I read a rather concerning post on LinkedIn on Thursday of this week, half term for most who teach or learn in schools, which suggested that Headteachers were taking longer to wind down from the long first chunk of the academic year, and were subsequently more stressed when they were contemplating the return to their respective schools today. This is, of course, an unsustainable burden for school leaders.
Such observations are anecdotal, but given the week I’ve had, I was certainly able to empathise.
My family and I usually try to get away for a break during this week in the year. We did so in 2023 to Greece and it was utterly essential in recharging my batteries then.
The need for rest seemed even more pressing this year. I’ve been working full time at the College – and full on – since the day before A Level results day. That’s almost ten and a half weeks in a pressurised environment. Added external factors have elevated this further.
A week in the sun, or so I thought, seemed like the best tonic to release this pressure.
The break started well enough. Flights, transfers and our hotel in Gandia in Eastern Spain were all very agreeable. Seeing that rain was forecast on Tuesday following a glorious day of sunshine the day before, we decided that a trip to Valencia would be the best way to spend the day.
A delayed inward train journey was the beginning of our issues. It was raining, yes, but not too hard (I’m used to far worse having grown up in Scotland), and nothing seemed to be pointing towards the quite extraordinary events which were about to take hold of the city.
As the wind and rain grew in the storm, which seemed to escalate most worryingly during our visit to the aquarium and the dolphin show outside, still there did not seem to be a sense of panic which pervaded the area. Rather, everyone simply seemed to be getting on with their daily life, whether visiting as a tourist or going about their business as locals.
It was when we tried to get the return train down the coast where events took a turn. Our transportation made it one stop south, and then was forced to turn back. We were told, though not in any official capacity, that we would have to return to Valencia for the evening, and that there would be no way out. Quickly, we rushed to find a reasonably priced hostel for the night, and bedded down, thinking that once the storm had blown over, everything would return to normal, and that we’d be able to get home the next day.
A stressful night of sleep resulted in a morning migraine, which only got worse following a fruitless trip to the train station where we were told only that news would come the next day as to whether the railway system would get back to normal. As it turned out, such hopes were utterly misplaced. The situation which, though on the surface given where we were in Valencia and the apparent normality of life, seemed perfectly normal, was anything but.
Valencia, being situated on a ravine, was vulnerable to ‘cold drip’ , a weather phenomenon which can dump a phenomenal amount of rain in a short period of time. Parts of the city were hammered by a year’s worth of rain, which dropped in only eight hours. Rivers burst their banks and the devastation caused – the fatalities, trauma, and loss – have been well documented in the news.
It was only on our trip back to the airport yesterday where we saw the scale of the destruction: overturned cars; impassable roads; widespread debris and damage. We had been given somewhat of a preview of this upon our return to our hotel in Gandia, where an incredible amount of flotsam had surfaced on the beach, making passage to the sea impossible – I digress however.
Back in Valencia, days before, we were trapped in a sort of limbo: still able to enjoy activities, walk the city in comfort and eat a meal without any issues – but unable to leave it. With absolutely no further information on hand from the authorities at the train station, or the police, we were left with little option but to take matters into our own hands.
After having spent hours considering walking part way out of the city and then trying to sort onward transportation, or even chartering a boat to take us down the coast, I settled on a taxi as the best solution.
Having enjoyed a better rest, I committed to finding a taxi driver who would – somehow – get us moving again, whatever the cost. Of course, I am aware that this was not an option for everyone and I felt very fortunate to be able to take this path – but action had to be taken. Events were starting to bring group morale to new depths. Stuck in the same clothes for a couple of days, my wife having difficulty with her contact lenses and my daughter now becoming visibly upset with it all, I felt that it was my responsibility to fix the problem as best I could.
The trip out of the city was slow and at times frustrating, with road closures put in place by the police, abandoned vehicles and a sense of uncertainty about just how bad things were.
Finally we made it back to our hotel, and were instantly re energised – particularly my daughter who could barely contain her excitement.
It was only in the following hours and days when clarity started to emerge about what we had been part of: over 200 dead; many still missing; destruction of homes, businesses and other property; a sense of anger that the warnings and levels of response had been insufficient.
We were very lucky that our train had been recalled to Valencia. We were very lucky that we were able to find a place to stay. We were very lucky that we had the resources to help ourselves out of the predicament which had contained us.
Being part of such events, albeit as a bystander, gives one a great deal of perspective in order to reflect on important questions: what is truly important in life? How does one respond in a crisis? How does one start to put things back together to get it all back on track?
In an analogical sense, when comparing these events with education, it occured to me that this is, in a sense, how a child at school who is not having their needs met must feel: frustrated by a lack of communication; struggling to see a way forward; morale plummeting; needing the right resources – and support – to feel fulfilled. For want of a better word, lost.
The two days I spent in Valencia over half term were extremely troubling, and I questioned my own abilities to get through it. It snapped into focus, when considering my job, just how important it is to work to help our students to overcome the challenges they face – whether that needs time, resource or expert intervention. It also made it very clear to me just how large the burden of responsibility is for those who have been trusted with power – and how poor decisions, or indeed indecision, can have catastrophic results.
The anger of those in Valencia who have lost so much over the last week towards the King, Prime Minister and Mayor yesterday was entirely understandable.
Did those in power do enough to help when they could?
It is very difficult to give any kind of answer in the affirmative given the confusion over flood prevention, warnings and a delayed response.
As we left our hotel, troops were moving in, based down the coast and deployed in an effort to support the clean up and try to get things back to some kind of normality. They were preceded, however, by a civilian army of volunteers, marching with brooms, spades and other equipment to help their fellow city dwellers. The sight of the many thousands crossing the road bridges to the most devastated parts of their home city was rather moving – and showed what human compassion can be capable of – when a community can come together to save themselves. They grow stronger in spite of their loss. The incredible levels of human resolve in the face of such a disaster was extremely inspiring.
If they can face what they have faced, mentally, physically and financially, and get up the next morning in an effort to put their lives back together, then it is exactly the sort of approach which we all need to adopt. Life is, in many senses, a struggle, and we must seek to overcome the array of challenges which we face to enjoy something better.
From my perspective, I need to question, as someone who bears the burden of responsibility in the College, whether I am doing all that I can to help everyone in our community, students and staff, to overcome their own respective challenges, and particularly those most vulnerable.
Do I foster an environment which empowers them?
Do I ensure that the College is truly inclusive for all?
Do I support the community we have made to ensure that it thrives?
Is everyone safe under my guidance? Are they truly looked after?
These pressing questions weigh on my mind often – and though it is not quite a matter of life and death in acting as a Headteacher, it can seem that way at times. The personal toll can drain energy to alarmingly low levels.
All we can do with the power we have is the best we can for those who depend on us, and that is what will be driving me forward with the most purpose for the next half term – and I hope, beyond.
This week is one which I will not lightly forget.