Leading an Independent School

If you’d suggested when I was at school, when I was training to be a teacher or in the early years of my career that I would at some stage move into the independent sector, I would never have believed you.  I was entirely state school educated, as was everyone I knew.  My parents had both left school at 14.  I was the first in my family to complete a degree.  I went on to a PGCE and taught in four state schools in the next 15 years.  Independent schools simply weren’t on the radar.

But when I was Head of Sixth Form I decided that I was ready to step up to be a deputy. We’d moved from one side of the country to the other when I took up that post, so weren’t ready to move again.  I looked for deputy headships in my local area.  I had an interview for a deputy headship in a state school – a girls’ school – which, if I’m honest, I thought I was going to get. They had just appointed the male deputy to be the head of the school. The school had never had a male head before, the incoming head hadn’t actually proved to be that strong as a deputy, and the community was still reeling. I was sure they would want to appoint a strong woman as the new deputy. The interview went well and I was feeling confident. They appointed another man.

The following week I had an interview for a deputy headship in a girls’ independent day school. I didn’t think I stood a chance. All the other candidates were already working in the sector. I felt out on a limb. But I liked the school, and the head, staff and governors I met. Completely against expectations, they chose me.

I loved it. I loved the autonomy, the freedom from DfE initiatives which might or might not be relevant to the individual school’s context. I didn’t miss Ofsted. I loved being able to make decisions which felt right for this particular school. I loved the ethos, the atmosphere and the focus on learning. I stayed there for five years and then went on to lead a similar school – another girls’ independent day school – for ten years. I never regretted the decision.

I fully understand that this is not what many teachers/leaders would choose, and I respect that. But if I’d never taught across the two sectors I’d never have understood how much binds us, rather than separates us. I’d never have realised how ‘normal’ independent school pupils can be, and the staff, and the parents. The pupils certainly weren’t all privileged and pampered. They needed strong teaching and good pastoral care as much as any state school pupil I’d ever met. If I hadn’t had this experience, I’d probably have taken my (false) assumptions, pre-conceptions and, dare I say, prejudices, to my grave. I learnt so much from all six schools I taught in, and my career was richer as a result.

And I found so much more joy in headship than I ever expected to.

Photo credit: John Berry. With former pupils at a school reunion.

This post was originally published on @staffrm in 2016