leadership, Observations

Acting Up!

Image from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Statler_and_Waldorf

From very early on in my career, I’ve always been asked if I’d like to be a headteacher. The answer has always been a resounding “No.” In the classroom – that’s where I belong.

18 months ago, I became a Deputy Head at the school I’ve worked in since I was an NQT. Again, the headteacher questions. Again, the resounding “No.” No way. Not ever. Not part of my career plan. I’m not sure I ever really had one, but if I did, then headship didn’t feature.

And yet here I am, 18 months on, just back in the classroom after a 4 month stint as Acting Co-Headteacher. And did I enjoy it? A resounding… “Yes!”

When the opportunity arose for myself and my wonderful Deputy Head partner to take up the post in our school, I was excited. I never thought I would be, but it didn’t take long for me to think it through. It was a chance to find out what headship is like, in a school I know inside out, with colleagues I enjoy working with, and with children and families I have known for years. And most of all, a chance to do it all with a partner who I knew would be amazing at the job… far better than she would (or does) ever give herself credit for.

So we did it. We gave it a go. And, in more ways than either of us could have imagined, it exceeded expectations. More exhausting, more challenging, more demanding, more varied but more rewarding than  I ever thought it could be. Before I started, I didn’t really know what a headteacher did all day. I’m not being disrespectful to anyone I’ve worked with, but I just didn’t know. I’ve done the job for 4 months. And I still don’t know. The time just flies by in a flurry of children and parents, staff knocking on the door, phones ringing, emails pinging, things needing signing… some days it seemed we had not stopped all day and yet achieved very little. But somehow, we managed to get the big jobs done: we wrote a SEF and an SDP, we went on learning walks, spoke with children, looked at children’s work, planned and delivered staff meetings, renovated the library, visited other schools, wrote governors’ reports … when I think back now at what we achieved in a short space of time, I’m honestly amazed. Not least because, with 18 days left of our headship, we got THE phonecall. Yes, to round off our time, we had the headship Ofsted experience. Not the most enjoyable of experiences, but an invaluable and rewarding one. It was on those two days (Yes, we were one of the lucky schools who had the full on 2 day inspection!) when I realised just how lucky I have been to be part of an amazing school community. No headteacher could do it alone: you need to be a part of a team in order to succeed.

We were very fortunate to receive a huge amount of support.    All the staff and governors at school were amazing – not least our incredibly knowledgeable Inclusion Lead, Secretary and School Business Manager, without whose support, life would have been much, much harder.  Local heads let us know that they were there for us, and that no question would be too stupid.  The LA run a “New and Acting Headteachers” course once a term for a year, which was a great opportunity for us to learn about HR, finance, governance etc.  Also, we have the most incredible Education Advisor who could not do enough to help us.  He kept us on our toes, but also kept us well informed, putting us in touch with other advisors who could help when he couldn’t.  There is no doubt that his support played a huge part in preparing us for our inspection.  And of course, there was Google.  No school can run without it.  Who else knows quite as much about the health risks associated with pigeon faeces?  I certainly didn’t.  Although I’m quite knowledgeable now.

We are clearly very fortunate to have received so much support from so many people.  But of course, it wasn’t a completely positive experience: there were days which were incredibly hard, when we had to call on the support of professionals who we would rather not have had to contact.  It was on these days when I was so glad to have my headteacher partner with me: we could chivvy each other along when the days got long, pick each other up when we were down, even finish each other’s sentences in the end.  Working together with her was undoubtedly the absolute highlight of the experience. I’m sure headship shouldn’t have been so much fun: not a day went by (even the bad ones) without the office being filled with the sound of uncontrollable laughter. And, having shared an office for four months, know her SO much better than I did before!

So now that I’ve had a taste of the job, ask me the question again: would I ever be a headteacher? The answer now is “Yes.”

Of course, it would never be quite like the autumn of 2017. The next time, I’d have to go it alone: I wouldn’t have my other half of the Acting Co-Headteacher double act at my side to spin on a chair with when things got tough, and I wouldn’t be in a school where everything was familiar.  The learning curve next time would’t be quite as steep as the first two weeks as September. For two days, we sat in a daze wondering what to do.  And then we got on with learning.  I would wait until my family were older: there were times when I got home when my 4 and 8 year old children were about to go to bed.  I know my husband (who is also a teacher) would never, ever have complained, but my job impacted on him, having to leave work earlier to pick up the children and our nicely established home routine had to go out of the window.  His support was amazing.  He would never want to stop me applying for a headship, but until the time is right for my whole family, then Deputy Headship will be enough. There are exciting times ahead at my school, and I am sure that, with our new headteacher now in post, the school will continue to grow and succeed.  There is much to look forward to and so much learning to be done before taking on a headship of my own.


By the way, should you want to read it, our Ofsted report is here. We’re very proud of it!

leadership, NPQSL, Observations

#NPQSL focussing my attention

Today, I’m spending my day reading about “Improving the Quality of Teaching” across a school a part of my NPQSL course. It doesn’t sound like the most fun way to spend a day, but, an hour and 20 minutes in, and I’m actually hooked.  As part of my reflections, I was asked to consider these questions:

Taken from LSSW’s Improving Quality of Teaching module


I’m not going to share my responses here, but rather my sudden awareness of how visible we are in school. I’m a Middle Leader, not part of the Senior Leadership Team, so I’m certainly less visible than others,  but my role means that I now have a more visible presence than I have done previously.  Question 4 was really interesting:  “In terms of others’ perceptions of you as a leader, what kinds of things form the main focus for your attention?”  In my head, I know what I focus on, but is this what others see?  My head is always a jumble of new ideas and developments that I want to try out in my classroom.  Inevitably, if these ideas are a success, I want to share them, but does this meant that I flit from one thing to another, trying this and that and talking about another “next big thing” in a staff meeting?  Is it infectious enthusiasm, or just downright annoying?  Much of what I have read today talks of leaders having to “walk the walk”, of practising what they preach, under the scrutiny of others who are watching to make sure that words and actions are in agreement.  By jumping from one thing to another, can I do this? Can I make sure that I am staying on top of everything before introducing something new? Perhaps I need to slow down on the pet projects and focus on one thing at a time.

In so many ways, the internet, social media platforms and courses such as NPQSL are an absolute asset to education. In times where professional development and courses are barely available, we have to find our own ways of progressing our careers and developing our skills.  But a non-stop source of support , advice and ideas can be such a bad thing too – there is a world of creativity and inventiveness available to us at all times: my Facebook and Twitter feeds are constantly me showing me another  “next big thing” to take into my classroom.  As an aspiring Senior Leader, I will have to rein in my enthusiasm a little – focus on one thing at time, embed one idea before moving on to the next one.  Perhaps then, if asked what others’ perceptions of my focus are, I might have some idea what the answer would be.

NPQSL, Observations

#NPQSL Passion

Image labelled for reuse under a CC search.


Capture your passion for teaching in 3 to 4 sentences. A very tough challenge, but here goes:


Even in the darkest times in a classroom, there are always tiny glimmers of light. Breakthrough moments, when every single child is focussed, engaged and loving school, fill you with pride and renewed enthusiasm.  Looking at the children, and knowing there is always something you can do, no matter how small, to make a difference in their lives. Remembering that is key: you can’t always solve their problems or take away what goes on in their lives outside of school, but for the 6 hours they spend in school, we can do something they will always remember.

What would your 4 sentences be?

NPQSL, Observations, Workload

We all stand together.

I have been meaning to write this post for some time now, but – teachers, you may find this hard to believe – I just haven’t had ten minutes spare to sit down and do it. So, here it is.

Life in schools at the moment is pretty crap. In the 16 years I have been teaching, morale has never been so low.  I don’t mean in my school in particular, I mean nationally.  I have friends who are teachers, I have many Twitter associates who are teachers, and no one is happy.  I could use my time to write a long, ranting post about how crap teaching is, but I’m not going to.  There are three reasons for this:

1). I am armed with my opinions, not all the facts, and so I would never write a post full of half-correct ideas;

2). Ranting isn’t my style, and

3). Why would I waste my rare few spare minutes of peace and quiet getting myself all riled up and angry, putting me in a bad mood for the rest of the day?

I thank those amazing educators and bloggers out there who do have all the facts: they are the people you should turn to if you want to find out why we are all miserable.

Instead, I want to spend my time trying to be positive, because that is what I do.

Yesterday, I spent a few minutes completing a survey set up by Emma Kell, looking at teacher wellbeing. One of her questions asked why I had gone into teaching.  So far, she has surveyed almost 1000 teachers.  I’d like to bet that not many of them chose “because it suits my lifestyle” or “for the holidays”.  I’d like to think that the majority chose “to make a difference in society” or “I like spending time with young people” as their answer.  In these trying, frustrating, exhausting, infuriating times, that is what we have to remember.  We are in this job for the young people we teach.  Yes, the government may be failing them, yes, our education system is in complete turmoil at the moment, but we have to remember those children we are there to teach.  As part of my NPQSL course, I have been reading a lot about creating a positive culture.  Positivity is infectious, and it is necessary to help children to succeed.  Equally, negativity is infectious too.  The children pick up on it.  The negativity that so many teachers are feeling at the moment is completely understandable, but we can’t allow it to permeate our teaching and our classrooms.  We need to make the best of what is a dire situation, in order to help our children to succeed – whether that be academically, socially or just to help them to be good people.  Yes, we have to teach boring lessons about modal verbs and identifying the past progressive and using fronted adverbials, but we can at least try to make school fun by teaching with a smile, even if inside we are crying about the subject material. The children we are teaching will be shaped by the education they receive – on paper, that may not be the education we want to give them, so we have to do all that we can to ensure they enjoy their time in school – we need to still make sure we give them the educational visits and the fun days and the amazing experiences that they remember for far longer than their standardised score and the random letters that are assigned to show their English and Maths ability.

We need to give each other a break. We are all in this up to our necks together.  No-one really knows where they stand in school at the moment – it seems every day, another new and crazy, work-creating change is being introduced.  Yes, we’re fed up with it.  Yes, we are constantly on the back foot as we never know what’s going to happen next.  And yes, we need to have a point of blame for all of this; someone to direct our anger and frustrations at.  But we need to stop and think about whom we are directing this anger at.  I know a fair few Headteachers, and I know that none of them woke up one morning and thought: “ I know. What I’ll do is: I’ll get rid of the curriculum that everyone is familiar with.  I’ll scrap the assessments they all know.  I’ll invent some crazy assessment system that no-one really gets, and I’ll make it up as I go along, but I won’t tell anyone what I’m doing.  I’ll take away all the fun lessons and fill the timetables with loads more writing and maths.  I’ll give them some stupid grammar stuff to memorise, and, while I’m at it, I’ll change the names of stuff like calling “Data Handling” “Statistics”, we’ll change “SPaG” to “GPS” and change subject names like “ICT” to “Computing”.  That’ll be a laugh.”  I’m pretty sure that’s not what happened.  The Headteachers don’t like what’s going on any more than we do, yet they’re the ones who have had to enforce the changes, knowing it would make their staff unhappy.  They are feeling the pressure too – even more than we are, as the buck stops with them.

These are trying times, and not everyone will come out of the other side still working in education. That is guaranteed.  But, while we are there, we have to do the only things we can do: stay positive, through all of the $*”! that gets thrown at us, talk to each other, be open and honest if it all gets too much, and support each other.  I have a suspicious feeling things may get considerably worse before they get better, so we need to help each other get to get through this.

Some frogs from my youth put it beautifully, so I’ll leave the final word with them…

“We all stand together…” – Turn the volume up and sing along – how can you not feel just a tiny bit happier after that?

The Frog Chorus by Paul McCartney
Assessment, Observations, Workload

Do less, but better


Just over a year ago, I took a bold step into the world of twitter and blogging.  Whilst most of my forays have just been the random musings that the strap line of my blog promises, one or two have shown me the power that social media can have.
Almost a year ago to the day, I posted a pleading blog as an assessment leader in crisis, floundering in the newly “created” world of assessment without levels.  From that blog, I received words of wisdom from many good people.  Crucially though,  Michael Tidd put me in touch with some wonderful people at the White Horse Federation in Swindon, who helped me on my way with my assessment journey. 
Fast forward a short while, and a trial system was in place, and then rolled out across the whole school in September.  There have been times when I have felt quite smug about the fact that, as a school, we more or less know what we are doing.  However,  for the most part, I have still had one or two niggling doubts about what we do, especially when we have made changes mid-year or even mid-term.
No secret was ever made of the fact that this system was developing as we went along – staff, children, parents and governors have all been kept informed of what we are doing.  However, I have always known that the system wasn’t completely perfect for us.  Not least because it was designed by the White Horse Federation to suit their needs, and we were/are using it alongside a few minimal functions of Target Tracker (purely for the purposes of looking at groups of children, as it links to SIMS).  I am eternally grateful for the support the WHF have given, and continue to give, and I know that they too have made changes to the system as time has gone on.
Yesterday, I was fortunate enough to attend the Assessment Without Levels conference at Cheltenham Racecourse, where some wonderful speakers provided me with a huge amount of food for thought.   Not least Jamie Pembroke and Michael Tidd (who, I am not ashamed to admit, I was very excited to finally get to meet at last!), whose key message was: do less, but better.  Jamie has always been a firm (and vocal!) believer in not using assessment systems if they don’t work for you.  He is, of course, completely right, but the only way to find something that completely fits your assessment system is to build it yourself. I don’t want to spend more money and time learning about a different system that still doesn’t quite fit our needs.  But sadly, my web/app designing skills don’t quite meet the desired level (I was excited a couple of years ago when I managed to get an Excel spreadsheet to change colour depending on the numbers put in!). If I’m honest,  our needs for a tracking system are going to change anyway.  I’m not completely sure how yet; when listening to Michael and Mary Myatt yesterday, I knew exactly what we were going to do and how.   24 hours on, and that clarity has faded a little, but I still have ideas.
As a school, we assess too much.  I knew that from the outset, but I thought it better to do too much and cut back, rather than not enough and add to people’s workload later on.  I know we aren’t in the business of popularity contests,  but taking away work rather than adding more is always going to score brownie points! Staff have got to grips with the way we are planning and assessing, and they are doing it well.  The children know what they can do and where they need to go next.  The parents  (hopefully) know where to look to find out how their child is getting on and what they can do to help.  I’m not going to change any of that, just streamline the record keeping somehow.  
I’m not back to square one, nowhere near it, because this year, I have a very sound starting point, thanks to the WHF.  And, a year on, I have the confidence in my ability to develop this, something that I lacked massively last year.  I also have the confidence to talk to Ofsted about what we do: my favourite phrase of yesterday was “I’m sorry, we don’t do that here.  What would you like to know?”  I can’t wait to try that one out when our inevitable HMI visitor comes knocking on the door.
So, for the time being, we carry on doing the bloody good job that were are doing  already . But conversations will be had, plans will be made, and hopefully,  in the not too distant future, we will be doing less,  and even better.

Family, Observations

Recharging our batteries


Teacher wellbeing has been a huge focus over the past 12 months, with the creation of movements such as #teacher5adayThe Guardian Teacher Network even published a report which stated that teachers needed to relax over the Christmas holidays to avoid burnout.

I have written before about the difficulty  I have in forgetting about work over the Christmas holidays, but for once, I have listened to the advice of others.  I have completely switched off over the last week and a half, having done absolutely nothing work related,  and haven’t even felt guilty about it.

When I tell people I’m a teacher, invariably one of the first things they say relates to the amount of holidays we get.  We are indeed lucky to have 13 weeks holiday each year.  But my goodness, they are needed,  each and every one of them.  This
year has been a challenge so far, I am unashamed to admit.  There are many difficulties in my class, none of which I can share here, but each of them makes life a little less easy for us as a class.  Each of them wears me down a little more and takes a little more of my energy.  At the end of a very long term, I am not ashamed to admit that I was on my knees.  MNQTH was equally as exhausted, so my poor (also tired) children had to put up with parents who were drained and grumpy.   As a family, we had been ill for weeks, as we didn’t have the energy or strength to fight off the coughs and colds.  Physically,  mentally and emotionally, I couldn’t have carried on much longer in class without a break. I will even admit to having shed a few tears when I got home at the end of my last teaching day, purely from relief because I knew that the  holidays were almost upon us.

The life of a teacher is, without doubt, an exhausting one.  I don’t know how it compares to other “normal” 9 to 5 jobs – I’ve never had one – but I do know that a teachers couldn’t do their job without the regular breaks.  And not just “doing school work at home” kind of breaks, but completely switching off and doing no work.  Of course, it wouldn’t be possible to spend the whole holiday doing nothing for work: I’d spend the rest of the term playing catch up, but a few days off does no harm whatsoever.  For me, I’m going to have another couple of guilt-free days off to make sue my batteries are full charged ready to face all that the coming term will undoubtedly throw at me.    


Opening eyes


  When I started writing this blog almost a year ago, I didn’t really think through why I was writing it.  I think in reality,  it was just a bit of a project – something new to try.  As time has gone on, I’ve used it as an opportunity to share what life in a classroom is really like: the challenges, the successes and the rewards.

I haven’t posted much this academic year.  It’s not because I have nothing to say: quite the opposite.  I have much that I could write about. I am facing many, many challenges this year which I would love to be able to share, to seek advice, to give support to others,  and mostly to get things off my chest.  However, I can’t,  as too many confidences could be broken and identities guessed by those who know me.  I miss being able to write – as time goes on, I am sure there will be many positive experiences and successes that I can share. However, without betraying any confidentiality, I talk to my family about what I experience in my classroom and in the school.

Today,  my dad gave me a card, signed from “a proud dad”.  He told me that he was proud of all I have achieved in the past year, with my blog, my personal experiences and how I deal with all I am faced with at work.  His words really affected me. He said “I didn’t realise what teaching is all about.”  Nor do many, many people.  Sadly, it’s not just about standing in front of a class and teaching them.  That’s what it should be about.  But nowadays,  it’s about pastoral support,  social care, providing children with stability, sometimes providing them with the basics like food and clothes, providing them with a friendly face and someone who cares.  Giving them someone they can talk to, tell their troubles to, let out their anger with.  Getting to the bottom of why they are angry or scared or unkind, rather than just punishing them for lashing out.  Getting the balance right between supporting the needy and working with those who just get on with it.  Making sure that no one is overlooked or left behind.  And then worrying about getting the children to where they should be, identifying gaps, planning interventions, monitoring progress and then doing it all over again. 

If I’m honest, when I went into teaching 16 years ago, I didn’t really know what it was about either.  It was a different job back then.  Perhaps my rose-tinted  glasses have got rosier with hindsight,  but back then, it was just about teaching.  Yes, there were children with different needs to the rest, children with behavioural difficulties and educational needs.  But for the most part, children just got on with it.  As the years have gone by, I have had to learn new skills, develop new strategies and, if I’m honest, become tougher to help children to deal with their own challenges.  As a 21 year old NQT, there is no way I would have had the resilience to deal with this year’s challenges.  I would have fallen apart within weeks.  As an experienced and well respected teacher, I finish every day exhausted, worn down and emotionally drained.  But I face each day with new energy and resolve, and a vow to  support these children to the very best of my ability.  Do any of us really know what teaching is about? I don’t think we do.  But I do know it’s no longer just about teaching.