can fall if repeatedly and resolutely hacked away at by a small axe. If there was ever a message to take away from the year that has been 2020, it is that.
What do you think? What was your favorite film in the Small Axe anthology? Share your thoughts in the comments below.
Small Axe: Education begins streaming on Amazon Prime on December 18, 2020.
Watch Small Axe: Education
Does content like this matter to you?
Become a Member and support film journalism. Unlock access to all of Film Inquiry`s great articles. Join a community of like-minded readers who are passionate about cinema – get access to our private members Network, give back to independent filmmakers, and more.
Join now!
