Friday was ‘one of those days’ for me.
Alongside being one of my heaviest teaching days (4 out of 6 lessons – and I think it’s a vital part of my role to be engaged in the classroom), I held three interviews for students wishing to join the College (recruitment is still a key part of my job in early September) and in addition to that, I held a meeting to agree some additional support for a student who making the transition from Year 12 to Year 13 Maths, who is struggling in terms of her attainment.
It’s not that anything particularly negative happened on Friday.
In fact, every aspect of each distinct part of the day went rather positively.
It’s just that in a small school like the College, where multiple jobs tend to need to be carried out by a smaller pool of staff, and this can take its toll.
In amongst the ceaseless pace of Friday, where I didn’t manage to get any time for lunch, and had to take a meeting over the phone, driving home, it rekindled memories of how things used to be for me at my previous school, where I simply felt that I didn’t have enough time to do my job as well as I’d like to.
That feeling of having too much to do, and not enough time to do it is a common one for many people – and, perhaps the most surprising thing for me was just how fleetingly this feeling has come to me while in post. A feeling of not being in control. Of chasing one’s tail. Of struggling to hit the mark. My usual response to such times is simply to work harder, but sometimes this simply isn’t possible.
The rarity of the feeling tends to represent, for me, that the role I am in, is well matched to my abilities and my temperament.
There was one particular meeting which stuck in my mind from the day, as I drove home on Friday. I had met with a student who was keen on joining the College, but had, to that point, had something of a rough ride in education. He was in a school plagued by a lack of aspiration and dedication to studies, where there was next to no chance of fulfilling his potential.
After sitting for a friendly conversation, he was keen to have a tour of the College, and so we walked the floors and classrooms of the building, taking in the quietly productive atmosphere which pervaded the institution.
He was quite overwhelmed by it all.
It was strange – the more we walked around, the more he seemed to grow, delighting in what he was seeing.
As we returned to my office and sat down to discuss the next stage in our admissions process – assessments which provide a full academic profile of the student, showing strengths and weaknesses as well as projections for their performance at the culmination of their next stage of learning, whether that be GCSEs or A Levels – he uttered some words which resonated.
He said to his mother, ‘imagine how well I could do if I had something just like this…’
‘Well..’ I said, ‘it’ll be up to you to make the best of it.’
It is in conversations like this where I’m returned to somewhat of an oasis of calm during days like Friday.
It allows me to think of how far the College has come:
It is financially secure – which means much with the upcoming challenges the sector faces;
It is reputationally as strong as it has ever been;
It remains a place where students produce some truly amazing results which shape their futures.
But more than that…
When one walks around the building and sees how well staff and students engage with one another.
One can truly feel that something special is happening on a daily basis.
It can be humbling to see the effect the College has on students who have come to see education as a barrier rather than an empowering force.
It’s what makes days like Friday tolerable.