Fifty

Today, I am 50 years old. Just a number I know, but traditionally one is supposed to do some self-reflection. So here goes.   

A couple of weeks ago, I went out for pre-50th birthday drinks with a lovely set of friends that I had worked with happily at my previous school. It was a glorious evening full of laughter, animated chatting, embarrassing dancing and some rather good natural wine.

It is astonishing to me that most of these lovely friends had been labelled as the old regime by the current head teacher - including my much esteemed ex-head teacher, supposed purveyor of the 'Dark Ages'. You could not really wish for a more nurturing, creative and rigorous team of fine pedagogues.

I have now come to the end of my second year at my current school. I have become a part of its community: close to my pupils, their families and the staff. I am a union rep and yet am on fantastic terms with my current head. I am blessed to count her as a friend. I have even been promoted!

I am in a good place. I still have darker moments, but they pass relatively quickly. Finally, my breakdown and the one who precipitated it are no longer my main concerns. It has been a long but rewarding journey. I appreciate how lucky I am. I appreciate the help I’ve had along the way. 

I also appreciate that the ‘dark ages’ for me were very much spent under the aegis of the would-be innovative, but pedagogically challenged, sociopath who is still head at my previous school. This feeling I’m sure is shared by most of the other people who left (around the fifty mark I reckon by now). Also by pupils and parents: past and present (a number of pupils have transferred to my current school…)

It will sound cheesy, but I am now in the light. I am standing proud. I support others and others support me. I am a trusted and respected member of the community. A little rough round the edges and eccentric maybe, but that is me. And people like me. For who I am. And damn, it feels good. 

Apologies for stream of consciousness and happy birthday to me!

Thankful - part 2

A few more reasons to be thankful - and very happy:

God, I love this job.

Thankful

This is why I teach 👆.

I have been through traumatic events, but I have found a school where I am happy and can continue to teach children and bring happiness to them, families and staff. 

Life ain’t all bad. 

I’m lucky: I’ve survived, landed on my feet, and found joy.

Of questionable letters of commendation…

I have recently become aware of a letter of commendation from the council’s own schools' HR Business Manager - on the website of the ‘independent’ consultant who was due to lead the whistleblowing investigation.

It was put up there shortly after our whistleblowing case was deemed not in ‘the public interest’ by said consultant.

I would not be so bold as to say that the council paid a consultant to smooth things over for them, thereby -to all intents and purposes- gaslighting a group of wronged ex-employees and governors of a school, to whom the council owed duty of care. But it sure as hell is on the suspicious side. No?

_______________

Dear Colleague,

I have used the services of [dispute resolution consultancy] on several occasions when I've needed independent help with the resolution of disputes and conciliation casework.

[The consultants] have extensive and sound knowledge of employment law and have particular specialist knowledge in the education sector.

[The named consultant]’s approach and presentation is clear and honest and she has a way of identifying the real issues that may have been missed or overlooked in the process.

However, my fundamental reason for returning to [the consultant]'s company is her absolute integrity in whatever she does. Her focus is always to achieve the conclusion that is fair and right and I have complete trust and confidence in her work.

Yours sincerely, 

[Name]

Schools' HR [council] - Business Manager

Head in the sand

The other week, I posted a piece called 'Excuses'. Ironic tone but very much genuine.

One of the points was: “She’s got the establishment behind her, and you can’t take on the establishment - right?” Sadly, we live in a system where the establishment is extremely difficult to take on. 

Should we try if we are in the right? Hell yes.

Is success possible? That is a different matter. 

However, we owe it to ourselves and to our colleagues to call out injustice. If we don’t, then we might as well just cave, and accept bullying, persecution, injustice in all its forms. 

If we are not united, then what is the point?

Join a union. Support your union. Stand up for victimised members. Collectively stick your heads over the parapet.

My union stood up for me locally, my co-reps stood up for me at school. A lot of people who I trusted at school were quietly supportive. 

Others, who should have been, were not. Some of these included friends. To use the words of Desmond Tutu, “If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.”

Since I left the school, as I’ve written about at length in previous posts, I have been exploring a number of different avenues to alert ‘the establishment’ about the consistent victimisation, bullying and union-bashing that took place (is taking place?) at my previous school. 

So far, there has been no closure. I will have made waves but nothing official. 

There has been collusion between the head, the council (especially HR), the head of the board of governors and by proxy the governing body.

I have reached out to the DfE, the ICO, an education ombudsman organisation. I have had some advice, but ultimately nothing that could bring forth punitive measures, or even an apology from the guilty parties. 

Sometimes, it is depressing. This whole process has been dragging on for nearly 2 years now. Family and friends have told me that I will need to stop, that I cannot go on forever, that I have to think of my family and my well-being.

I completely appreciate this advice and soon I will stop, but I will keep going on for a while chasing that closure.

Did I hear someone say stubborn bastard?

A rejoinder: to people who say “a lot of water has gone under the bridge” when it comes to traumatic experiences, I say this may be true, but the bridge remains.