Since leaving the state sector to teach in a private school, life has changed considerably. For starters, I have a life. I have reclaimed my evenings and have discovered that Sunday can be quite a day without the dread of planning/marking/wondering why you teach.
The main thing behind my liberation is that I am now trusted to do my job. My plans don’t need to be written in finite detail, with percentages and colour coded highlighting, because it is assumed that I know how to cater for the children in my class. My colleagues know that plans might change – my children might take a different route in their learning, and it’s my job to guide them to the other side having learned something.
Other benefits are more obvious. I have 19 children in my class and a full-time teaching assistant (TA); last year I had 32 children and a TA until 11.30am. I have not once been asked to fill in nine-page Excel spreadsheets on data, probably because the school has worked out that when children are six years old it makes no difference to them as people, to their learning or to my teaching.
You might wonder how I spend this new-found time. Most importantly, I have spent it on the children, learning who they are. This, incidentally, tells me far more about their progress than any spreadsheet could. I hear them read one-to-one, and I share my love of books by reading stories and bringing them to life – it’s a dream to hear them asking for more Esio Trot.
I also have the time and energy to bring joy to my lessons. When I teach history, I use drama; we all travel back in time, becoming famous people and acting out scenes from the plague or the great fire of London. All the children in class create the most fantastic works of art. And I mean all because my pupils with special educational needs are properly catered for; they don’t miss out on the afternoon subjects for intervention.
My marking is much improved, too. I have more time to spend on the books, marking in detail when it is necessary and giving children guidance they can actually understand – they are six, after all. I shudder when I remember hauling 96 books home that had to be marked by the next day. Now I get my marking done at school and go home at a reasonable time without the book trolley. I can see my friends, do some exercise and sleep. Going to bed earlier has made me a better teacher, and generally a better person.
There are times where my state school alter ego questions certain elements of my new post. I sometimes feel as though I’ve gone back in time. The plans are very basic. I laughed out loud when I was handed a “teacher’s planner” jotter – the notion of writing notes for each day instead of A4 plans seemed utter madness.
Data also seems to be a foreign concept. In a meeting recently, someone asked: “Maybe we could track their results on the computer?” My state school mind panicked: “Please don’t let the data train stop here, that’s where the madness starts!” However, the other part of me wonders how we are so antiquated. While I would never ever want data to define the children, a simple spreadsheet, used once a term so we can see how they are doing in writing, reading, maths and science, could be helpful.
The pressure from parents is also tough. They can email me whenever they want, which was really overwhelming at first. I have had the classic pushy parents who insist their child should be top of the year group. More surprisingly, I have also had the other end of the spectrum – the ones who have never signed the reading record, or made it to parents’ evening.
The way I have dealt with it is to just communicate the best I can, be honest and kind. To be fair, their money is invested in me doing a good job and I know I will. I have also found my colleagues to be supportive – if a problem arises, the parents are dealt with fairly and truthfully.
Initially, I felt guilty for leaving my state school pupils, who don’t have access to all these wonderful facilities and opportunities. Didn’t they need me more? The resounding fact is, it doesn’t matter where these children are from, they all have issues. They misbehave, get sick, get bullied, suffer neglect and are under enormous (unrealistic) pressure to succeed when they should be enjoying their childhood. Money and a full-time TA do not exclude them from this experience and my job is still to guide them through. In many ways, I just feel like I have directed energies elsewhere, including spending some of my free time doing charity work helping children who need help more than any children I’ve ever known.
I am not trying to represent all schools state or private, I’m sure there are some amazing, happy state schools and some miserable private schools. I am not advertising private schools nor condemning state schools, I can only comment on my experience. But, for the first time since I enrolled on my PGCE, I am doing what I set out to do – teach.
The author writes under a pseudonym.
• This article was amended on 15 April 2016 to modify the author’s pseudonym.
