I have one recurring nightmare. I’m normally shouting or screaming at a child who is coolly ignoring me, rendering me completely ineffective. I started having these dreams when I became a deputy, and they’ve continued into my headship.
I’m no dream expert, but it doesn’t take Sigmund Freud to work out their deeper meaning – as the level of my accountability has increased, so has my unconscious fear grown about failing to inspire anyone to follow me. In my dreams I’m haunted by disobedient and passive pupils; in reality, I’m constantly trying to keep the adults in my school united and on the straight and narrow.
When I started teaching I quickly got into a groove of being disappointed that the children weren’t ‘performing’ and then getting cross. I remember my first head, after a lesson observation, challenging me to not raise my voice for the rest of the term. I gave it a go and was genuinely surprised at how much more pleasant teaching was. It gradually dawned on me that if the children weren’t ‘performing’, it was most likely down to my own poor performance as a teacher. And then I became a leader.
I hear tales of ‘old’ deputies or heads who had tempers. Colleagues have regaled me with stories of red-faced fury being unleashed on staff by ex-senior leaders. That managerial style was never part of my own personal succession plan, and I listen to such stories with wonder and astonishment, for I still try to adhere to my first head’s challenge.
Well, apart from this one time…
THE INADEQUACY OF ‘LOSING IT’
As a deputy, I’d called a meeting. While we waited for the final member of staff to arrive, I suggested we start without him. Someone then nervously informed me that this person wasn’t coming because he felt the meeting had been called at too short notice. I carried on, finished the meeting in about 20 minutes and everyone went home on time.
The next day I asked to speak to the non-attender during assembly. I was very calm, and said that I was disappointed he had chosen not to attend a meeting the deputy had called, and hadn’t informed me that he wasn’t going to bother turning up. I can’t remember exactly what he said, but he remained adamant that 48 hours was too short notice, and told me that he’d be complaining to the chair of governors that middle leaders were having too much pressure put on them.
At this point, words like ‘professional courtesy’, ‘respect’ and ‘basic set of good bloody manners’ may have come out of my mouth. I was now standing and also shouting. I may even have thrown a whiteboard pen at my desk in frustration. He, it must be said, remained beautifully calm and asked me to stop shouting in a way that made me want to make his head explode. I remember thinking then, I think I’ve lost this one…
I’ve no idea how it ended; I think he just left. I know I felt like a complete fool. I licked my wounds and considered the way forward. That was almost 10 years ago, and to this day I remember the feeling of inadequacy brought on by ‘losing it’. I fail to see how it’s apparently worked for so many other leaders before me.
I’ve been cross. I’ve sworn at, shouted about and berated incompetence at all levels, but I’ve never directed it towards an individual. For me, dealing with mistakes, incompetence, rudeness, bad decisions and other people’s stress are dishes best served cold – and a cool Head is better for everyone.
The Primary Head is the moniker of a headteacher currently working in a UK primary school. Follow him at @theprimaryhead
