What is teacher wellbeing, and how do we know that our understanding of it is right? Kaley Riley explores further
CREDIT: This is an edited version of an article that originally appeared on We Are In Beta
At the time the word ‘wellbeing’ became utilised frequently in education, I was working in a school where a full English breakfast was served to the teaching staff by SLT on every inset, where donuts and sweet treats were delivered to departments regularly, to cheer us up, and where I socialised with my colleagues who were – more than anything- my friends. As far as I was aware, my wellbeing was great because it seemed that ‘the people at the top’ really did care. And they did, but was that the best focus on this ‘buzzword’ as we now hear it frequently being referred to?
Fast forward a few years, and it was time for me to move on from the school that put me through administrative officer to QTS, the place that I called home, the place I saw as my home–from-home. With a broken heart, I left this workplace that I so adored to take a step up as HoD within a trust whose vision I wholeheartedly believed in, in a school which – on first glance – seemed remarkably similar to the school I was leaving.
At interview, on the induction day, and even within the first few weeks, I was convinced that I had made the right decision. Yes, my timetable seemed pretty heavy, but perhaps my old school was just a little more generous? When, in my first week as a member of staff, I was offered a further leadership role as head of house, alongside head of department, I leapt at the chance.
Little did I know that this was a sign of things to come, and that soon I would realise the importance of saying ‘No’, of not allowing my goodwill to be taken advantage of, and for the need to be the voice of my team whose wellbeing was my responsibility.
Donuts at lunch, teabags to help yourself to, and a ‘wellbeing calendar’ in which yoga and hula-hooping classes were not compulsory – but which you were frowned upon for not attending – are all well and good. But they are not improving to wellbeing.
If workload, and expectations from staff, are unreasonable to near breaking point for many, a custard donut is not going to cut it, and a hula-hoop lesson after school – when that hour could be spent completing the excessive workload that has been piled on – is most certainly going to be detrimental to wellbeing, rather than beneficial.
So why are so many school leaders getting it so wrong?
‘Wellbeing’ is a buzzword that has been quietly humming in the background for some time. It started to really become noticeable, however, when the new Ofsted framework specifically mentioned the importance of wellbeing, in response to the retention crisis that we have witnessed over the last decade (and beyond, if we are actually honest with ourselves). Suddenly, people were accountable for staff wellbeing and, as a result, a number of SLTs across the country started to panic.
However, staff wellbeing is not about the short-term fixes – be that via sugar, alcohol, physical exercise or whatever other gimmick an SLT comes up with. It’s about workload. It’s about autonomy. It’s about having a voice, and that voice being respected by like-minded professionals. It’s about trust.
Cake, Christmas carols, and coffee in the staff room are not going to support a school in retaining staff. What will support staff retention is all of the things listed above; reduced workload, autonomy, respect, trust.
Schools must stop paying lip service to ‘wellbeing’ simply because Ofsted expects us to be able to have a clear focus on it. We are not protecting staff wellbeing for Ofsted; we are protecting staff wellbeing, and being concerned with improving it, because we have a national crisis; 9% of teachers left the profession in 2017, and this figure is rising.
Staff must stop accepting that a school’s approach to behaviour, and the lack of support with such, is fixed with a free sandwich, or the opportunity to partake in hula-hooping or pub meetings. We must stop being fooled into thinking that leadership care for our wellbeing because they are buying and providing ‘treats’ – we are not Labradors.
We must demand professional development over pastries. We must insist on receiving support with the poorly-behaved students who stop us doing the very thing that we are paid to do- teach- rather than a free sausage cob on an inset day. We must command respect for our profession, and our position as experts in our subject fields, (and demand the time needed to fulfil this role well), over time after school spinning a hula-hoop around our hips for a giggle.
As leaders, we must understand the importance for our teams of feeling that they are listened to, taken seriously, and consulted. It is absolutely imperative that we provide the relevant level of professional development to allow teachers to feel fulfilled in their roles. We must advocate for the needs of our staff. We must show ourselves as fallible and compassionate peers, whose role it is to empathise, ethically lead a team of people, and empower the team by doing so.
It’s time to stop paying lip service to wellbeing. It’s time to begin to take it seriously.
Nothing in education works ‘for Ofsted’; they are a monitoring agency. Everything that we do, we do for the children in our care, from 8.45-3.20. Feeding teachers donuts is going to make zero difference to students in need; ‘feeding’ teachers support and trust is going to make every difference to every student.
As Kat Howard says in her wonderful title, we need to ‘Stop Talking about Wellbeing’ and, instead, we need to now embrace our role in ensuring that wellbeing is not a topic which is only focused on because of its newfound place in DfE guidance and the Ofsted framework, but one that sits at the heart of every element of our schools.
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