I remember feeling mixed emotions when I entered my newly-qualified teacher (NQT) year. After a tough PGCE, I was nervous about starting my new career, but I also had an overriding sense of excitement and optimism. I was proud to call myself a teacher.
The bullying started suddenly. In my enthusiasm I missed the warning signs that things might be tough in my new school: the headteacher had a reputation for being extremely authoritarian and although I was employed as a full-time teacher, on my second day in the job I was told I would be part-time support staff which didn’t give me enough hours to complete my NQT year. Instead of having just one subject mentor I ended up having three through the course of the year due to staff changes.
The final subject mentor I was given to insisted on seeing all my lesson plans and resources in detail a week in advance of our first meeting. I had enjoyed a good working relationship with my previous mentors and they had never asked for anything like this so initially I was surprised but decided there was no alternative but to give it my best shot.
During that first meeting with my new mentor, I was told that my plans were unacceptable because I hadn’t included exact details of how I would execute each activity or timings for each of them – hardly surprising given I had had little time to turn this round. She told me that there was no excuse for anything other than excessively detailed plans as an NQT and that although she did not need to plan at her level, I should follow her instructions as she always got “outstanding”.
In the same meeting, my mentor accused me of lying when describing a resource I planned to create for a lesson the following week. She said I hadn’t prepared anything yet and then berated me for not thinking to observe the special educational needs co-ordinator. I was told to re-submit my lesson plans ASAP, as well as those for the following week.
That night, I felt extremely deflated. Is this how experienced teachers encourage their NQTs? Was I being bullied or did she simply have a thorough work style? I was so desperate to make a good impression and pass the year that I decided to stick it out.
But the tough asks kept coming. When I asked for extra time, my mentor would copy senior staff, such as the director of teaching and learning, into emails complaining to me and demanding more plans and resources, which was usually followed up by messages from those senior staff.
It would have been easier if she had balanced this tough approach with some support but she never offered to help me in a meaningful way, often refusing me permission to photocopy worksheets and deliberately withholding resources. She made snide remarks, such as her telling me I had a “doddle of a timetable”, and even shouted at me in front of other staff members one morning. It had been parents’ evening the night before but she still wanted to know why she hadn’t received any new lesson plans.
One morning I was asked to report to the headteacher who wasn’t impressed after speaking to my mentor. He said I needed to submit my plans and resources by the end of the day. By this stage I was a nervous wreck, feeling isolated and unable to concentrate. At home, I would sit for hours staring hopelessly at my computer screen. Although I had had a “good” lesson observation with a particularly difficult class by a senior colleague I had lost all my confidence and was suspicious of everyone. I felt an overwhelming sense of dread, both inside and outside of work.
I complained to my professional mentor. I was wary when I approached her as she was friendly with my subject mentor. She helped me with my plans, but told me to keep my head down and get on with things.
I didn’t feel able to challenge my subject mentor – she had a lot of status in that school. So I did what I thought was my only option; I resigned without completing the year. During some of my notice period, I took time off with stress and my GP prescribed medication to take the edge off my symptoms. When I returned to work, the headteacher told me that there was no point in my remaining at the school as I hadn’t done a good job.
As an NQT, you’re incredibly vulnerable – at the mercy of your first school because you need to pass the year. Schools need to stop viewing new teachers as cannon fodder. Yes, the first year is tough and it is always going to be, but if that’s the case, support should be even more forthcoming. We also need to realise that many teachers choose to make themselves look better at the expense of others. If an NQT mentions this sort of behaviour to senior staff, it needs to be taken more seriously than simply being told to get your head down. My lesson observation proved I had potential – it’s just that instead of developing that the school ground me down and instead of thriving in teaching, I’m now thriving in a new career.
