Stressing the point

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.

Judge Me!

Lesson judgements: how valuable are they? A different question to how ‘valued’ are they? (Which if you believe what you read on Twitter the answer is um, well, what’s the least valued thing you own? Well smash it to pieces with a hammer and chuck it in the sea and you kind of get the idea.) I do however find them valuable. I don’t consider a lesson judgement to be the sealed fate of a teacher but they can help support an evolving picture of teaching and learning in someone’s classroom. They can also be the springboard for a quality discussion about a lesson that can lead into deeper discussions about pedagogy and teaching styles which for me is a welcome break from talking about pay policy, universal free school meals and whatever changes have been made to the new renewed just published finalised next draft of the Ofsted inspection framework.

On this particular matter of being pro-lesson judgements you are going to have to imagine that when I discuss the judgement with the teacher it is done nicely, appropriately and fairly. I appreciate that is a pretty big ask but just run with it.

Putting it bluntly (and this is not meant to represent the manner in which I offer my feedback and judgement) I think it is good for teachers to know:

a) How that individual lesson stood up against whatever observation criteria you are using in order to provide some kind of ‘benchmark’.

b) How that lesson contributes to the other evidence used to make a judgement of quality of teaching over time.

c) That I know what I’m talking about.

Anyone who has had to give a less than ‘good’ judgement during feedback will know that it is at those times that reason c) seems the most important. It’s one thing for a teacher to feel rubbish (because we all do when we’re told any part of our practice is not good) but at least they can be told by someone they trust. And again, you’re going to have to take my word for it that I know a thing or two about teaching…seriously just go with me here.

I think in reality, it is reason b) which has become vitally important to get across very, very loudly and clearly when feeding back and sharing a judgement. Not only because I feel that the most important judgement is that of quality of teaching over time rather than quality of teaching within an hour but also because it is the one reason that teachers tend not to hear no matter how clearly you try to make it. (Talk about a positive sandwich; teachers tend to need an extra side order of happy chips with an extra thick affirmative milkshake with a cherry on top – even then they’ll still focus on the hair that was found in the middle of the first bite)

So in case I haven’t made my thoughts clear: I like judging lessons.

But…

          But…

                       But…

Something happened recently that made me adapt my opinion. I haven’t changed my mind – I still think dissecting a lesson in order to make a judgement is still a perfectly sound and effective way of developing teaching BUT I’m wondering if it is more effective to share this with teachers when it isn’t about their teaching.

Let me explain: during a recent set of interviews, a teacher joined me in the lesson observations section. Throughout the lessons we were able to discuss what was happening and I was able to challenge the teacher into considering why a lesson had ‘tipped’ into RI or had become inadequate. Afterwards, the teacher reflected and said how they had found it interesting to see the process of judging lessons ‘from the other side’ and how by being detached from the teaching they were able to see more clearly the points at which during an individual lesson, judgements begin to get formed.

What followed was a short discussion about how these individual lessons could impact upon pupil achievement if the quality of the teaching remained at that level for a sustained period of time. Suddenly it became clear why an RI lesson needs to be analysed and issues addressed so that key pupils make progress rather than get left behind. The teacher said it was a genuinely interesting and valuable experience and possibly more so than their own observations.

So I began to wonder if it would be beneficial for all teachers to see all ranges of lessons done by other teachers. There would be no emotional attachment that can cloud key messages, opportunities to consider the impact of repeated exposure of unsuccessful lessons on pupil progress and the chance to compare particular lesson traits with your own. It’s a safe way to make strong judgements that can really support teachers improve and develop their own teaching.

It sounds ideal; there’s just one problem. How can I make sure teachers see unsuccessful lessons? Well I could constantly interview and select the worst candidates: not sure HR would approve. I could set up peer observations across the school and hope that most of the lessons are appalling – not sure that’s a particularly healthy way to run a school. Or I could teach. I could deliberately teach poor lessons and invite teachers to observe me and together we could identify why my lesson was not good. Although I am an outstanding teacher and like to think my staff agree and consider me to my a wise and knowledgeable  professional who knows how to successfully move every child on: I probably could force myself to teach inadequately time and time again. (Now, call me paranoid but I sense you are all finding that bit quite easy to believe!)

How do you solve a problem like Caleb?

#ToughYoungTeachers is bringing up many discussions on education and in episode two ‘behaviour’ was the topic of the day. This was mainly inspired by Caleb or to me more appropriate Caleb’s behaviour and attitude towards one particular TeachFirst teacher. There were those who considered the boy’s behaviour to be an indication that he was an intelligent and canny individual who was not being challenged and those who thought he was the epitome of what is wrong with education.

Typical statements flying around the Twitter-sphere were:

Students like these should not be tolerated these poor teachers are trying their best! #BlameSMT

Or

That kid (pupil) is hilarious – he’s running rings around that kid (tough young teacher)! #BlameTeachFirst

To

It’s called behaviour ‘management’ for a reason! #BlameTheNotSoToughYoungTeacher

Not that I’m adverse to having a strong opinion but I sort of agree with all three but rather than sit on all three fences I’m going to smash each fence down and then squat over the remains. (as it were)

#BlameTheNotSoToughYoungTeacher

Even if you think Britain is going to hell in an online shopping cart you have to admit that the disobedient pupil showing considerable chutzpah was not being sufficiently motivated in the classroom. The teacher had absolutely no clue how to manage the behaviour and as result the relationship between adult and pupil has now become personal. This is not good; mainly because a battle has now started.

The pupil is now very consciously going to try and not engage with anything the teacher does – his main motivation will be to see just how far and publicly he cannot engage without getting permanently excluded. The teacher is also at war with the pupil although probably at a more sub-conscious level. The teacher will be feeling that the ensuring behaviour from the pupil is not his fault and as time goes by the pupil will become a lost cause and the teacher will just wave the white ‘unteachable’ flag and the pupil will win – although the loss will be bitterly apparent to everyone.

Had the teacher approached the initial warning signs of poor behaviour professionally it would not have escalated with the pair of them needing a couple counselling session with a senior leader. A little bit of respect, recognition of capability matched with appropriate challenge and even with a little bit of humility/humour and it could have been a different story.

#BlameSMT

Why the hell should teachers have to put up with little buggers like that kid anyway…’tis the quiet children I feel sorry for: no one cares about them.’

I do actually. I care very deeply about those quiet pupils and I would happily argue that their needs were not being met either. I also expect teachers to be able to effectively manage the ‘disruptive’ pupils effectively so they can learn just as much as the quiet ones. That is why I employed you. You do know that pupils are children don’t you? You do know that some children have difficult lives and that it is our job to work though those so the child can come out on top don’t you? You know that there is a wealth of information out there about how to deal with challenging behaviour and many professionals in your own school (who may have had successes with this particular child) that you can draw knowledge and skills from don’t you? You do know that to sit back and say ‘it’s not your fault’ as if you’re a casual by-stander rather than a teacher makes you a disgrace don’t you? Good, just checking.

Of course, as a Head I will support you. I’ll help you get better at understanding the needs of these pupils and how to support them without losing sight of your responsibility to the whole class. And trust me that I will back you up when dealing with the pupil’s poor behaviour or talking to the family about the consequences of the child not taking their responsibilities for their own learning and behaviour seriously. Of course I will otherwise…what sort of a Head would that make me?

#BlameTeachFirst

This is why proper training is important. You’re not dumped straight in at the deep end without the professional maturity to deal with challenging behaviour appropriately. Of course no aspiring trainee teacher is either…but we learnt through placements and lectures how to do it. Our hands were held along the way. Our mentors weren’t out of our sight as we completely messed up telling a child off, letting  a child off, missing what that child over there was doing and their feedback only made us stronger. We became used to feedback and reflections so that in our NQT year, when the stabilisers were off and we were really on our own, we could cope when getting further advice (we didn’t need to compose a song in the toilet).

I feel waves of sympathy towards these ‘ToughYoungTeachers: I couldn’t have dealt with Caleb after six weeks; after six years I probably would still have needed help. But then I flip and feel a bit cross – where is there support? Many TeachFirst folks have answered my queries on Twitter and assure me that support is in place and it’s really good. I hope so, if only so in years to come, the leaders of Teach First can sleep at night.