We’d got our schools funding and our pay to a good point. It wasn’t perfect but I think everyone was fairly happy with what they earnt and recognised that money was going into rebuilding schools so they would be fit to learn and work in for the coming generation.
Then there was a financial meltdown. Yes, the 2008 banking crash was complex, but at heart, as with all financial meltdowns, it was about greedy people thinking they didn’t have enough.
But we are all reasonable people so we recognised that maybe for a couple of years schools wouldn’t be the priority.
Then there was a change of government. Austerity was their mantra. And as reasonable people we recognised their mandate, thin as it was, and just carried on doing what we love, teaching children.
Then came the referendum and all the upheaval that ensued. Schools were starting to suffer. The buildings were crumbling. Teachers were becoming harder to find. More were leaving, worn down by the extra workload caused by the defunding of local services which previously supported the children we teach. At this time it was hard to even be heard. But we are reasonable people. We carried on, teaching the children.
Then came the pandemic. We kept the schools open for those that needed it. We taught online for those that couldn’t come in. We tested, we vaccinated. We comforted those that lost loved ones. And, in the limited way allowed, we buried our own dead.
Yet we were traduced. We were blamed. We were lied about. And, though there have been many of them to choose from in the past couple of years, not one education minister stood between us and those that attacked us. Too often they led them. Egged them on. Fed the hate.
Still we remained reasonable.
We’re told now the pandemic is over. OFSTED tell us not to mention it. So we don’t mention it to the kids who are still absent. We don’t mention it to those who can’t settle in a class. We don’t mention it to those finding learning harder than before. We certainly don’t mention it to those who’ve lost loved ones.
We were told of schools, occupied schools, in danger of collapse. That our colleagues have to continue working in. We’re told 40% of schools have buckets to catch the drips from the leaking roofs. Not one penny was spent improving the ventilation and air quality in the rooms we work with children. There is plenty of jam for tomorrow but no bricks for today.
Yet we remained reasonable. Understanding. Listening.
Finally in the face of the worst cost of living crisis for many generations we’re offered a pay cut. Another pay cut. Another insult. Another bucket to collect the rain drops.
Yet still we teach. Still we remain reasonable. I don’t want this avowedly unionist government to pay me more than my Welsh or Scots colleagues. I want their deal. I don’t want my pay to go up more than my colleagues in the health service. I want their deal.
In the face of everything that’s gone before, I’ll remain reasonable.
Just don’t mistake it for weakness.
Distant Ramblings on the Horizon 