As a newly-qualified teacher more than three decades ago, I innocently asked why my classroom didn’t have carpet when my friends’ in other schools did. “Because blood soaks into carpets,” came the answer.
I’ve worked in challenging schools ever since, so when I was asked to work as an executive headteacher at our trust’s alternative provision (AP), I rather hubristically thought it couldn’t be much different. Oh, how wrong I was!
An eye-opener
First off, I have found it incredibly hard working with young people who really don’t care who I am. It takes time to build relationships, and it takes a very special person to stick with it.
It’s often tough, but not as tough as you might imagine. Having fewer students on site and smaller classes certainly makes things feel more manageable.
However, smaller settings also mean fewer senior leaders and a lot more to juggle – a strong argument to look again at how the sector is funded to retain the best staff.
That said, as more children experience dysregulation and mental health issues in mainstream, there’s a lot to learn from AP about how to adapt. I’ve come to the conclusion that everyone should spend time in AP, including those on initial teacher training or en route to QTS.
An addictive buzz
There are disproportionately more children in AP who are in care, have social workers, are or have been involved with criminality, come from under-resourced backgrounds, live in chaotic homes and are at greater risk of exploitation.
Like all children, these children are amazing: funny, insightful, candid and driven by fairness. At the same time, they can frequently be suspicious, protective and angry.
Practically every one of them has a backstory that would break your heart, and the vast majority of staff time is spent trying to make their futures more stable and safer.
At our AP, we all sit down to eat lunch together; there is no script, no pre-set topic of discussion, but the conversations are warm, open and good-natured. The buzz you get from AP is incredible and addictive.
A fresh start
As a mainstream secondary head, I am used to pondering why primary schools haven’t diagnosed need, but it is truly shocking just how many children have been punished for behaviours they often have little control over.
Nearly every child who arrives in AP has an undiagnosed special educational need, many needing an urgent EHCP application.
To make matters worse, children often feel as if they’ve been “thrown away” when they come to AP, whether as a preventative intervention or because of a permanent exclusion.
The additional staffing in AP, including multi-disciplinary teams of therapists, means we can react to these needs and give children a fresh start – albeit a late one.
Often, their experience of school has drained them of their self-worth and ambition. Many who could return to mainstream become fearful of failing again. Rebuilding their confidence is a top priority and a highly rewarding part of the job.
A different perspective
As a headteacher, it is right that I reserve the right to permanently exclude as a last resort, but I have learned that not all heads feel the same way. It’s hard to argue “last resort” when no support, interventions or referrals have been made for children who clearly need them.
Likewise, I met two children on the same day who had been permanently excluded for the same offence: bringing a bladed weapon to school. One had brought in a knife with the intention of using it as a weapon. The other had brought in a bike tool to fix his chain and had never been in trouble before.
Leading in education is a rollercoaster at the best of times, and it seems some would prefer a leisurely ride rather than the highs and lows of the job.
In AP, those highs and lows are magnified – leaving you exhausted and elated, heartbroken and euphoric. It’s really addictive and well worth a go, if only to build your own tolerance back in your mainstream setting.
Everyone would benefit.
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