Pay Talks, Money for Overseas Teachers and Ofsted on Monday
The education secretary has turned down the teaching unions’ appeal to go for couples’ therapy.
Okay, so, strictly speaking, it was neither therapy nor for couples. The National Education Union, the NASUWT teachers’ union, the NAHT school leaders’ union and the Association of School and College Leaders – collectively the aggrieved spouse – on Monday proposed talks mediated by the Advisory, Conciliation and Arbitration Service.
But Gillian Keegan, playing the part of the emotionally unavailable spouse, sent back her refusal the same day. In a letter seen by Schools Week, the education secretary said, “I do not think it is the right step in our current situation.” She may or may not have added, “Why must you make everything into a drama?”
But let’s just imagine, shall we, that – in a bid to save their crumbling marriage, or at the very least agree shared custody of the dog – Keegan did in fact agree to see a couples’ therapist with the unions. What emotional baggage might the pair start hurling at one another, while the therapist looked on, impassive?
“You never show your appreciation for anything I do,” says the aggrieved spouse. “You never bring me flowers or tell me you love me.”
“Can you give an example of what you mean?” says the therapist, with studied neutrality.
Well, says the aggrieved spouse, Keegan turned down an invitation to speak at the Association for School and College Leaders’ conference. She had been invited to deliver a keynote speech on Friday this week, but said that she couldn’t attend, because she was hoping to be in pay talks with the NEU. No talks with the NEU were scheduled for Friday.
Geoff Barton, ASCL general secretary, said: “We very much hoped she would use this opportunity to thank school and college leaders for everything they are doing in what is proving to be yet another extremely challenging year.”
The therapist nods and says nothing.
“And,” says the aggrieved spouse, “you never look out for me – for my wellbeing, or think about how I might feel when your friends do things I don’t like.”
The therapist cocks her head to the side.
“You want an example?” says the aggrieved spouse. “How about this?” Ofsted has said that – in a departure from its usual working practices – it will start inspections on Monday next week. It has made this decision in order to carry out two-day inspections before the teachers’ strike next Wednesday.
Inspectors will contact schools on Friday, to inform them that they will be receiving a visit from Ofsted on Monday. Senior inspectors have expressed misgivings about this plan. And headteachers’ leaders have said that they are worried about the wellbeing of school leaders, who will spend all weekend feeling anxious about their forthcoming inspection.
Keegan looks put out. “I’m not responsible for what my friends do.”
“You see?” says the aggrieved spouse to the therapist. “She just won’t listen to what I’m saying. Sometimes I feel like she values everyone else more than me.”
The therapist looks to Keegan, and then back to the aggrieved spouse. “What makes you say that?”
The aggrieved spouse looks Keegan directly in the eye. “Well, where’s my 10 grand? Have you told her about that? You haven’t, have you?”
Keegan coughs. The government has said that it will offer physics and language teachers and trainee teachers a grant of £10,000 to relocate to England, as part of a pilot scheme launching this autumn.
The grant, which will not need to be repaid, is intended to help with visas and other relocation expenses. It will be available to teachers of modern and ancient languages.
The DfE has said that it estimates that the pilot scheme could support between 300 and 400 teachers and trainees – costing up to £4 million in its first year.
Geoff Barton of ASCL (let’s just think of him as Dustin Hoffman in Kramer vs Kramer, shall we?) said that the initiative “is obviously a sign of desperation from the government”.
Keegan has the decency to look sheepish for a moment, before bristling into defensiveness: “I’m not the one who’s desperate.”
“Ha,” says the aggrieved spouse, with more than a hint of sarcasm. “Ha. Ha. Ha.”
“I’m sensing some aggression here,” says the therapist.
“You think?” says the aggrieved spouse.
The therapist blinks, slowly. “What makes you feel that way?”
The aggrieved spouse sighs, ostentatiously. “Where do I even start? What about with the way she withholds money – even from the children?”
Multi-academy trusts running primary and secondary schools are increasingly being forced to divert funds towards younger pupils, in order to cope with funding shortages and falling rolls.
Per-pupil funding is higher for secondary pupils than for those at primary: every primary receives at least £4, 405 per pupil, compared with £5,715 at secondary. But birth rates are also falling, while the cost of keeping a primary classroom lit and warm has increased dramatically.
Trust leaders have said that some primaries would be at risk of closure, unless funds were pooled, and some secondary cash directed towards them.
The aggrieved spouse is on a roll now. “Or how about the way that she’s alienated me from all my friends?”
Again, Keegan bristles. “How? Tell me how exactly I’ve done that, please.”
The aggrieved spouse whips out a sheet of figures. On it is a graph, the line rising upwards at a vertiginous angle.
“Can you explain what we’re seeing?” says the therapist.
Yes, says the aggrieved spouse: it shows that secondary-school job vacancies have soared to their highest levels in at least six years, with no sign of slowing.
The number of jobs advertised between September 2022 and the end of February this year was 25 per cent higher than the same period, pre-pandemic, in 2019-20. In fact, the first 25 weeks of this academic year saw the highest number of secondary vacancies advertised on school websites since monitoring began, in 2017.
Analysts blame the drop on poor pay and conditions – a fact highlighted by the current round of national teacher strikes.
The therapist nods. “I’m sensing that there might be some control issues here,” she says. “Perhaps that might be something to explore next week?”
“I’m here to talk,” says Keegan. “I’m willing to talk. But who’s to say if they’ll even turn up next week? Go on, then – walk out. That’s all you ever do, isn’t it?”
The aggrieved spouse fixes the therapist with a direct stare. “Can you blame me? After everything I’ve just told you, can you blame me?”
The therapist meets the aggrieved spouse’s gaze, but says nothing. There is silence, apart from the sound of the clock ticking.
“Well,” says the therapist. “Our time is up. See you next week.”
Read more of Adi Bloom’s articles here.
