Headmaster, I'm Bipolar - "See ya!" (2005-2008)
After I finished University, this was the sort of thing I expected to do - but I took the first job I could find because I thought I'd better start paying off my Student Loans. I ended up working in local radio for six years before doing my PGCE Teaching Qualification in Durham.
When I was working with a class of 12-15 kids I felt like I could spend a decent amount of time with them. They weren't really 'lower ability' at all, some of them were just a bit shy or a bit naughty - and with a smaller group it was easier to manage those situations.
Working with a group of 30-32 was pretty much impossible - most of the time we didn't even have enough desks and chairs, let alone books for all of them.
Anyway - apart from the regular stresses and worries of the job, I was attacked by a pupil. It 'wasn't a serious assault' (as the local Police officer told me) but it did leave me incredibly shaken. What happened afterwards was even worse.
It all happened on a Friday afternoon at the school gates. Two members of staff were supposed to be on duty, but only one of us turned up.
The end of the week gate-duty was something nobody wanted and most people didn't bother. I knew I'd feel awful if there was a fight or a kid got hit by a car - so I always turned up and waited at the gates until everybody had gone. And 9 times out of 10 I was on my own.
I'd see staff (sometimes the ones who were supposed to be on duty with me) driving past as they left for the weekend.
Hundreds of kids and loads of parents saw what happened.
One of the Year 11 students decided started shouting and swearing. He told me that I couldn't do anything about it because it was 'out of school time' and he 'wasn't on school property'. He realised he was entertaining a whole bunch of younger kids with his show of bravado.
I could have gone back into school and written up an 'incident report' but I was the only member of staff on duty... What if there was a fight or an accident?
On the PGCE teacher traing course, our lecturers always told us to 'lower the temperature when dealing with challenging pupils', so I politely asked the sweary lad to go home. I even tried to make light of it, saying that the week was over and I was amazed that he still wanted to be at school... Why waste time in a place you don't like? Everything I said just seemed to make him angrier.
He kept telling me to 'fuck off', and he kept calling me a 'cunt'. I could hear a collective gasp from the other kids.
I didn't say anything after he swore. From that point on, I thought I'd try to ignore him.
So then he started spitting at me. He spat in my face and on my jacket. The sea of passing pupils reacted with a mixture of shock and delight.
The next few minutes went by in a blur.
I decided I had to go back into school. I'd been left on my own to deal with a crappy situation and I'd tried my best to deal with it. I figured I'd go into the school reception area. It was Friday afternoon. Would there be anybody about? Would anybody help?
The sweary kid tried to block my path. I told him to get out of my way.
Once again I was spat and sworn at... and then he pulled my glasses from my face.
The world became a swirl of colours and shapes so I grabbed my attacker by the arm and told him to give me my glasses back. He threw them to the ground and started punching me around the head. I don't honestly know how many times he hit me - but he started accusing me of assaulting him because I had hold of his arm.
Somehow I managed to find my glasses (flailing around like Velma on Scooby Doo) and I got myself back into school.
I felt remarkably calm - but as soon as I spoke to somebody I could hear the wobble in my voice.
I thought I'd better call the Police - but the school office staff said they couldn't let me do that without 'authorisation' from a member of the Leadership Team. Senior staff liked to sort out school disciplinary matters in-house, but this was more serious, wasn't it?
I was ushered into an empty office and told to write down what had just happened. That was the sort of thing we told pupils to do if they were involved in a fight. Everything just seemed unreal. I sat in silence, writing about swear words and spit - and wondering if the Police had been called.
This had to be taken more seriously than somebody forgetting their homework or blocking up a toilet, didn't it? This deserved more than a detention or a letter home. A lot of Head Teachers must think it 'looks bad' if there's a Police car on school grounds, so I ended up calling the Police on my mobile.
The Police Officer - when he eventually arrived - seemed slightly bemused by the whole situation. He didn't ask many questions, he just asked if he could take a photocopy of my written account. He said it would be difficult to do anything because my attacker was only 16, and it hadn't been a 'serious' assault. He said he'd have to contact the kids' parents and arrange a time for them to attend the local Police Station for an interview.
I'd had visions of the Police snapping into action, finding the kid and scaring the hell out of him by putting him in the back of a squad car. But no, he'd be invited down to the local cop shop at a time that was convenient for him and his family.
A member of the School Leadership Team came to see me before I went home. They made a few sympathetic noises but seemed confused about what had happened and why the Police were involved.
Over the weekend I got a few phone calls from colleagues. They were excitable and gossipy. I really didn't want to talk about any of it.
The story made it into the local newspapers and onto regional radio and TV bulletins. I hadn't spoken to anybody in the press. The media got their information directly from the Police.
The following Monday I was back at school. I knew if I stayed off then I might never go back.
I hoped the matter would be addressed in the Staff Briefing. Maybe the Head Teacher would reaffirm the 'zero tolerance' policy against abusive and violent behaviour at the school. Maybe he'd remind people about the importance of the gate duty roster and not to leave staff on their own at busy times. But no, he was more concerned about the media coverage. He told staff not to speak to the local press. He also said he was very disappointed because the newspaper and radio stories 'bore no relation to what actually happened'. How did he know what had 'actually' happened?
After the briefing I was summoned to the Head's office. Once again, his main concern was the press coverage. He told me to phone the local paper and give them a 'more positive spin' on the story. I said I couldn't do that because the Police were still waiting to interview my attacker. The Head was not happy.
Most pupils were sympathetic and amazed to see me back at school. I got a few snide comments about what happened, but I expected that from the kids.
My Head-of-Department was tickled because the local paper got my age wrong - but he also thought I'd be pleased because I was sharing the front page with Doctor Who.
And maybe a senior member of staff in my department was trying to be supportive when she said; 'something like this could really destroy your authority with the kids,' but I doubt it. I'd become a joke.
What should I have done?
Should I have hit the kid?
Is that was I was supposed to do?
Not reacting, not lashing out and contacting the 'authorities' was the right thing to do... wasn't it?
Surely hitting a kid would cost me my teaching career?
Well, as it turned out...
I couldn't cope. I found myself on a higher dose of anti-depressants and my G.P. told me to take some time off work. I didn't want to take time off - but I was starting to have panic attacks again - this time in the classroom. My employer was aware of my medical history and my previous diagnosis of anxiety and depression. I'd had to declare my medical history (and any meds I was prescribed) when I was first appointed.
The local authority had a team of mental health counsellors - and the school could have forwarded my name to them after the assault took place.
I never found out why that didn't happen.
The school's Occupational Health Doctor wanted me to have a phased return to work. He thought I should get used to being back in school for a few weeks and rediscover my confidence before undertaking any actual teaching. School Management didn't agree so I was in the classroom straight away. I didn't stand up for myself and I didn't push back. I've never been any good in situations like that.
The Occupational Health Doctor also recommended that I should never be asked to supervise 'challenging' students alone and that I should never be asked to undertake outdoor gate duty on my own. These recommendations were also ignored. In fact, when I returned to work I was given 6 hours a week supervising the 'remove room' - a classroom used solely for isolating disruptive pupils. And I was put on the duty roster to cover one of the busiest school entrances - with no support. Again, I could have pushed back against school management but I was just grateful to still have a job following so much sick leave.
My Teaching Union wasn't much help - they said it was right for the school to prioritise their 'operational needs' ahead of my individual situation. I was told that the headteacher was a member of the same union and that this was making it difficult for union staff to represent both of us. And the local Union rep didn't seem to have a clue about Mental Health matters - which is something I still find extraordinary. In his notes he described me as having a 'biopolar disease.'
I lasted about three months before my G.P. advised me to take some (more) time off.
My employer ran out of patience. I was told that other members of staff - some of them with serious illnesses - were making more of an effort than I was. There was a particularly grumpy meeting with a senior staff member who accused me of 'taking the piss' because I couldn't look him in the eye while he shouted at me. My Union rep just sat there as I tried to explain about my medication, my symptoms and my attempts to get well.
It was clear that I couldn't meet the terms of my contract so I had to accept that my employment would be terminated. And my Teaching Union supported it.
The school was 'in the right' and I'd let everybody down by not making more of an effort.
I was crushed. I still can't quite believe the way things happened. Nobody at the school, the local authority or the Teaching Union seemed to understand anything about mental illness. It was easier to get rid of me than address any of the issues raised by my situation.
In July 2009, the TES printed a story about Teachers suffering with Mental Health problems. It was a bit strange to see so many people with similar stories. And it was a relief - it wasn't just me...
You can read the whole thing here:
https://www.tes.com/news/headmaster-im-bi-polar
I've picked out the case study (about 'Paul') that really hit home for me.
"When Paul* (Name has been changed) first went off sick, his headteacher could hardly have been more solicitous. He was told to take as much time as he needed, and the head even turned up at Paul's house one day with flowers for his wife.
A few months later it was a different story. The school could not afford a passenger, Paul was told. On his return to work he was given an unenviable timetable. He says it was clear that the school wanted him out, and eventually he agreed to quit.
So what changed? Paul is in no doubt that the difference in the school's
attitude can be traced to the day he was diagnosed as bipolar, a
psychiatric disorder where the sufferer experiences elevated highs and
chronic lows. He still recalls the interview when he told his head he
was bipolar. "He said to me, `Is that a posh word for calling you a
schizo?'"
"His attitude towards me changed," says Paul. "At first he thought I'd had some kind of breakdown that I would get better from, but when he found out it was more long-term, he didn't know how to deal with it. I don't know whether he thought I was going to come in one day and kill lots of kids or if I was going to be off work even more, but he just didn't want to know."
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