Writing for The Leaders Council, an anonymous headteacher based in Birmingham shares her experiences of managing through the Covid-19 pandemic and questions whether senior school leaders are being given the support they deserve by the local authority.
I started work for Birmingham Local Authority in September 1992 – almost 30 years ago. I remember – I was fresh faced, energetic, naïve and passionate about the career I’d chosen. After all, it was all I’d ever dreamt of being since the age of nine, when my amazing primary school teachers were my heroes. I worshipped them with an awe that I didn’t try to hide. I loved school and I was reasonably bright, so did pretty well throughout.
I grew up on a council estate, the third out of four children. Mum was a part time auxiliary nurse at the Birmingham Maternity Hospital, and Dad was a materials manager at a factory in Tyseley. I was the first member of the family to go to university and graduated from Westhill College with an unremarkable 2:2 in 1992.
I have only worked in three schools over my career, all schools in socially deprived areas, where families face so many challenges every day. I progressed, moving from class teacher to English lead, to SENDCo and DSL, to deputy head at my current school. Circumstances meant that I did two stints as acting head teacher as head teachers left and moved on, for various reasons [that we are not going to be mentioning here] but that were both painful and damaging for the school community.
With staff morale at an all-time low and standards pretty much at the same level, I eventually braved the terrifying next step into headship.
There was a lot of work to do, rebuilding the reputation of the school in the local community, helping the staff to believe in their school again, growing a confident and competent leadership team and delivering a quality education for the children.
It took time, it took some tough messages to be heard and given, and it took help and advice along the way, particularly, at that time, from some marvellous people at the Birmingham Education Partnership [BEP].
In June 2019, Ofsted came and validated our hard work with a ‘Good’ judgement.
But, of course, that was just the beginning! The framework was changing and we needed to shift our focus, carry on with our improvement journey and work toward another set of goalposts.
Then came the pandemic! Little did we know what was in store for schools up and down the country, let alone in Birmingham. I certainly didn’t expect to be still dealing with the repercussions two years on… but I did start this by saying I was naïve, didn’t I!
And this is, I guess, where things started to unravel, in terms of my opinion about Birmingham City Council [BCC] – but I’ve only just had the epiphany, the defining moment, when I realised it.
So, like all head teachers, [and this is why I say I’m unremarkable, because nothing I have done over the last two years is very different to what hundreds of head teachers have been doing] I rolled up my sleeves, got creative and got on with the job.
During the very first lockdown, when we were open for vulnerable children and children of key workers, we really went after our vulnerable children, not just those that met the government criteria of EHCP, CIC and those with a social worker, but also those from all the families that according to our personal knowledge of them, were vulnerable. Those living with domestic abuse, substance misuse and mental health were top of our list. If they were in school every day, we knew they were safe, fed and that parents were more likely to cope.
It amazed me that some other schools in similar areas to ours had so few children in at this time, and that others just didn’t open at all, claiming that there was no demand for the places - we had up to 60 children in a day.
The challenges were huge. Supporting staff who were anxious, keeping them safe, shielding the clinically vulnerable, allowing those who had vulnerable family members at home to shield also; creating time for those with their own children to be at home with them; contacting every family at least once a week; having staff in school as little as possible, providing hot meals, delivering food parcels...the list goes on…and on.
I created a rota so that those staff that were able to work only had to be in the building two days a week, spending the rest of the time making telephone contact with all other children and parents that were at home, supporting with learning, offering support and signposting families for further support.
This went on for several, relentless months. Looking back now, I can see that I didn’t look after myself at this time - I didn’t have vulnerable parents to worry about, they both died several years ago, far too young and still too painful to think about. And my own two children, though still living at home at the time, are young adults, so they were able to be independent through lockdown.
So…I just worked and worked, and despite my wonderful senior leadership team telling me to take some days off on the rota, I didn’t. I’ve always been one to think I must lead by example, lead from the front, don’t ask anyone to do something you wouldn’t do yourself – be a strong leader.
And so, one beautiful Sunday afternoon, in the garden, painting some furniture, the pain struck, the breathlessness came and the panic set in. I genuinely thought that I was having a heart attack, and I was terrified. I was taken into hospital, and of course, with restrictions at their height at that time, I had to go alone. Seeing my husband at the door as I was wheeled into the ambulance was the loneliest I’ve ever felt. Because he simply is my rock, my best friend and my protector [if you happen to know him, please don’t tell him!].
Luckily, it wasn’t my heart – it was, according to the doctors, exhaustion and stress. Now, I don’t consider myself to be someone that gets stressed, I’m optimistic and pragmatic, but the doctors explained that even if you don’t feel like you’re stressed, your body has ways of telling you that you are overdoing it and stress can show itself physically. I had a few days’ rest, ordered by my deputy head not to step foot in the school building on threat of all sorts of punishment.
I learnt from it, and I’m much better at noticing signs of stress in my body now, and I try to balance work and rest more effectively, I can’t say I always get it right, but show me a head teacher that has.
So, back to the pandemic and school life. Over the last two years we have focused so hard on trying to keep everyone as safe as possible, managing risk like never before, and managing the emotional wellbeing and anxieties of staff, parents, families and children like never before.
Bubbles, food parcels, food vouchers, enhanced cleaning, staggered lunch sittings, online learning, PPE, risk management plans, individual risk assessments for shielding staff, outbreak management plans, updating plans relentlessly, maintaining safe staffing levels, twice weekly testing of staff, Teams and Zoom meetings, [‘You’re on mute!’, You’ve frozen, I’ve lost my connection!’], one way systems, taped arrows on the floor, signs on the gates, CO2 monitors: we’ve had it all and we’ve done it all without complaining, always with the primary aim to do the very best we can for the children, and the community, while keeping the staff safe.
I say I haven’t complained, that’s not entirely true, there have been some things that have frustrated me and that I haven’t understood.
Why then, didn’t the government allow school staff to be vaccinated before health visitors, speech and language therapists, psychotherapists, social workers, all of whom were not going out into schools or homes - they were working from home, yet had their vaccinations before school staff.
No member of school staff wanted to jump the queue in front of the elderly or the CEV, or NHS frontline staff, but we were on the frontline too…and many staff were very frightened in those early days, working in small spaces with 30+ other people, unable to keep two metres apart in compliance with social distancing.
My school has not closed once since the pandemic began: we opened during some holiday periods too, continuing to provide for key workers and vulnerable children. Last summer term I jumped through hoops competing bid forms that weren’t fit for purpose, meeting ridiculous criteria and deadlines for Birmingham Holiday Activity and Food [HAF]. We held a two-week summer club for 80 children. I went into school every day for those two weeks to make sure that our children were safe and well and receiving quality provision, because, quite frankly, I wasn’t initially impressed by the providers that were peddling their services.
Over the last two years, my focus has been unwavering on the children, staff and the families we serve. I have delivered food parcels and nappies to families isolating in high-rise blocks of flats, we have been into a flat to clean it to make it habitable for the family, I have bought bedding, quilts and pillows so that the children have clean beds. The staff have collected furniture, toys and clothing for several families in desperate need. We have delivered countless food parcels; we have bought Christmas presents for children.
I have been verbally abused and threatened too many times to count, by anxious, overwhelmed parents - and sometimes children.
We have been struggling to cater for the needs of several children with complex SEND needs, that have arrived at mainstream school because no agencies had picked them up, assessed their needs or made appropriate provision for them. SENAR [Special Educational Needs Assessment & Review] remains in crisis with funding not readily accessible to support these children. But…soldier on we do!
I have stayed open to all classes, despite being 13 staff down at the highest peak for us in January.
I have made sure that staff workload and wellbeing is considered with every decision I make.
And so, to the point. Only this week did I seriously question whether it is all worth it and why I do it.
The thing that made me ask the question is the sudden realisation that BCC have not once, in these two years, asked after my wellbeing, or offered any support, other than the risk management webinars every term or so.
There has been no contact made to ask us, the headteachers, how we are coping in these ‘unprecedented’ and challenging times.
I have had to navigate my way through so much decision making that is ‘at the head teacher’s discretion’, whilst trying to consider the safety of everyone that uses the school site.
On Thursday February 17, 2022, I arrived at school to find that Storm Dudley had brought down several fence panels and part of a huge fir tree onto the school playground, along the main access path.
We had no phone lines on Wednesday and Thursday. The connection was intermittent, making it very difficult to contact parents or for them to contact us. We were still experiencing staff shortages, which would mean that on Friday, myself, my deputy head and the assistant head would all be required to be covering classes, meaning no senior leaders or DSL would be available.
The tree surgeons could not come out until Monday at the earliest and we could not make contact with the homeowner whose fence was down, meaning the site was not secure.
Storm Eunice was then forecast, and amber/red warnings were issued urging people not to travel unless absolutely necessary. There were trees down on local roads around school. We literally have scores of trees on our school site, some very close to the building.
I rang and spoke to my chair of governors to discuss the situation and ask for her thoughts. My chair or governors is a very experienced headteacher and school improvement partner, so she knows a thing or two. We both agreed that we would close on Friday for health and safety reasons, for all the mitigating circumstances discussed. Staff were informed and were instructed to either upload learning to our platform and have home paper learning available for Friday to also to be available to all children and parents via email all day Friday. Parents were informed and I notified BCC school closures.
The initial response was supportive, just asking me to confirm that we were providing learning for the children.
However, a later email informed me that his ‘superiors’ had asked him to inform me that they would not support my decision to close and that it was a local decision to my school. Of course, it was - it was taken because of very specific reasons to do with my site at that moment!
Then, on Friday, I received another email from a different department asking me to justify my rationale for closing. I repeated all the reasons that had been provided on Thursday and provided my mobile number, reminding them that I was available as I was working from home, should they wish to speak to me about it.
I had no email response, no acknowledgment, no phone call back. This left me wondering whether I was going to be facing reprisals for my decision to close. I was anxious. It also left me wondering how many times these people, that were questioning my decision making, had actually attended their workplace over the last two years, or were they still ‘working from home?’
And so: is it all worth it? Why do I keep doing it?
Does anyone at Birmingham City Council care at all about their headteachers?
I started this by saying I was unremarkable - that’s because there is nothing that I am doing that many, many other heads aren’t doing. In that sense, I’m not different or remarkable.
Maybe though, in reflection, we are ALL remarkable and have just lost sight of all that we are doing.
Unfortunately, at the moment, I feel let down, and forgotten and invisible to my employers – the authority that I have worked 30 years for.
Teaching, for me is still my dream job. However, at this moment in time, it feels like whatever we do is never good enough, and never enough!
Photo by Element5 Digital on Unsplash
