Case Study: Advocates
“You know sir, some of the other boys say you’re a w****r but I tell them you’re alright, ‘cos you are. You’re alright. So that’s alright, isn’t it?”
I was escorting a boy from a lesson he had been sent out of. His relationship with his teacher had completely broken down and it was hard to say whose behaviour was worse – his or the teacher’s. This might appear an unlikely moment to remember as a breakthrough, but coming four weeks into my first headship in a rapidly deteriorating school, it was the moment I knew things were going to be OK. Amongst the group of utterly disaffected, educationally failed, socially disadvantaged boys in Year 10, the boys who demonstrated their distaste for school through loud, loutish, contagiously anti-social behaviour, I had an advocate.
The school I took on was reeling from a series of setbacks, most recently the massive instability caused by forty-three staff - over 50% of the teaching force - leaving at the end of the previous year. Teachers who had stayed were despondent. They were trying to be loyal to their school but were starting to question that loyalty. Other teachers were new to the school, recruited in a flurry of desperation. Many were on short term contracts making accountability difficult. The school desperately needed leadership, but as I was the fifth head in less than five years, commitment to me personally was slow in coming. People were looking at me not to see what kind of leader I was, but to see how long I lasted.
There were a number of pressing priorities. Behaviour was terrible and needed addressing urgently if we were to keep the rump of what had once been a strong teaching force. There had been a substantial erosion of trust between leaders and the rest of the staff. Trust between the community and the school had all but evaporated. That trust needed restoring. The operational systems in place were byzantine, with complexity being misunderstood as a proxy for innovation. Things looked bad in almost every direction.
I needed to gain people’s trust sufficiently to be able to take the school community with me through the rocky decisions we needed to take – curriculum reform, behaviour reform, a simplified school day, higher expectations. In a packed parents’ forum, I promised that things were going to be different, that I was in it for the long haul, that I was invested in the future of the school. Without looking up from her phone, one mother said “The last one said all that.” Her friend, also looking at her phone, added “And the one before.” Simply imploring people to trust me wasn’t going to be enough. I needed a way to fast forward that trust. I needed advocates.
I was lucky in that I had worked with the deputy previously, and we got on. I had an advocate there already who would reassure people that I was a decent person, that I would take care of the school. But I needed more. That meant inviting parents to come and meet me, inviting complaints so that I could get a more profound understanding of the problems, answering email after email asking what was I going to do about the shocking state of the school. It meant endless patience and endless optimism. It meant every spare moment being spent out and about – on the gate, in the canteen, in offices and classrooms, demonstrating my values.
Values are much discussed in school literature. Rather than trying to work out what the school needed, I went with what I believed in because integrity was going to be essential in maintaining my leadership. So I was open, honest and fair. I showed confidence and humility. I listened with curiosity. I shared details about myself with people. It wasn’t a charm offensive, it was a “this is me” offensive. And gradually, week by week, I won people over.
Some people were, justifiably, suspicious. They had been let down again and again. But I kept at it. No matter how tired I was, how shell-shocked by what I was seeing, I kept at it – cheerful, upbeat, optimistic. I tackled every breach of the rules I saw. I took on every child who stepped out of line. I challenged every instance of low standards that other adults were just walking past. I worked my socks off.
And by the end of that first half term, I had secured advocates amongst the staff, the students and the parents. People were willing to give me a go. I had the support I needed to get on and do my job because there were enough people who agreed with that boy in Year 10 that, at the end of the day, I was alright. I had advocates.
Andy Hunter
Case Study: Wellbeing commitment should be built into our contracts
I wish I had known about Heads Up 18 months ago, maybe even 12 months ago, it probably wouldn’t have stopped what happened, but I might not have felt so alone professionally. I may have been on twitter, with a decent support network and I thought I was doing ok, but I wasn’t.
I became a head when my predecessor retired. I hadn’t intended to be a head, but felt that I needed to be head of the school I was in, as I felt I could do so much for the staff and the community. I went through the recruitment process and got the job. Academy conversion was under way, but massively delayed, in part because we were not a forced conversion. my predecessor (with my knowledge and backing) and the governors had started the process. It took ages, so I had a foot in both camps, making decisions that were in the best interest of my school, but also aware of what was coming. As we were not a typical school in our LA we often missed out on funding and initiatives and were largely ignored by the LA. The MAT was led by a secondary, and there was limited knowledge and understanding primary.
My workload, and that of my SBM, doubled and then if felt like it tripled, it felt like we were learning new systems and processes whilst still running our ‘old systems’, that worked for us. Every decision was questioned, our concerns were minimised (we’ll get to that, just keep doing what you have in place and then we will transfer over) but then we were made to feel wrong or foolish if our way of doing things wasn’t the same as their (obviously superior) way. I was making sure my staff were supported, coached, workload managed and that they didn’t feel much changed, I was so busy looking out for them and for their wellbeing, that mine took a back seat, and then disappeared. I was making decisions on the spot, not being able to think strategically, it felt that I was losing my ability to do what was best for my children, families, staff, as it wasn’t how it was supposed to be done. I was really questioned around some of the decisions I was making to support staff who were experiencing difficulties outside of school (for example; I altered their hours slightly, or supported them in seeking mental health help) I was also running a leadership team with a long term member off long term sick, and we struggled to recruit after they left, so decided not to. This meant further leadership duties falling to me and my deputy.
I was working so hard to protect everyone that I just forgot about myself. I went to the doctor convinced that I was pre-menopausal, or that I was very low in Vitamin D (again) or that there was something else…. My doctor listened, reminded me that I did a highly stressful job, I said it wasn’t stress, so she did the blood tests. Of course they all came back fine…. We had to circle back round to stress.
I was called to a meeting. I was basically told I was not up to the job. My union was excellent, my doctor was excellent. I was signed off. I crashed. I felt so awful and embarrassed. What do I tell my family, my friends (they were all ace!) My union negotiated a great package for me. I could have stayed and fought it, and I had support to do that if I wanted to. But I couldn’t, I was burnt out and having a crisis of confidence. Maybe I was a rubbish headteacher, maybe I can’t do it. Who was I if I wasn’t working in a school? If I wasn’t a leader?
You absolutely must ensure your own wellbeing, if you are so busy holding the umbrella over your staff to protect them from the storm, but you are not under it, you will get battered and unable to hold the umbrella!
I also know now that I am more than my role. I still ‘feel’ like a headteacher, but in my own special school that supports other leaders. Not being in role doesn’t mean that you stop caring about children, staff, the system. I also know that my friends and family care about me as me, not me as a headteacher.
Stop paying lip service to wellbeing, we need money and conviction from all levels. Wellbeing commitment should be built into our contracts; sessions of coaching or supervision and someone keeping an eye on our workload
We also need to stop thinking that saying the job is tough = we are no good at it, or we are not capable. We do not need leaders as martyrs, prepared to sacrifice themselves for the good of the job. It may be a calling, it may be public service, but it is a JOB!
A colleague of mine, who is now a friend, said to me ‘you put care and compassion for children and staff at the centre of everything you do’ I want to be working in a system that truly allows leaders to do that.
I know what I am good at, I know what really matters. I am now supporting other leaders (not just heads). I may well go back into headship, but right now I am helping those that are doing the job (and other key roles in school) to maintain their wellbeing, to support their leadership development and to make sure that no one else ends up how I did.
A New Normal: Looking to 2030
Ten years ago there was a lot of excitement about a ‘2020 Vision’ and what the education system might look like. In the end this excitement was misplaced and not just because of the pandemic. The possibilities which seemed tangible about the future of schooling had not been fulfilled. The pupil premium gap was as stubborn as ever, off-rolling remained a very live issue and the levels of violence which affected young people were disturbingly high. The recruitment and retention of teachers were both significant challenges as had been the case for some time and arguably finished the decade in a worse position than at the beginning. I am sure there will be many with more positive narratives to tell. It is true that the new Ofsted philosophy and the Early Career Framework, amongst other initiatives, were in their infancy at the time of the first lockdown in March 2020 but it was too soon to judge any impact.
While it is tempting at the time of writing (January 2020) to want to return to ‘normal’ we should aim for far better than the normality which existed pre-lockdown in March 2020. Some of this normality from an educational perspective was revealed during the first six months of the pandemic in a very public way. The grading process for GCSE and A level examinations in 2020 was a farce, and betrayed all too obviously the lack of trust from the government towards the profession. This was also on show as Ofsted took far too long to abandon its preferred modus operandi on more than one occasion. It felt that unless high-stakes cliff-edge accountability was in place from the angles of both assessment and inspection then central government was very nervous about the quality of what schools would be offering. The Secretary of State’s emphasis on parents contacting Ofsted if they were unhappy with a school’s remote education offer acted as further evidence.
By 2031 the relationship between government and the profession must be in a better place, not least because it is a poor advertisement for those who may join and those in two minds as to whether they should stay. As a profession we must aim to attract as many as possible with the potential to become fantastic teachers, and for a much higher proportion of those in their formative years to remain in the classroom. In order to do this the profession will need to work more effectively as a collective whole with collaboration, not competition, between trusts and schools as the distinguishing feature. Relationships within the profession need to mature in the same as they do between the profession and government. In 2020 there was far too much concern within secondary schools and MATs as to how their Centre Assessed Grades would hold up against the competition, as part of a sense that what really mattered was the achievement of the school and not those of the students. The process of recruiting and retaining the best teachers will partly depend on the moral core of the profession and what they see in the behaviour of their leaders.
The working conditions available in other professions will also be a factor. The issues around the lack of flexibility for teachers have only been amplified during the pandemic. Working from home with flexible hours is not going to be on offer for teachers, or at least not in the same way in other jobs, and those who have enjoyed it during the pandemic may not appreciate losing it. The gap between the day to day conditions of teaching and those in other industries will only grow. The truth is that teachers have always worked from home but it has been to carry out tasks which could always be delivered off-site, such as marking and planning in evenings and at weekends. Teaching from home may be possible for some, but not as standard practice.
Conversely there are people who do not enjoy working from home. This includes those who do not have the space to do so. A family in a three bedroom house is in a far different position to several adults in a two bed flat unable to have a private conversation or work with an unreliable connection. Many enjoy the social side of work, and do not want it to be confined to a two dimensional screen. Does anyone really enjoy a ‘zoom lunchtime’? The benefits of having a workplace to attend and a stronger sense of camaraderie may be a greater benefit than is currently realised.
The relative stability of the profession compared to others may offer advantages. Schools will be less affected by Brexit than other workplaces, and the same applies to the automation of work or outsourcing to abroad. A salary with a pension may also look attractive in the likely difficult economic conditions ahead. These are all positives, and are worth making explicit, but they are unlikely to be enough to resolve the issue in the long-term.
Professional development opportunities need to be in the right place. Every school should be in a position where their programme has the requisite quality and quantity. Online learning for teachers can deliver the new National Professional Qualification programmes, master’s degrees, subject specialist workshops and access to the best researchers and speakers. Previously attendance in person was the only viable option for the vast majority. Anyone can attend any school’s INSET day if both parties are so inclined, or sign up to any university’s postgraduate programmes. High quality candidates will still be able to have their pick of schools, and the professional development opportunities may be the point of differentiation.
The process of schooling must also move forward, and the professionals with them. One legacy of the pandemic is that those whose eyes always glassed over whenever they listened to a message around the speed of change in the workplace in this day and age, or how many different careers or jobs a student might have in the 21st century, are now paying attention. Every adult and child has learned new skills and competencies over the last year as they adjusted to lockdown life, and that process still has some way to run. If schools can demonstrate such agility in such a short space of time, then there is no doubt that education in 2031 can be very different if we choose it to be the case and if the government allows it. In a rare display of unity, education trade unions showed their collective strength in early January 2020 about the safety of returning to school and the government was forced to change its position. If this acts as a catalyst to increase the levels of dialogue and influence in the long term it will be positive for the profession.
Today’s year 1 students will take their GCSE examinations in 2031 and they will not expect an education which is stuck in the past. They are the most advanced group of six year olds in terms of their IT skills which has ever existed. They will not expect to abandon how they have learned during the pandemic going forward, or for their opportunities to be narrowed in the future. If their school’s key stage 4 or 5 option blocks do not allow them to take their subjects of choice they will seek a solution to be found if they are to stay. When there are topics they do not understand in class, they should be able to access a high standard of online resources and possibly a qualified adult to take them through it. In the case of the latter they will not care where the person teaching them on the screen is located, which may provide opportunities to some. Above all they are unlikely to accept that their future should be determined by fifty hours of hand-written examinations at 16 and 18 which do not test the breadth of the subject. The relevance of the system will be in play.
This includes the day to day experience of schooling. The model of all students and teachers on site for six to seven hours a day from Monday to Friday is much more subject to question given the quality remote education has reached already. In my view, it will remain a sufficiently inferior experience to be a genuine challenge to the standard model but it will shape it nonetheless. What will happen when a year 13 student asks to learn from home one or two days per week, in the way that has become common in the workplace?
The young people of 2031 will need a renewed profession as do those who work within it. It is very possible that the economic circumstances over the next five or even ten years mean that the proportion of students who qualify for free school meals will increase, and the prospects for families to extricate themselves from these circumstances diminish. The students whose future is most at risk require qualified, motivated teachers who are happy to be in a physical workplace, reject the flexibility of other professions, want to stay in the profession and develop their skills over time. For that to happen schools must work together more effectively as a group and central government must be explicit in its trust and confidence of the profession.
Case Study: After 27 years, I was knocked, battered & bruised.
“The light shines in the darkness and the darkness cannot overcome it”
Events in our professional lives may trip us up, or even stop us in our tracks – but we are stronger than we think. When this happened to me after twenty-seven years of an eventful and positive career in education, I was knocked, battered and bruised. I was not sure whether I would remain in the profession.
Having led the school through its first Ofsted inspection I was feeling extremely positive. It had been a hard few years, but I had been working towards showing the world just how amazing the school community that we had created was! We had done well, bearing in mind that less than four years ago the school and everything connected to it, did not exist!
Twelve weeks from the publication of the Ofsted report, unbelievably, I was under investigation for gross misconduct that potentially could have led to my dismissal. The speed at which it all happened was bewildering. How? Why? Where was the support?
I felt alone, misunderstood and marginalised by colleagues that I had thought I was valued by/of, and utter confusion reigned. The investigation took place – way too slowly. Union support was poor. Line management support was non-existent. The result was punitive – effectively I could not leave to get another job and there were some internal competency targets needed to be met. Interestingly, the investigation did reveal that the organisation was culpable in some of the allegations, which made me question the validity of the investigation.
As part of a multi-academy trust, isn’t this WHY trusts exist? To support, help and promote good practice? A year after the investigation, I resigned from my post with no job to go to. I tried to secure a post but struggled because of the impact of the investigation. I was knocked, battered, bruised, bitter and traumatised. I still am – but everyday less so.
I have learned that:
- Values are everything and sticking to them navigated me through the mess of emotions
- Integrity carried me through and I am glad that I behaved the way I did throughout the process
- Looking after people is the best employer attribute that anyone will remember when they leave
- If an organisation cannot see your worth, don’t hang around or ‘beg’ them to see what they cannot see
There’s a few things I think the system could learn from my experience:
- Look after ALL staff. No lip service – REALLY do it.
- Think carefully about how leaders are treated – otherwise they will walk away – either bitter or broken
- School leaders need some external coaching support as a mandatory part of the role and it should be put in place as soon as someone gains a school leadership post
Working with others and being of value is still my overriding desire – but I now do it on my terms! I support others who lead school communities to enable the best for the children and young people that they serve. I have re-trained and now offer my newly found skills to others. I have a great work-life balance and less money – but I have peace. Priceless.