From tales told by my Mum and Dad I was neither exceptional nor problematic at school. I floated consistently under the radar, never causing trouble nor seeking it out. I kept my head down and did as I was told.
My earliest school memory was watching Mrs Wood, the then supply teacher, (who at a later point in my life would resurface as the owner of a holiday home where we were staying in Torquay. You can imagine my shock upon arrival) write the date, ending it with 1998. I remember this vividly for two reasons. Firstly, it was World Cup year and I was and still am football mad! Secondly, I was trying desperately to ram Frank Laboeuf’s Chelsea strip which took the form of a pencil topper on to the top of my pencil. A recent acquisition after some intense bartering with a friend who in return had gained the entire contents of my pencil case along with my actual pencil case!
I proceeded to work through my school years, uninspired and consistently under achieving. My primary schools chosen method of ‘streaming’ resulted in a life long membership to the ‘bottom group’ club. A club which I remained in from year 3 all the way up until the end of year 11. Interpret this in anyway you like. To this day, this experience continues to influence my view on differentiation both as a teacher and now as a leader.
As I continued to meander through school, continually counting down the days until the weekend would appear and provide me with a moments peace from the wheel of fortune esque blackboard transitioning from a squared background to a lined one. I was yet to find anything I was good at. Counting was tricky, reading did not come naturally and consequently my writing was poor. I did however enjoy P.E but was uninspired by the prospect of running around the hall in my pants and vest.
My ongoing search for ‘my thing’ continued until year 5 when my Mum and Dad took me to my local football team. I loved football, I would mess around in the playground but didn’t know if I could play at the standard required to be part of a team but was willing to give it a good bash. From that point onwards I was hooked. I’d found my thing. Sport.
It was a physical light bulb moment for me. My developing skills as a footballer were transferring into P.E. As I progressed through junior school I was getting recognised for my ability to play all kinds of sports. I took part in athletics events, hockey, cricket, football, tag rugby and rounders. I’d found something I was good at. Something which came with no groupings and for that 1 hour a week I could actually do something and do it well.
The knock on effect of all of this was not a dramatic increase in my academic ability, I was still a proud member of the ‘bottom group’ club. Sport gave me confidence, so much so that I ended up playing Viv Reeves in our year 6 performance of ‘Shooting Stars’. Upon reflection, rubbing my legs mumbling ‘The Lovely Miss Spears’ was a little odd and In truth, a re-enactment of such a TV show for an end of year 6 performance isn’t something you would probably get away with nowadays. Nonetheless, it was a welcomed pick me up after receiving my SATs results!
I remember getting my SATs results like it was yesterday, it wasn’t, it was 17 years ago but as I write this, I think I understand why it stuck with me…
One fateful afternoon out of the blue, my then teacher announced that he would be giving out our SATs results. Like all good teachers, he had planned an art holding activity to free himself up to meet with each child and tell them their results. Naturally, he gave the results in alphabetical order, my surname is T and so I waited…
Let’s be honest, no art was completed that day, we simply waited for each person to return from the teachers desk before we bombarded them with ‘so what did you get then!?’. My close circle of friends had all been, returned and received nothing less than 5,5,5 or 4,5,5. It was now my turn. ‘Well Josh, you got a 3 in maths’. I anticipated this, I detested maths, my Dad said he was never good at it at school which in turn gave me the excuse not to be as well, surely? ;). ‘In reading Josh you got a 4’. Fair play I thought, not disastrous, I’ll take it! Now for the final result ‘In writing you got a 4, I don’t know how on Earth you did that’ my teacher said with surprise.
So to surmise. 3,4,4, a shocked teacher and a humiliating walk back to my table of what seemed like little Einstein’s to tell them all about my distinctly sub standard results. Upon reflection, there was a few things that bothered me about this whole process:
1. My grades reinforced the academic narrative for myself which was fed to me by the school from a young age.
2. My teacher didn’t have higher expectations for me and what I could achieve.
3. It was humiliating. I knew my standing in the world of academia and this whole process simply served to reinforce what I already knew about myself.
As I neared the end of year 6 football was taking over for me, I was playing club football at a good standard but was gaining some serious interest from professional clubs when I played for my school team. I left primary and started secondary, a once big fish in a little pond was now a small fish in a very big pond.
As I progressed through secondary, school stopped being a place to learn and instead became a place to socialise, play sport and more specifically play football. In terms of my academic journey, I continued to play out the same narrative as I did in Primary. I was in the bottom set for all core subjects and was accepting of this. I kept my head down, focused on sport and football and didn’t cause any bother to anyone.
As we neared the end of year 10 and start of year 11 I was yet to work out what I wanted to do. Football was still at the forefront of it all, I was gaining interest from the likes of Derby county and was being monitored Leicester City. However, after thinking about this, I lacked the self confidence which would have accelerated me to the next level and subsequently after a bad ankle injury football and any prospect of it becoming a job dwindled away. Now what? I thought. It was surely time I knew what I wanted to do in life…
GCSE results day came around. Naturally my expectations were low. But in truth, I did okay. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t set the world alight and I wasn’t on track for a degree in medicine but I did dramatically better than that which my teachers predicted for me. Let’s just say that if we were to apply Gavin Williamson’s algorithm to myself, it would not have ended well for me. I was now at a cross roads, did I want to do A levels? Graphic design and PE were all I was really interested in but word on the street was A levels were hard work. The other option, a BTEC in sport and exercise science, the option which all my friends had chosen. PE all day and the prospect of being with my close group of friends for the next 2 years. This was a no brainer!!
And so my BTEC journey began. Alongside sixth form I was working as a tennis coach. After football I had taken up golf and tennis and ended up teaching tennis at my local tennis club in the evenings. The more I got into tennis coaching the more I thought that it was the job for me and consequently tried less and less in my BTEC. As we neared the end of my 2 years at sixth form I had started to teach tennis within primary schools as part of their PE offer. My BTEC grade already secured, I was to pass, no merit or distinction, just pass. I was okay with this. I would continue teaching tennis and all would be well. Until…
During a session I was delivering at a local primary school in Nottingham I was accompanied by the Headteacher. I taught my session and it went well. At the end of it the Head turned to me and said ‘have you ever thought about being a primary school teacher?’ No I said as I laughed off his suggestion. ‘You’d be really good at that’ he said as he left the hall. Would I? Really? This played on my mind for a few days until I spoke to my mum about it. Teaching runs in my family and so we looked at what was required to get into University to do a BA honours in Primary Ed and suffice to say it wasn’t 3 BTEC pass marks. I needed distinction, distinction, distinction. Well I was well off the mark. I couldn’t be further off the marks required if I tried! The only way I could make amends would be to go back for another year, redo all modules and bring them up to the standard needed to get into uni. So that’s what I did. I re sat the year, teaching tennis wherever possible. For once, I knew what I wanted to do and I knew what I was working towards!
I was on track for my D,D,D required to get into uni. Time came to apply. I put down my 4 choices, hierarchically ordered in terms of their night life quality and I sent it off to Mr UCAS. 1st choice, DENIED! 2nd choice, DENIED! 3rd choice, DENIED! 4th choice, provisionally accepted pending interview. A then disappointment but looking back, I wouldn’t for a second be in the position I am in nor blessed with the wife and family I have now if this wasn’t the hand I was dealt.
I then began my teacher training journey. Each phase cementing my desire to be a teacher. This is what I was meant to do all along, I just had to take a different route than others to get to it. However, every step taken along the way from the ceiling placed on my learning at a young age, to the lack of expectation placed on me by my teachers, to my failed football career, to my attempted coaching career, to my sixth form retake year moulded me into the teacher I became and continue to be to this day.
So why did I want to be a head?
Up until the point which I am about to make I had very little experience with leaders, more specifically Headteachers. I had floated into teaching, realising relatively late on that it was what I wanted to do. However, I was inspired to be a leader by a gentleman named Leigh Wolmarans (I’m sure he won’t mind me naming him). Leigh was the Head of school in a relatively deprived area in Northampton where I did a placement during my second year of teaching. Leigh, was and is a proud South African man. He valued the performing arts and sport just as much as he did English and maths. He continually led by example, teaching lessons, leading workshops, opening big cross school events, his whole school assemblies where he would teach the school values through retelling stories such as Star Wars had me hooked. Leigh’s school provided children with a plethora of opportunities for them to find their ‘thing’, no child was forgotten about, no child was left uninspired! He had created a school where it was impossible not to want to attend. A school where I would have given anything to attend as a child! How could anyone not be inspired to lead after seeing this first hand? The placement was relatively short but the impact it had on me is something I still carry with me today. Fortunately, I was able to become a Head much quicker than I ever anticipated. After taking my first headship I told my mum. She said ‘promise me that you will not forget about the children like you’.
I would like to bring this to a conclusion as I am aware this is getting a little long winded and potentially out of hand. I’d like to end on the following points:
1. It is our moral duty to ensure that we do not place a ceiling on any child’s learning.
2. Children have to know they can be better and we have to create the environment which makes them want to get better.
3. Our role as educators is to provide children with as many opportunities as possible to give them the greatest chance to find their ‘thing’.
4. It is imperative that we do not forget about the forgettable children. Those children that just get on and cause no problems. Watch carefully.
5. Regardless of background, academic ability and circumstance we have to set our expectations sky high for all children. Because if we don’t, no one might.
I didn’t always know I wanted to be a teacher and that’s fine. What I do know now is I could never be anything else. I have the greatest job in the world and feel so lucky to be able to work within our incredible profession.
The Fortuitous Head 