School conversations have been dominated by one word: Ofsted. And what a range of feelings that word evokes. As a former headteacher who continues to work with school leaders, my feelings are complex.
I believe it is right that anyone in a public sector position is held to account. For those of us in schools, this means proper scrutiny, not only over the standard of education provided but also how we keep young people safe in our care. We need a body such as Ofsted to do this work and to challenge us when provision is not as good as it can be. But I question whether the current inspection model ensures that happens in an appropriate way.
The two days of an Ofsted inspection are fuelled by adrenaline, caffeine and only a few hours sleep. Conversations with inspectors the day before they arrive give a good indication of how the process will go: they have already done a desktop evaluation of your school, and looking up inspectors’ biographies online means you know who you are up against.
The inspections can feel like a clinical process of intensive information gathering – but one in which you need your wits about you to keep making your case when you feel unfair judgments are being formed.
But worse than the inspections, is the time between inspections. A colleague describes it as “a form of prolonged torture waiting for public trial and execution”. Horror stories spread like wildfire among headteachers, local authorities and trusts desperate to avoid the pitfalls that have caught out others. And why wouldn’t they? The framework by which schools are judged is far from perfect, so you would be foolish not to go into battle well armed.
The result of an inspection is a detailed report but if we are honest, all that matters to the community is the summarising grade. A single judgment: outstanding, good, requires improvement or inadequate – all to describe something so complex.
Regardless of which word is awarded, it is a burden for every headteacher. If the word is negative, you are publicly humiliated and could lose your job. There is also the devastating impact on your school community – a downward spiral of pupils and staff leaving that is difficult to reverse. If it is positive, outstanding even, that is great for now. But woe betide the grade dropping on your watch.
I can understand why headteachers I know would miss funerals and ignore their own medical emergencies to be in their school on inspection day – it is not an experience to delegate. Part of your job as head is to be the shield that enables teachers to get on with theirs. That means putting on a brave public face and dismissing any worries about inspection, while working under intolerable pressure.
Right now, the challenges facing school leaders are enormous. They need supportive words and they also need challenge – but not punitive judgments.
Ruth Luzmore is a former headteacher of a primary school in London
