Changes 3

The last couple of posts have been about school and our education system and how that has led to me leaving teaching. Today, I want to share something more personal and that is my disability and how that affects my ability to work.

Close family and friends already know some of this stuff but bear with me for those that don't. In April 2012 I had a spinal cord injury. The lowest disc (L5/S1) prolapsed and sort of fell out into the bottom of my spine. At the bottom of the spinal column, the nerves spread out like a horse's tail and that group of nerves is called cauda equina. When the disc prolapsed, those cauda equina nerves got crushed. It can be on either side or both. For me it affected my left side. It should have been operated on immediately but for a whole number of reasons, I didn't get into surgery for many weeks and this left me with permanent nerve damage due to cauda equina syndrome. At around the same time, the tremor that I'd had from childhood suddenly got worse. I suspect the two are connected but I can't be sure.

So how does all this affect me? The first thing to mention is pain. I seem to be getting a better deal than most in terms of pain levels. I have constant low level pain and stiffness in my lower back, almost like a nagging reminder to be careful. To keep this pain at a low level, I have to do physio (exercises and stretches, loosely based on Pilates) three times a day. I don't like taking painkillers unless I'm in agony because they dull the mind and make me sleepy. Exercise is the key to feeling as well as possible.

My left leg is numb from the thigh down to my foot, on the outside and back edge. Mostly, I feel nothing but that nothingness is interspersed with muscle cramps and shooting nerve pains. I also get 'imaginary' sensations, like a spider crawling up my leg or water pouring down my leg. The side of my foot is always cold and feels a bit like rigamortis has set in. This affects my mobility. I can walk but it's a bit variable, depending on how much I've overdone it the day before. I can't manage hills or uneven ground. My balance is rubbish and I fall over a lot. For those reasons, I usually walk with a stick, sometimes with crutches and for longer trips, I use a self-propelled wheelchair. I used to use a mobility scooter but then I couldn't walk at all. With a wheelchair, I can walk a bit and ride a bit.

If you follow the link above, you can read about some of the more embarrassing symptoms. The need to be near a loo at all times is the most bothersome, especially in a work context.

I don't have any photos of me in my wheelchair but Andy likes 'playing' in it and he's a stunning model!

So how does all this affect my ability to work? Let me start by saying that I am a very determined person. I was desperate to come back here, work as a teacher and prove that being disabled doesn't stop you doing a good job. It hurts beyond words that the combination of the job and my disability have defeated me. Having said that, I think that a different job would be totally manageable.

Let's quickly(ish) run through a day in school:

5:30 a.m. Get up, eat, drink coffee, do 20 minutes physio, shower, get dressed and ready. That takes about 90 minutes because I'm stiff and it's a bit slow getting going.

7:00 a.m. Short drive to walk (round the seafront - beautiful!) before getting the classroom ready. This is the best bit of the day unless tables need moving. Moving tables and chairs is very painful on the back.

8:40 a.m. Toilet visit. I know I don't stand a chance of making it through to break but everyday I hope I will.

8:45 a.m. Class starts. We generally do literacy first. I have 3rd set - low ability and need a lot of support. Actually this is a great lesson. I have to be interactive, dynamic, raise motivation, etc. but the children are lovely. Some of them bring baggage with them, so once they are working, I generally go and sit (on a hard plastic chair) to help them along a bit.

9:30 a.m. Start thinking about how and when I can make a dash for the toilet.

10:00 a.m. Might have left it too late but the toilet is right outside the head's office and he saw me yesterday (and the day before) and I'm embarrassed about the possibility that he might think I'm slacking. Gotta go though. Wish my stick didn't click with every step. It's like announcing my visit.

10:45 Break - ahhhh! Toilet break and a snack to keep the tremors down.

11:00 Maths - set 1 - very able. Mentally exciting lesson! My back is now beginning to ache quite badly from leaning over desks to help people, sitting on hard plastic chairs and holding 26 A4 books to give out. I should get someone else to do this but never seem to remember until afterwards.

12:00 Lunch. Generally I walk to the shop because it's the only flat walk I get without help. I go and buy a sandwich and cake from the bakers. Half way back, the cramps and shooting pains start but I know I can make it. I talk to myself, "Keep going. Nearly there. Walking, walking, just keep walking!" Ooops! Children are watching me talking to myself. Pull phone out and talk to that instead.

12:30 Eat lunch in my classroom (the staffroom is upstairs and I just can't be bothered with stairs) whilst talking to whichever child(ren) are having family/friendship/behaviour issues. Usually there's more than one! Dinnerladies start pouring in with complaints about that one (there's always one) who seems intent on ruining everyone's day.

1:00 p.m. Afternoon lessons begin. This is more stressful as I don't have a teaching assistant most afternoons, so I can't leave the room and it's 2 hours until home time. My legs and back are really aching now and I would love to lie flat. I'm thirsty but I daren't drink too much and my head is beginning to ache. Still, I keep smiling and try to be as positive as possible. Afternoon lessons can be really good fun but often need more physical activity. ICT is good because I can sit in a really comfy chair and wheel around to help the kids.

3:00 p.m. TOILET!!!

3:10 p.m. Marking books

3:30 p.m. Still marking books

4:00 p.m. More books

4:30 p.m. Go home and take the rest of the books with me.

4:45 p.m. I'll just mark some books while Josh cooks dinner.

6:00 p.m. Dinner - silently and otherwise I thank God for Josh being such a good cook.

6:30 p.m. Mark more books.

8:00 p.m. I'll just have a cuddle with Andy of the sofa before I finish the marking. Physio first because I've just realised I missed the afternoon session.

9:30 p.m Neil wakes me and sends me to bed.

And so the cycle continues. Week 1 of the term is manageable but by the end of term, I'm shattered! Adding in the inevitable child and/or parent who cannot see a teacher as a human being with feelings but treats you like dirt with aggression and threats, and it gets really tough.

Could I keep going? Yes, I could... but I don't know how long for.

How do we measure worth?

Continuing my posts about leaving teaching... Yesterday I briefly touched on the issue of putting pressure on children and that is what I want to talk about today.

Many years ago, on a visit back home, I collected my brother and sister from school. My sister was very upset because her teacher, who had taught me twelve years previously, had compared her academic abilities to mine (and not in a particularly positive way). I remember being extremely angry with this teacher because she had failed to recognise the many talents that my sister had, that I didn't possess in any measure. My sister had the ability to make friends with many people, socialise, play nicely and show empathy with those who were struggling. These came naturally to her, whereas I had to really study them and experienced repeated failure. This teacher didn't take a peek into the future and see a 16 year old girl who could mop up poo and puke in a care home without gipping herself. She didn't recognise that one day she would be able to take an elderly dead body and clean it up, dress it nicely and in so doing, make somebody else's day of grief just a little more bearable.

This event shaped my thinking as a teacher immensely. I have always tried to see beyond the academic and value the whole child. And yet, a few months ago, I caught myself...

At our church there is a little girl who comes with her younger brother. Their family have no connection with the church. These children just come by themselves. I guess I relate to this a little as I also went to church from a very young age without any family member. I often sit and chat with these two as people come in early for a cuppa and a slice of toast. What stands out about this girl is the way she takes care of her brother. She tells me that mum is still in bed most Sunday mornings. She gets the pair of them ready for church, makes breakfast, etc. Occasionally, she also brings another child, much younger, because the child's mum has a baby and it's nice to give her a break. In so many ways, she is beyond her years. She deals with her brother and the other little one with humour and love.

I can't post pics of the kids but here's our worship group practising while we chat and eat toast.

Anyway, a while ago, this girl proudly told me she had done a maths test at school that week and got a level 3. I had no idea how old she was so I congratulated and praised her and then asked what year she was in. When she told me she was in year 6, my heart sank as I realised that she was a long way behind in her maths. Obviously I didn't communicate any of my thoughts to her but inside, I had labelled her as a failure.

As I replayed the conversation and my inward response many times in my thoughts, I became angry - first with myself but then with 'the system'. As I thought about other children in my own class, I could easily list kids who had amazing talents and personal characteristics that had little value because they were not academic. Worse still, I could see those who were living with the most challenging backgrounds and home lives, who really needed help but the main focus, even in trying to access help, was to eliminate barriers to their academic performance. I may be wrong, but I felt that the reason for helping these children was not to make their lives better or to help them become the kind of adults that can 'do life' and fit in to society but to achieve levels in English and maths.

I know that education is important, tremendously important, but surely being able to live is most important? My secondary school motto was 'Learning to Live' and I really appreciated the efforts taken there to prepare me for life, before churning out exam results. I don't feel that our education system still supports that. Sure there are individual teachers who do but it is all too easy to get sucked in and begin to judge children on their academic performance. Ofsted certainly pay no attention to individual children and their whole life situations.

I could go on strike, repeatedly, with little real effect but I've voted with my feet. I hope, following some extra study, to work in some other capacity within education. Maybe I'll be able do something productive with children who the system have let down. For now though, I need a break to learn more and reassemble my own thoughts.

Changes 1

I haven't posted for ages. I guess that is partly because I've been so busy but also because I didn't feel that I could say the things I've been thinking. Let's start with the end result - I've decided to stop teaching. I doubt that I'll actually stop teaching but stop teaching in school.

First, I must say that I have thoroughly enjoyed teaching at Northstead. It was my own primary school and whilst I had ups and downs there, I know that at least one teacher had such an impact on me that he changed the course of my life. When I was interviewed for the job there, I said I wanted to give something back to the school that gave me such a positive start, and I do feel that I've done that.

When we moved to Finland... and when we moved back, people asked us why. Sometimes it felt like I was giving everyone different answers but maybe that is because you don't ever make a massive life change for just one reason. It's a combination of many reasons, some bigger than others, that spurs you on to do something completely different. If I was to explain all the reasons right here and right now, I would stand a good chance of blocking up cyberspace completely, so today, I'll just talk about one thing. BTW, I'll intersperse it with pics of my leaving do.

I've been teaching Y6 and in England, that means SATs. Actually, I don't mind SATs. They have a useful purpose in letting kids and their teachers know what they have learned so far. What I don't like is putting children under immense pressure and judging them as people based on their academic ability. I'll come back to that another time.

We had an Ofsted inspection just after Christmas. It went pretty much as expected and the results are publicly available so I'm not breaking the official secrets act here. We came in the category once known as satisfactory but which has recently been changed to 'requires improvement'. The report did highlight areas of excellence in the school but even so, the effect of this judgement was really painful. In the aftermath, came an action plan to improve the school and a huge part of that was around monitoring. Book scrutinies became the norm and whilst all the feedback was fair and largely positive, it meant that all books had to be marked every day. I tended to mark English and maths books daily and the rest when the work needed it.

I decided to experiment for two weeks, marking everything to the required standard whilst not letting my work slip in any other area. It didn't work. I got to working 70 hours a week and was still slipping behind. Now, don't get me wrong, the school wouldn't have minded. The senior staff were actually very supportive. The thing is, the expectation by 'the system' is that teachers should be doing more and more. To do the job perfectly is impossible and the result is demoralised staff. This isn't the profession I entered. It's not the only reason but it's one reason why I didn't want to do it any more.

This is one area where Finland have really got it right. Teachers have a sensible working week and there is no prescribed way of marking work. It about trust and professionalism. I miss that!

Forge Valley

As we were driving home yesterday, we noticed a duckboarded area running alongside the River Derwent. Andy had just bought some new walking boots for his D of E expedition so we decided to walk there today. My dad had mentioned that he wanted to get more exercise so we invited my mum and dad too.

It was a lovely afternoon for a walk! I don't know how far it was because I got pushed some of the way but by the end, my step counter was showing 7000 steps.

Fresh air and exercise

What a wonderful day out! I love any opportunity to spend time with my brother Matt (or any of my siblings) and today we had planned to go out for a long walk down the beach and have lunch together. The only sad thing was that Andy couldn't join us, as he had a shift today.

We went down the cliff lift and then strolled or marched, depending on whether I was walking or riding, around the foreshore. It was so relaxing, just chatting and chilling together. We enjoyed fish and chips for lunch, before heading off around the Marine Drive.

The photo is one of those things you just have to do. You can't walk past this chap without stopping for a cuddle and a photo.

Having  walked all the way back through town, we descended back down to the beach and got the cliff lift back up to near my Mum's house, where we flopped in an exhausted heap. After all that fresh air and exercise, I can't stop yawning and feel sure of a good night's sleep.

Sunday afternoon drive

It's been a very pleasant weekend. Yesterday, we went down the beach and had a coffee and scone and a bit of a walk along the foreshore. Today, we've been for a drive over the moors. It was very pretty up there and we stopped in one of my favourite places for a walk but I'd forgotten how steep it was and I couldn't get down into the village. It was nice to stand at the top of the cliff and look up and down the coast.

I've succumbed!

It's no secret that I'm not a fan of Christmas. I know Christians are supposed to be all into the reason for the season but for a whole host of reasons, I just don't like Christmas.

Obviously at school I have to pretend to be into it for the kids. At home, mine are old enough to make their own decisions and I did ask whether they wanted to decorate the house but Josh didn't seem fussed either.

This afternoon, we had a lovely visit to Thornton-le-Dale and then went into Dalby Forest for a walk and a drive. That's when it happened...

Neil got all distracted by the real Christmas trees and suddenly wanted one. After discussions about pine needles in July, lack of space, etc, he pulled the line about making the house smell of Finland/forests and I fell for it.

Several hours later, with more pine needles in my hands than on the floor, it's up and decorated. I've failed in my Scroogism and will have to eat a double portion of bah humbugs.