primary education

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.

Goodbye-ee Goodbye-ee, Wipe that tear, baby dear, from your eye-ee

theprimaryhead3 Comments

goodbye_024

A lot of the end of the year is about saying goodbye and wishing everyone a good summer. This should be jubilant or at the very least cathartic – especially when saying farewell to the pupils and parents for the summer. I mean for a start there are the gifts: yes teachers, I know I may no longer fare as well as you with your bottles of wines, your chocolates and your novelty ties or even your garish mugs littered with amusing spelling errers; but I get the handshakes, the comments on what a good year, the very odd card (no I don’t get as many as you although I’ll argue mine mean more because they really didn’t have to send me one) and the surprisingly touching comment ‘I Hope you have a nice holiday because you really deserve one’.  

Then there’s the emotional juggernaut that is the Year 6 leaver’s assembly which should pack enough punch that by the end of it no one should be able to manage anything – even the simple task of picking up a felt tip pen and badly signing a shirt without blubbing and collapsing into a weeping heap on the floor.

It’s a funny thing the Year 6 leaver’s assembly: you get the full range of emotion. First there are the photos and the memories where everyone is happy and laughing. Parents nudge each other and smile; the children giggle and put their arms around their buddies; teachers and staff look on and feel genuine pride in the knowledge that their work here is now done.  Then comes the song, with a song-choice so contrived in order to manipulate the tear ducts of the parents that I wouldn’t be surprised if the producers of The X-Factor book themselves into every school leaver’s assembly to choose the show’s set-list. And then they’re off! (I mean the crying starts not the children just get up and leave.) I stand at the back and I see it all: children really crying, children trying to cry, children looking at the ones crying wondering if they should start crying and the ones who are crying with laughter because they can’t believe some of their friends are actually crying.

I have stopped enjoying the Year 6 leaver’s assembly since becoming a Head. I still feel pride when I see them up on stage and (hopefully) still stand back and think ‘we did alright by you, you’re ready’ but I don’t enjoy them. Mainly because I know at the end I’ll have to say a few words. Now normally I love nothing more than holding court and speaking to my people but, on this occasion, it worries me. You see, I can’t help feeling that the parents are thinking that this is their last chance to mutiny. For years they’ve had to publicly sit there and suck it up – all the drivel that comes out of my mouth as I pontificate at the start or end of any school social engagement. Yes they go on about it on Facebook, but never to my face and never in public but now…what have they got to lose? What am I going to do? Ban them from the playground? So I say my words whilst looking for the first signs of dissent. The eye-rolls, the slow hand-claps, the humming, the standing up on a chair and shouting ‘You’re an appalling man who is ruining the lives of all children.’ But so far…they haven’t done it. Not sure why, they’re probably wrapped up in their own kids rather than my angst the selfish swines.

Sometimes you have to say goodbye to staff and occasionally that goodbye represents huge tectonic shifts in the running of the school. A key member of SLT is leaving or a deputy or someone who has been there for decades is finally off. ‘What does that mean?’ people will ask. Does this mark some iconic clash of ideology and is the school now going to hell in a handcart? The answer is normally ‘no’ but that may not stop some people from hypothesising – very publicly. These are normally people who are unhappy themselves but don’t have the gumption to actually do anything about it or leave. Sadly they fail to see the actual talent in the people who are leaving and assume that it must be personal (which says more about them and is actually quite derogatory to the beloved people leaving but there you are).

At times like these the phrase ‘end of an era’ normally gets bandied around more freely than a loom band at wet play. I dislike this phrase when talking about schools. It encourages a rose-tinted view of the past that then suggests what is happening now is not as good. And this, in my opinion, is distorted, unhealthy and ignores the obvious: everyone in a school at any given time is trying to do what the school needs at that given time. Yes it may be different to the past, yes it may need different personnel to do the job and yes, sometimes it is reacting to a shift in the national picture but that is what happens if a school is doing its job: it responds to the needs evident in its community; the minute a school stands still it is dead in the water.

When reflecting back on the achievements and contributions of others in a school’s past, I prefer to use the word ‘legacy’. What legacy have they left behind? This supports the notion that whatever they did, they did it with the intention of improving the school and the provision and care of its pupils. We should all be thinking about the legacy that we will leave when we finally push off – because then we’ll be focussed on the children who are in the school now and our contribution to that school will be valid and purposeful.  

A Head once said to me that he disliked it when Heads talked about ‘their school’ in a way that suggested no one else could take over after them. He said that if a school can’t be managed after one person at the top goes then how could anyone say that that Head was any good? (The same can be applied to the class teacher whose class is only well behaved if they are there – that is not a thing to be proud of, that poor behaviour in your absence means you have some more work to do.) The legacy of any leader should be that when they go, it’s easy for someone to take over the role, keep things ticking over with minimal disruption until they spot the next thing that needs to change. Reflecting on a ‘big’ staff change that has happened in my school – the outgoing leader can be assured that he has done just that and he leaves a lasting legacy behind.

Then there’s the packing up. I can pack up my car in about two minutes, the only thing that holds me up is if I get stuck behind a teacher on the way to the car park who is struggling carrying all the bags clinking with wine and rattling with boxes of maltesers. There is also the staff do where I will spend my time trying to avoid anyone who looks like they have drunk enough to tell me what they really think about me. Finally there are the last goodbyes where we all wish each other a great summer and say ‘see you in September’ even though we all know we’ll see each other tomorrow because we need to go back to school because there’s a memory stick there that we just can’t do without over August.

Happy holidays!

Post-script

Yet with all these goodbyes and all the emotions I still find the last day of Term 6 a bit of an anti-climax. Don’t get me wrong, nothing beats the first morning of the summer holidays where you realise you really are on holiday – but the actual end of the year, well it always feels like a bit of let-down. On reflection I think this is self-imposed.  I mean why do we fixate on the end of the year? Why do I set the last day of term as the day where I should be able to sit back and say ‘There – everything is done’? That is madness! It also puts on a lot of meaningless pressure on me and everyone else. We feel the need to dot every i and cross every t because…because what? It’s the end? I spend my whole time saying ‘schools are constantly evolving, schools never stand still, your work is never done’ and yet I feel this burden to get everything completed as if the school is going to be entered into some weird end of year competition and I want to win ‘best in show’. What am I trying to ‘complete’ and why am I trying to complete it at a point in time where no one is going to see it for six weeks? I am in idiot!

It was Michael Gove’s exit as secretary of state for education that made me realise my folly. Focussing on getting to the summer holidays as if it is some sort of mecca mirrors my feelings over his promotion to Chief Whip. It was something I had been dreaming about for months, but when it happened I was too busy trying to remember how to assemble the staging for the summer performance to care about it, and come September, when I return to school, I’ll realise that everything is still just the same without him. So cheers Michael, your work here is done, sadly, I fear, your legacy will be around for a lot longer.

Game of Shadows

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Capture

According to Dr Avis Glaze there are 21 trends for the 21st century that will have a profound impact on education and therefore the whole of society. During her talk at #ILConf2014 we were asked to pick our top trend. I chose number 16.

A spotlight will fall on how people gain authority and use it.

I chose this as it seemed to me to be a worrying example of locking a stable door after the horse has bolted, set up a meth lab, organised a red wedding and is now trying to become president of the United States.

For any cats without a Netflix subscription let me explain. The authority has already been gained, in shadowy darkness, and the spotlight, by shining on how it is being used, has been turned on too late.

You just have to cast your eyes over the ‘Trojan horse’ headlines concerning those handful of schools in Birmingham that have hogged the spotlight recently. These schools illustrate not the faults of Islam extremism but of the subversion of power within a particular type of school. As local authorities fracture, the cracks have been filled with unregulated systems of power.

Is it surprising that in these schools there are stories of governing bodies becoming distorted with an over-representation of a single-minded vision that has gradually suffocated and silenced the Head? Allowed to operate outside the local authority and with less checks than state maintained schools, for academies, there is no spotlight except for Ofsted.

And when the corruption and damage to a school-full of young people is finally exposed it should prompt the ultimate powers that be to re-think the system; instead however, their solution is to maintain the organisational status quo whilst trying to now catch everyone else unawares.

Sadly it doesn’t stop there. What about those academies where it is not the governors who are operating under the radar and on the sly, but the Heads themselves? Never mind the pathological lying crazies who syphon off the school budget to pay for parties, holidays, unaccountable pay-rises and an awful lot of shoes; what about the career nepotism? What about those organisations where the common interview is something that they have neither the time nor the inclination to bother with? I mean it is easier to invite someone for a cup of coffee and offer them a job whilst you’re dunking your hob-nobs, than go through the tedious process of shortlisting, putting in place a panel, coming up with tasks and actually putting a range of people through their paces in order to, you know, find the best person for the job, but hey…who’s watching?

I’m all for building up a team and spotting talent but I’m also a believer that the good will out. If I had someone in my mind who I wanted to get a job but found someone else better through interview then surely I still win. I get the best person, a nice clean conscience and the smug feeling that everyone else knows I make decisions for the school not for my convenience.

More importantly, if you do appoint through the nudge-nudge wink-wink system how are you building in accountability? How can you justify their authority and your integrity when the spotlight shines on your organisation and it casts no shadow? Your failings are always your own but at least when the gaining of authority has been proper, the processes you go through to sort out the problems are easier to put in place because we can rely on, oh what’s the word, ah, yes; we can rely on our professionalism.

Finally, and this seems like a far more trivial example of the 21st century gaining of authority than those mentioned already, what about twitter? Is it a sorry state of affairs that popular social media users gain authority, or if not authority, influence? I have experienced this first-hand (albeit on an exceedingly small scale) when I was asked to DfE to talk about the new national curriculum and life beyond levels. I was not asked because I am an outstanding Headteacher, or because I was an outstanding teacher or because I have contributed anything of significance to the world of education. I was asked because I tweet and have written one or two blogs about education that, if I’m lucky, contain the odd cheap gag. Is this really an appropriate acquisition of authority? Now don’t worry, I do not seriously consider myself to have any ‘authority’ with the DfE but the principle of government and policy makers allowing themselves to be influenced by social media commentators occasionally seems a bit worrying. I mean, can’t they think for themselves? Should they really go after popular opinion so lazily? Does a massively re-tweeted message necessarily contain a sensible idea?

Probably not.

But at least in the world of social media the spotlight is on. Those tweets and blogs are for everyone to read and opposition to any popular tweet is just as visible to anyone willing to be engaged. If, when the spotlight shines, the public do not like what they see, they will simply unfollow and the deranged ramblings will fade to black and cease to have any influence or authority.

The same cannot be said for those who have been allowed to have authority within a world of shadows.