Comprehensive Teacher, Grammar Mother

Over the last couple of years, I have noticed an increasing number of friends and acquaintances insisting until they are blue in the face that as a teacher, I must be interested in politics and I must have an opinion on things.  Until quite recently, I have been quite happy to reply that no, in fact, as a teacher I must be interested in Shakespeare and I must have time for planning and marking, and after that I must have time for a rest and a sleep and a cup of tea, and in between all of that very concrete stuff, I don't have time for any more abstract musts.

Brexit, however, changed quite a lot of that.  The result of the referendum came on the morning I went into labour and my little French-British son was born into a country that seemed to be pretty unwelcoming to half of his identity.  Suddenly this very abstract concept of politics was very personal to me, and the same thing seems to be happening with this whole grammar school debate.

Let me outline my position to you in brief: I am a Teach First ambassador and, unsurprisingly, therefore a big socialist.  I adamantly believe that a free education can be an excellent education because I had one.  As a trainee teacher in a 'challenging' comprehensive school surrounded by grammars, I also experienced first hand the damaging nature of selective schooling on both children as people and children as data sets.  My teacher head therefore knows that the UK would be a much better place for our children if there were no private schools and no grammar schools.

As a mother, however, my thoughts are completely different.  I don't like to think of myself as a hypocrite, but given the options in my area of private, grammar or struggling comprehensive, I'm going to pick what is best for my bilingual, literate, gentle baby.  Grammar, it is; hypocrite I am, and shamefacedly I contribute to what my politically informed friends are calling 'The Tragedy of the Commons'.  Oh dear.  My problem is that I want an enriched, French horn-playing, sailing club, Latin-lesson education for my son, but my local comprehensive can't offer this.  The tragedy is, that as long as parents like me who want this kind of education for their child are sending their babies to grammars and private schools, my local comprehensive will never be able to offer this.  By choosing what is best for my child, therefore, I am perpetuating a culture that I despise.

This MaternityTeacher is not about sitting around feeling ashamed about her own hypocrisy, however.  This MaternityTeacher is about grassroots action and bottom-up change-making, so I have thought of the most genius solution that would mobilise and empower not just the MaternityTeacher PaternityTeacher community, but parents on leave all over the country: as a parent, if your local comprehensive school doesn't offer the type of things you'd like your child to experience in 11 years time, then why not use your skills to do something about it and build the educational culture that you want for your child?

For example, I am a classically trained musician and I want to send my son to a school with an orchestra and a choir.  The music department of my local comprehensive school, however, has only been operating for six weeks, and does not have the capacity for extra-curricular clubs at present.  Why don't I, therefore, volunteer once a week to run the choir?  Whilst I'm at it, why don't I see if the school will let me take my son with me for this hour so that he absorbs all this music making from his bouncer?

If other parents on leave in my area did the same thing, then our local comprehensive could look exactly as we want it to for our children: rugby club on a Wednesday, string group on a Thursday, book club on a Monday, sailing club on a Friday, DofE trek at the weekend.  It might be eleven years until our own children would benefit from this, but if, when we go back to work, another parent takes on the project that we have started, then the cultures that we want will be well-established and we will have a school that not only rivals the local grammar and private options, but a school that has made a sustainable and positive impact on our community.

There's no denying that any school-based volunteer work is great CPD, so is this kooky commune thinking, or is this actually a really good MaternityTeacher PaternityTeacher opportunity?

@WomenEd Reflections

So.  For those of you who weren’t quite sure what I meant by ‘endlessly optimistic’ and ‘frighteninglystubborn’, here’s a reckless story of irresponsible risk-taking for you: today is my due date, but we know first babies never come on time – I’ve read books about it and heard many a first-hand anecdote.  ‘Plan something for that day,’ a very good friend counselled me, so, instead of sitting twiddling my thumbs, I thought that attending a @WomenEd Lead Meet would be a good idea.  Thus far, this baby has been very well behaved and I am a strong believer in the power of positive thinking.  He is a considerate and thoughtful foetus, I decided, so he’ll work around this networking event.  

It was my first time at a @WomenEd event, and I have to say, even the decision to get on the tube was empowering experience.  One of @Miss_Wilsey's mantras is to 'be 10% braver', and one thing that I am committing to whilst being on maternity leave is to try my hardest to ensure that this time works for me - me as a mother, me as a professional, me as a human being.  If I feel like napping, I nap.  If I need to change nappies, I will change nappies.  If I can complete online learning, I will complete online learning.  If everything has to stop for baby's needs, then everything will stop.  Like the inspiring Karen Edwards who travelled around the world with her baby on her maternity leave, I am determined that there will only be solutions.  I could have sat this one out, just in case, but I decided to be 10% braver, changed out of maternity yoga pants, threw on a blazer, communicated the 'in case of emergency' plan to a colleague and jumped on the tube.

The 'Lead Meet' style get together was run as a series of short presentations from a whole variety of different women who shared lessons and models of leadership based on personal and professional experience.  Even during the event, reflections were being documented in a Twitter explosion (#WomenEd #LeadMeet), but at the end of the presentations, we were invited to reflect more comprehensively on our ‘takeaways’, so here are mine:

1. Networking is important.  

2. Now is the time to inspire.

3. The path of leadership journeys ne'er did run smooth.

Time to Inspire

In my previous #maternityteacher post, I asked the question, 'Where is my inspiration or role model to follow?' in this pursuit of balancing motherhood, maternity leave and career progression.  I have always been very fortunate to have benefitted from coaches and mentors.  Sometimes these have been formal arrangements through schools and Teach First, and sometimes these have been informal or more personal - my mother, for example, just so happens to be a retired deputy head; I have latched on to colleagues who have inspired me and turned to them for advice and advocacy; social media has provided me with a great space to question more distant, but equally inspirational leaders.  What has always been very clear, however, is my sense of a right to this sort of support, and the value of it.  My most profound development has always come out of exchanges, conversations and advice offered by those more experienced than me.

At yesterday's @WomenEd Lead Meet, however, I was reminded (by @benniekara or @cjproflead?) that actually, I have come to a point in my career where it is my turn to lead and inspire and act as a role model to others.  One woman, Ania (no Twitter handle, alas), reminded us that we have a duty to repay the advocacy and 'sponsorship' given to us by our coaches and mentors in some way - loyalty, innovation, hard graft - and other speakers developed this concept by suggesting that at a certain point in our leadership journey, it is our responsibility to repay this sponsorship by paying it forwards and providing the same form of support to others.

Like the majority of teachers, I am familiar with thriving on my role as a nurturer, facilitator, role model, inspiration to the students that I teach.  There's nothing more life-affirming than a student who tells you that you made a difference, or were their best teacher EVER or who managed to achieve a seemingly impossible grade thanks, in part, to your hard work and commitment.  In fact, this feeling of being needed and making an impact is probably one of the most powerful motivations for getting out of bed in the morning, for many teachers, which is why the two weeks of maternity leave before the baby's arrival comes as a huge cultural shift to many women.

As a teacher becomes more experienced, it is highly likely that they will begin to act as a mentor or coach to trainees or teachers with less experience to them, and therefore this sphere of inspirational influence can grow.  The kids still matter, of course, but now that life-affirmation has been turned up a notch and takes the form of hampers and cards from your mentee that say, 'you have simply been the most fantastic mentor, friend and (on occasions) mother I could have hoped for'.  I have also been fortunate enough to facilitate and act as an Associate Tutor for Teach First, and having a room full of sixty trainees hanging off your every word about grammar or shout out involuntarily that your blog is 'VERY HELPFUL' to a room full of people is pretty ego-boosting stuff.

However, it wasn't until last night that I saw this role as anything more than a selfish perk: I like facilitating, I like mentoring.  It satisfies my insecure need to be validated by others and gives me a sense of purpose that keeps the potential mental health demons at bay.  In short, I do it to sustain and reassure myself in a very egocentric and isolated manner, not because I have ever seen myself as part of a bigger professional ladder, upon which, as I climb, I am duty bound to reach down and lend a hand to others below me, as well as demand support from those above me.

Instead, therefore, of continuing to demand inspiration for myself, @WomenEd has inspired me to take a more explicit and active approach to my own duty as a role model, and has left me with the following questions:

• How can I support and lead other teachers who are also on maternity leave?
• In six months, how can I continue to flexibly support those to whom I have already acted as a formal or informal mentor or coach?
• How can I use my maternity leave to advocate for female leaders currently teaching/ in school settings/ in the wider educational environment?
• How can I use the power of networking to present myself as a very clear, open and accessible source of support and leadership to other teachers who do connect with me as a role model?

And now, over to you: especially if you are taking an extended maternity leave (i.e. 12 months or more), this role of coaching or mentoring could be the perfect way for you to flexibly use your experience and skills to benefit others in your industry.  Coaches have such a significant impact on others, but a the training and frequency of coaching conversations in many volunteer organisations has a fairly minimal impact on your family commitments.  Why not check out these pathways to see if anything fits your maternity leave set up:

• Women Leading in Education: a UK government nationwide initiative to provide female leaders in education with free coaches.
• Teach First Coaching: a dedicated team in this education charity provides coaches for NQTs and Teach First 'Ambassadors' (like me!) who might still be in teaching, or other sectors after they have completed the two year programme in 11 different regions across the country.
• Graydin: a London based coaching company who run training for both schools and members of the general public, preparing you to be a competent coach.
• Your former school/ company: what opportunities are there to continue to provide support to colleagues within your organisation, and what training can your companies provide for you?
• VOLO: a charity that connects skilled volunteers with socially-minded companies, including coaching and mentoring opportunities, predominantly for school-aged students.

The Power of Networking

Networking is important: it builds connections and communities with likeminded people.  It enables you to tap into expertise and experience that you don’t have and learn from it.  It can introduce you to lots of lovely, abstract ideas like wisdom, reflection, empowerment and knowledge and is the best way to begin growing a vine of connections that branches out and blooms in all directions.  Did you know, for example, that there is an organisation called the Leading Women's Alliance (@LeadingWomenHT) who actively support women's journey into headship, or that the DfE have a whole programme that offers free coaching to female leaders in education?  I didn't!  This sort of knowledge and bridge building - if acted upon - can lead to very tangible things like interviews, promotions, career changes, support systems, publicity and more events with free nibbles.

The stereotypical image of professional socialising and networking, however - drinks, small talk, golf, long lunches, drunken debauchery - are often male-dominated, and rarely pregnancy or family friendly.  Whilst I am loathe to promote gender-exclusivity in any way, and cannot envision a world where the current statistics on headship and gender in secondary schools were reversed instead of balanced out, anecdotal evidence does seem to point towards the power of networking: those who do it get ahead, those who don't cannot influence or lead in isolation, but stories of powerful CEOs exchanging strategy over a relaxed family picnic or during baby yoga are few and far between.  Fortunately for women, however, in this 21st feminist century, there is a growing movement of more "feminine" networking circles like @WomenEd who simply have to accept and work around the demands of parenting and childcare in order to remain authentic and inclusive of their target audience, in the same way that they are obliged to celebrate and validate single women.

What is great news, in regards to the #maternityteacher conversation, is that - with a solutions focused approach - a lot of networking can be done in baby-friendly environments or on baby-friendly hours, sometimes without the need for childcare and, what's more, mothers on maternity leave are working on far more flexible time than colleagues who are tied into the classroom for ten hours a day.  True, you may not be sleeping half as much as them, but what about the following ideas:

• Many non-school educational organisations work normal office hours.  That means they are allowed to escape their desks for lunch.  Lo and behold, on maternity leave, you too are free for lunch.  If you have a baby that sleeps, or is quiet, or the person you are meeting just loves babies and is thrilled to have a half hour squeeze, you have built in a 30 minute meeting that other colleagues were too busy marking and supervising detentions to even think about.

• If you have a baby that never sleeps, screams, pukes and demands attention at all the wrong moments, and a friend who conveniently works in one of those fancy offices on the South Bank just down the road from your intended meeting cafe and who just wishes they had more time to spend getting to know your baby (this is a real life friend I'm thinking of), pull in the favour and ask them to have a baby-lunch whilst you zip off for your networking event.

• One lightbulb moment at this @WomenEd Lead Meet came when I heard @soph_bailey explain that her NCT group had provided her with amazing connections with leaders in business and organisations that had helped her to form the EdTech Podcast.  Other women who do your job, or who can help you to do your job better, are on maternity leave, too!  The more you talk and engage with social media in your pyjamas whilst breastfeeding, the more of these women you will discover. They might be at events you are able to attend, or friends of women attending events, or made known to you by articles you post on Twitter or blogs you write on StaffRM.  Find them, engage with them, invite them for coffee, coo over each others' babies and exchange tips on sleep patterns as well as strategically planning the next five years of your ascent to power.

• Lots of networking events happen at the weekend, and here is where I can really not be smug or optimistic: my husband works six days a week, my parents live three hours from me, my family-in-law live in a different country.  My best chance for weekend childcare is my sister, who is self-employed and so often has to cancel last minute because she gets a spontaneous booking.  However, as @TBAPTSA advised me, sorting out difficult conversations with your partner as early as possible can save a lot of tension in the long run.  Knowing when these events happen, organising those childcare responsibilities in advance for a set of agreed priorities (i.e. if a networking event falls on a Saturday, then hubby works his sixth day on Sunday/ my parents are visiting that weekend with the express purpose of babysitting on the Saturday afternoon) means that you will be free to attend and make the most of those events.

• When you are able to attend these events, it is likely/ possible that you will attend with a far more calculated agenda than others who have had a manic week and have not had the time to sit down and reflect over their intentions and goals for the conversations they are hoping to have.  I have been in that exact position: turning up at networking events not really knowing the focus of the evening or the people who will be there and mostly wishing I could be back at home with a bacon sandwich or worrying about the lessons that I have not planned.  If you have the time during the week to prepare for these events, however, you are much more likely to walk away having made more productive use of your time.

• Prioritise: teaching is exhausting. Being pregnant is exhausting.  Having a baby is exhausting.  Getting yourself and the baby washed and dressed, fed, in a buggy, getting the buggy out of the skinny corridor to the front door, getting the buggy to the tube platform in a station that has no lift access, on the tube, off the tube, feeding the baby, trying to look professional, navigating the buggy across London Bridge's cobbled streets, into a cafe, feeding the baby, changing the baby, sitting down for a networking chat, remembering any resources you wanted to bring with you, soothing the baby, feeding the baby, engaging with your colleague and then doing the whole thing in reverse is exhausting.  Be realistic about what you can manage - one professional coffee a month?  One professional lunch a week?  An entire day blocked out so that you can come home, change into your pyjamas at 3pm after the lunch and dedicate the rest of the daylight hours to recovering?  If you can't do it all, then think strategically: which commitments are going to make the most significant impact on your goals, and which would be biting off more than you can chew?  

• Be 10% braver: even the thought of this makes me shudder a little at the lack of professionalism, but babies are very real, present human beings and cannot just be left alone.  For the first few months of their lives, especially, they are particularly reliant on their mothers.  In some situations, it's unfortunate that they also make a lot of noise and require attention, but this is just the reality of a baby, and the reality of accommodating and empowering half the world's workforce is intrinsically linked to the tolerance, acceptance and adaptation to these noisy, messy, needy, space-consuming little people.  Is it therefore really a crime to ask, 'Do you mind if I bring my baby?' or 'Will there be childcare provided?' or even to state, confidently, and unapologetically, 'I'll be bringing my baby' or 'What are the childcare arrangements for the day?'  We would never dream of telling a wheelchair user, 'I'm sorry, this event isn't appropriate for you', so why is it such a squeamish, uncomfortable thought to feel self-righteous about the presence of someone that - in some situations - we can't just leave at a left luggage station?  Should we be 10% braver and simply ask, when we have the opportunity to network, if our baby can come along too?  Is a move towards reframing this baby-unfriendly attitude - whether it be reality or simply a mother's paranoid perception - part of the wider struggle for gender equality in the workplace?