education

I did never know so full a voice issue from so empty a heart…

theprimaryhead1 Comment

images

There was a bit of Twitter chat on male and female teachers today. Is it right that there is a shortage of male teachers? Are women better teachers? Do heads prefer a specific gender with which to populate their school? You will be thrilled to know that I don’t know the answer to these questions and I would balk from answering them as I haven’t done any research. I haven’t, for example, set up three schools, one with all male teachers, one with all female teachers and a control school with, yes you’ve guessed it, no teachers. And I haven’t then observed these schools over a period of ten years to see which of them achieves the highest percentage of Level 6 scores in the spelling, punctuation and grammar test.

I also haven’t conducted experiments with myself such as ‘Skinner’s Pavlova’ whereupon I enter a classroom blindfolded and after observing a lesson declare the teacher to be male or female, resulting in a shard of meringue being fired into my open mouth or getting electrocuted in the face, depending on whether I was right or not.

No, I think it would be wise of me not to answer – plus I’ve kind of already written a little bit about it here. But what I will say is that when I go about the task of selecting a teacher to join my school I don’t care whether they are a man or a woman, I care about their abilities as a teacher. (I’m great aren’t I?) But there is one very important trait that I observe that will help me make up my mind and, if I’m honest, certain elements of this trait, in my experience, are more prevalent in one gender than the other. I won’t tell you which and what – that can be a little game for you to play.

For this very important trait I’ve turned it into a question and I’ve compiled multiple answers for which I have a point system that I won’t share with you now as I wouldn’t want to ruin your fun. If you like, you can come up with your own point system and use it at school when you’re interviewing or maybe just in the staffroom as a bit of self amusement. This is great. It’s like devaluing education and putting teaching on a par with some teen magazine questionnaire about deciding which member of ‘No Direction’ you’d be best suited to having a short term and emotionally devoid relationship with. This is exactly the kind of thing education needs; Nicky Morgan, take note and let’s go….good luck everybody – and just so you believe that I really don’t value the sexes differently, I would like to convey that luck equally to both men and all you lovely ladies.

@theprimaryhead’s big question:

Do you have a special teacher voice?

  1. No, I talk to children the same way that I speak to adults in the staffroom accept  with less swearing (for primary teachers at least; I imagine you secondary lot swear like dockers as you struggle to maintain control of the hooligans that you blame us for creating)
  2. Yes. Normally I speak in a, well, normal voice. When put in charge of a class of kids however I feel compelled to use what I consider to be modern vernacular in order to hoodwink the children into thinking that I have my finger on the pulse and that I relate to them. The hit ratio is horrendously low – I may start off using current phrases but will soon descend into using words from TOWIE Season one and trying to crowbar a reference to Gangnam Style during a PE lesson. I will eventually use phrases that wouldn’t seem out of place in a 1950s documentary about teenagers – do you dig it Daddio?
  3.  Yes. If you and I were having a conversation you would hear and understand me perfectly and you would be able to stand at a reasonably close distance to me – when you enter my classroom you will see that tone, pitch, volume and an assumption that anyone else can speak English are vocal considerations that I have neither the time nor inclination for. My voice becomes more of a strangled harsh bark of the highest register and my vowels come out shorter than your average consonant, unless the word I’m saying is a ‘filler’ word in which case the vowel sound will be stretched to such an extent that it makes a Reception phonic lesson sound like a condensed rap performed by Alvin and his band of chipmunks: Noooowwwwww, riiiiiiight, okaaaaaaayyyyyy, liiiiiisten pleeeeeaaaaase. I also like to stress the main ‘learning’ words so that children are quickly trained to pick up on key vocabulary without actually hearing them in context and I always phrase my questions in such a way that it is impossible to choose the wrong option.
  4. Yes. When I speak to children, particularly in independent work time or during break/lunch/registration, I tend to sound like I’m auditioning for a part in ‘The Wire’. I mumble, assume that all children have an intricate knowledge of ghetto lifestyles and often end each sentence with a question such as ‘You feel me?’ or ‘Ain’t that right bruv?’ It’s almost as if I think children won’t tolerate or respect the vocal honesty in my plummy Received Pronunciation accent.

So there you are. How did you do? And did you spot the man or the woman or do we all have an equal chance in being vocal idiots? I will let you decide, but for the record, and based on the results of all my extensive research into the matter, I know which answer I’d go for. And that means that not only do I have a higher chance of dating Harry Styles but that I also have the perfect teacher voice, init?

Thanks but no thanks.

theprimaryhead13 Comments

Thank-You-word-cloud

I have chatted to three other headteachers recently about a particular issue concerning leadership that irks me: giving thanks.

Now, forgive me for saying, but I think I’m actually quite a nice boss. I’m fair, honest, open, understanding and (for the most part and when I’m not being hilarious) calm. I have only shouted once in my career as a leader and felt like such an idiot afterwards vowed never to again. I don’t publicly or privately humiliate people and I never confront someone out in the open but if a challenging conversation is needed it is done sensitively in the privacy of a closed office.

I also tend to let people have their way. You want to go home early because your partner has booked a long weekend away for your birthday and he didn’t realise you were a teacher and can’t have time off mid-term? Alright. As long as you can get cover for your class sorted go for it, have a nice time. You’re going to find it difficult to get the Term 3 data in on time because it coincided with your cousin’s birthday and it’s been a busy term. Oh, ok, well as long as it’s done before the end of term that should be fine, I don’t mind spending my holiday reviewing it and I’m not reporting it to governors after half term anyway so yeah, don’t worry. Your reports are not going to be in on time? Well, I suppose I haven’t finished writing all of my comments on everyone else’s yet so if I don’t get yours until Monday that shouldn’t really be a problem, I’ll just rush them off in the morning, no worries.

You see? Quite reasonable. I don’t get cross, I don’t look disappointed. I just very quickly and rationally weigh up the pros and cons and think – if I can accommodate this will it be a real problem? Over the years I have granted such ad-hoc requests to pretty much every member of staff so I feel the balance and order across the school is at a constant equilibrium: there isn’t one particular member of staff who is ‘always’ making such requests (otherwise that would warrant one of those chats in a private office).

I don’t know if I am too lenient or more lenient that other headteachers. All I know is that I don’t like confrontation; as long as stuff does get done pretty much on time everything will be alright; as long as staff are independent and responsible for keeping themselves in the loop the school will carry on successfully; and I’m human. We all need a bit of leniency from time to time don’t we? From the mundane requests to work from home because a fridge is being delivered to the exceptional: going way above and beyond the standard number of days for compassionate leave because, well, it was clear they needed it. I see this as being an effective leader for the people and for the school, after all, look after the one and the other will be taken care of too.

There is also another, slightly more ‘senior leader’ aspect to me being the most gracious and wonderful leader in the history of schooling: I’m a banker. No, that isn’t a typo, I am a banker. I store all these requests that I grant, with a smile and a ‘don’t worry’, in my mental bank of back scratchers. For I know there will come a time when I request something that will require them to go the extra mile or will put them out of their comfort zone and I don’t mind doing that if I can back it up with past favours. This isn’t blackmail; I don’t get my little black book out and say ‘On the 14th May you asked if you could not come into celebration assembly because you wanted to book your travel insurance and I agreed; therefore you will stay here tonight until midnight or until all the children have been set up with individual blogging accounts.’ No, it’s more a case of getting everyone to accept that at times we rely on the kindness of others.

So what is it that irks me? Well it came to my attention recently that there is a perception, from some staff, that I don’t appreciate them and never say thanks or well done. I was genuinely surprised by this. I (honestly) think, that as well as being a very ‘human’ and compassionate headteacher, I actually praise staff all the time. I do so in staff meetings, in newsletters, in person and through the act of supplying them with more buffets a year than your typical wedding planners. And yet, there is still this perception that I don’t thank people. Interestingly, all the other headteachers said the same and commented that ‘no staff ever think management thank them enough.’ I find this simultaneously interesting, worrying and if I’m honest, bloody annoying.

What I find interesting is how far from the mark I have obviously been when it comes to how individuals want to be thanked. Clearly, being nice, accommodating, jolly, smiley, never getting publicly cross, creating a pleasant work environment and thanking people when they deserve it and doing all of this consistently for everyone, isn’t enough. Some people want more and this is also what I find worrying because I don’t know if I could ever satisfy their collective thirst for praise. Actually I can quench a collective thirst, it’s all the individual perceptions of how I should thank people that I’ll never be able to manage. It’s easy for them as all they have to worry about is one person: me. They all know what I want and how I work and my expectations. As for me? I’m expected to know and respond to every single employees personal preferences concerning how they want to be treated. My overall consistency isn’t good enough because it doesn’t tick all of everyone’s boxes. This, then adds to my annoyance. Not because I’m ungrateful or I feel undervalued but for the simple reason that it seems like the deck is not stacked in my favour.

No person in the entire school is as scrutinised and judged as me. Everyone will comment on my behaviour, choice of words, mood, facial expression and condemn me the moment any inconsistency arises and yet I am also expected to accept every single one of their inconsistencies and understand the hidden, personal backstory as to why they have acted or spoken the way they have or else risk being branded as ‘insensitive’. This seems not just unfair (and hey, I know I get paid more and it’s my job so I should just quit moaning) but more importantly it seems impossible. There is also, as one of the headtechers pointed out, the very real fact that we do not get thanked regularly by everyone (yes I know, and I refer you to the previous bracket concerning pay and job description and me getting over it) but shouldn’t staff feel some responsibility for the well-being of their headteacher just a little bit? I however, don’t expect thanks for just doing my job, so how much thanks should teachers expect for just doing theirs?

So I intend to spend the summer holidays reflecting on ways that I can show appreciation in the hope that people will value it. In doing so I have some questions to consider:

• How much may I have to change my perception in what to give thanks for?

• Do I care that some people don’t think I thank enough?

• What difference would a little more acknowledgement make – even for things that I don’t personally feel warrant it?

• To what extent should my staff accept my inconsistencies and quirks?

• What will I do if I change and I thank more but in a year’s time get told that I hardly ever say thank you?

Stressing the point

theprimaryhead11 Comments

stress

I am very nervous about this post. I would almost go as far as saying that I’m feeling rather stressed about it – but considering what I’m going to say, you could then accuse me of being, at the very least, contradictory or, at worst, an insensitive and flippant madman. I feel like I should add a multitude of disclaimers in order to protect myself from what I imagine could be an onslaught of upset and hate-fuelled replies and, as it’s the holidays, I’d like my inbox to be free from those sorts of emails, for the next six weeks at least. I have been toying with the concept of this post for a long time now but have always shied away from it for fear of being misunderstood or accused of not understanding, but after reading the latest ‘Secret Teacher’ article in the Guardian, I figured – ah sod it, put it out there.

Right, enough of this flirting – let’s get down to business. No more teasing, I’ll just come right out and say it. Ok. Here goes.

Look, before I say it, I just want to want to make it absolutely abundantly clear that I have a lot of empathy in me, right? And that I’m not one of those mental illness deniers. For example, I don’t think the solution to depression is to ‘just cheer up’.

Ok, deep breath. (Don’t judge me/hate me/unfollow me – especially not the last one.)

Stress.

Now, stop it, stop it. I can see your fingers twitching; I can already read the reply you are composing in your head: ‘Well, well, well, another Head who doesn’t understand. Another Head who has no idea of the pressures we’re under and who thinks that stress is made up and who thinks that everyone is a slacker unless they’ve developed a sleep pattern akin to that of Margaret Thatcher. Well, I pity his staff. Quick, ring the unions and tribunal him to within an inch of his SEF! See how he likes it.’

Firstly, I do know the pressures we’re all under and of course I want everyone at my school to have a work/life balance. Secondly, I don’t think stress is made up.

However, I think the word ‘stress’ can be, at times, misused and it is this that I have a problem with.

In its purest form, stress is a debilitating condition that requires recognition and support, and in that I am unwavering. If you are stressed because there is something going on that is external or additional to the daily pressures of your job then I would agree that you are suffering from stress. Whether I, or anyone else, would feel the same level of stress is neither here nor there: ‘it’ is stressing you out and this is impacting heavily on your life, meaning that you cannot do your job. I would definitely count this as the type of ‘stress’ that warrants as much support as we can throw at it. Whether it be through an occupational health referral, time off work, a carefully thought out return to work plan, coaching, therapy, reduced hours, diminished responsibilities…whatever. Whatever you need in order to get through ‘it’ so that when you break through the other side you are fit and well and can carry on – it will be worth it. We all have our own burdens that at times get on top of us and we all, at times, need a bit of extra help.

What do I mean by ‘something going on that is external or additional to the daily pressures of your job’? Well, it could be personal – a death, a divorce, an illness, an attack, whatever else you can think of/have experienced; or it could still be work related, especially if your conditions have changed drastically over a very short time frame or if something has happened at school that is resulting in you getting a lot of extra ‘heat’. All of this comes under the banner ‘I didn’t sign up for this; obviously I’m trying my best but I need help or else it may be the end of me’. And in my book all these warrant support and deserve the term: stress.

So, why am I writing this post? Well I’m worried mainly because I think the word ‘stress’ has become hijacked and the culprits are giving stress a bad name – or, to be more accurate, they’ve replaced other words with the word ‘stress’. Which words do I consider have been synonymised? Well let’s start with: confused, naïve, unhappy, incapable and, in extreme cases, incompetent.

Stop it! I knew that last sentence would get you worked up again. Remember: if you have suffered (and I mean really suffered) from stress, I’m not talking about you – I’m on your side.

I’m talking about those people that cannot seem to be able to cope with doing their job. I don’t intend for that to sound cruel; I mean it in a matter of fact way. The academic timetable is a tough one to adhere to and there are multiple check points along the way that are designed to gently test your accountability – in addition to that there are many extra-curricular activities that you are also expected to partake in. I would argue that what we do, day in and day out, hasn’t really changed over the years, but that the ways in which we are held accountable have. The kicker here is that if you can do your job well and can stick to the academic timetable these accountability measures shouldn’t be a problem. If they are a problem (and as long as your SLT aren’t insane megalomaniacs, hell bent on running you and the rest of the school into the ground) then it may be a case of being a teacher just ain’t for you.

Again, I’m not trying to belittle you like some horrendous Gordon Ramsay – branding you weak and pathetic whilst chucking lumps of chalk at you from across the classroom; I’m just saying maybe you shouldn’t be a teacher. Take this week’s Guardian’s Secret Teacher. At one point they say: “I have periods where I love it (usually the last day of term) and periods where I hate it (usually that first Monday back in January).” If going back to work to do your job fills you with dread every Monday or start of term – you’re not unduly stressed, you just either really don’t enjoy your job or you can’t do it. No shame in that but, well, try leaving.

I find it particularly odd when teachers seem to think that because they find the pressures of the job exactly that – a pressure – that they immediately remove themselves from any responsibility. Are you surprised that teaching is difficult? Was it a shock that we work after 3pm and that at times we dream about school? If you are shocked that teaching is a tough racket then you have two options: refine your perspective and start doing the job as outlined in the job description/teaching standards or find a job that matches your expectations.

Written down in black and white I know this seems extraordinarily cold. But look at it from my point of view. If you are struggling, I will help. Of course I will; it is in my interest for you to be a great teacher who can finish each term having done all that was required to a good standard in order for you to enjoy your holiday and come back next term ready to roll. I will do whatever it takes to help you. But, if we find that you just can’t do it, then the pressure your underperformance puts on others also begins to become a problem. Now I’m not saying that to stress you out, but, do you ever stop and wonder how the other teachers manage it? Because most do. They do their job and they’re happy. And my expectations of them are the same as they are of you. So what is their secret and why haven’t you asked them? If your default reaction to stress is that because you don’t like it, it should be taken away from you and that no-one could possibly do the things expected of you then I would argue that you are either working at the wrong school under the wrong school leaders or that you are worryingly and disproportionally out of touch with the realities of teaching, stubbornly refusing to look inside yourself for an answer.

Therein lies my biggest worry over the use of the word stress: it stops people from reflecting. It stops them from thinking: can I do this? Then, logically, their thoughts become distorted and they begin to unrealistically believe that they shouldn’t have to do all the work, that it’s not fair and that the stress they are feeling through ‘not coping’ means that the job should change rather than them, but sadly that isn’t going to happen. Sorry.

So there we are. Am I the worst Head ever? No. (Thought I’d answer that one for you.) Do I get stressed? Absolutely. But I know why: the job is tough. But I can change and adapt and reflect and prioritise and ask for appropriate help and therefore I get the job done. Part of my job is also making sure my staff get the job done too, and I take that very seriously. If you’re stressed, if you can’t sleep because you’re worried about school, come and tell me and I’ll do what I can. All I ask is that you are honest about the job you have to do and your abilities to do it. If you can do that then maybe you’ll be able to sleep at night.