At some stage I guess I need to explain my absence?… That’s not easy, because self-esteem gets in the way… I don’t want to be ill thought of… but I have to be honest… I am the example…
Exemplar again.
I don’t want to write this… is why I’ve put off for so long… No one likes to admit his or her own shortcomings… besides; I have the excuse – I have to keep this professional… not place myself at risk.
This is a result of self examination… not OFSTED inspection… its taken time… to admit…
Confessional.
Pride cometh before the fall…
Me… all over…
I worry that I am turning into a miserable old git, my humour and zest abandoned. I’ve always been the optimist… lived life to the full and tried to pass on my enthusiasm. A series of unfortunate, recent incidents have placed a huge dent in that… yet on the good days they remain insignificant… or maybe more realistically – manageable.
Self-pity manifests easily when the impression is negative.
Self-pity. Self-indulgence!
But the negatives are positives. Attitude and perception can alter their form, but reality, when accepted is far simpler… everything is exactly as it is… it is I, me, that sits wrong within.
Acceptance clears the path for progress. Denial hinders.
Did I take my eye off of the ball?
Did I put myself first?
My Art first?
Is that permissible?
Which takes precedence? Illness? Family? Education? Self? Others?
There are things that education can never teach us – that’s Experiences job…
Yet…
My life is spent in judgement!… you, me, them, that…
Try turning it off…
Is the “Art of Teaching” simply not to judge? Is the “Art of Teaching” simply not to judge others? Where does that lead? What does that leave?
16 years into my teaching career, for the first time 7 months ago, OFSTED found me wanting… “Needs improvement”.
Brought to the school after two previous, consecutive outstanding judgements by a single anomaly in figures relating to the discrepancy of attainment between male and female pupils, (both still well ahead of the national average), and 2 days before my GCSE moderation visit that gave me my best set of results to date; observed for twenty minutes by a non specialist inspector whilst I taught one of my Year 9 show lessons; found wanting for lack of writing in their sketchbooks, my initial reaction was to tell myself, arrogantly, they were wrong!
I can still feel the burning residue of that resentment now…
But were they?
Honestly?
Its not their findings that count… its my judgement of myself… and if they stirred that… good for them. Would it have hurt if they were wrong?… Only the truth hurts!
I knew things were wrong… we all did… just not with me! Funny thing denial… easier to point the finger… your fault, their failing, weakness…
God it hurt!
My daughter decided to come to us rather than go to the Grammar… her choice had to be supported…
…So I had to look honestly…
I’m not saying this is the only reason… hindsight… but a key factor?
I want my daughters to have the best possible education available to them in the schools that they are in. As a parent that is my right of expectation… as an educator it is criminal neglect if I am not offering it… but truly… I’m the only person who will ever know if that’s the case or not…
Relevant evaluations…
… filter into every aspect of my thinking. There is real danger here that I start making the case for institutions that I disagree with. A borderline I can easily topple over…
So lets compare to artwork… bring it back to what I know…
Honest subjectivity?
What makes a great painting?
Taste? Preference? Price? Medium? Effervescence?
Art reflects life… is life – so perhaps the same criteria apply? Does that make me art? Is that the moment I seek… hung on the wall… complete acceptance?… Just being… being at peace with myself and the world around me?
No verdicts?
