Blue Skies Day

‘Busy day ahead?’ asks my wife, as I prepare to leave for work. ‘A big one,’ I announce proudly, for I’ve organised a complete day on strategic planning, doing what every good to great school leader is supposed to do. Leave the small problems to resolve themselves. I shall resist the urge to be out and about. Think vision: it’s a big picture day.

In my office the desk is cleared, the diary is appointments free - not a meeting in sight. My role is to reflect, to be a blue skies thinker. Outside my window there is only the Dartmoor sky to distract me.

I need to begin with my vision, explain the mission, articulate my aims, and state our values. Already it sounds like a Barack Obama speech. Then there are the self-evaluation forms to update, the priorities to list for the year ahead, the School Development Plan to write, the Performance Review and Training Schedule documents to include. Fortunately, I’ve already updated the specialist, training school and leading edge plans. Exhausted already I move from green tea to a large pot of coffee. The blue sky out there is turning grey.

Accidently, I press the wrong button on my computer and on the screen appear sixteen different live views of the site, all being digitally recorded. Video surveillance brings the school into my office like never before. As I watch, one of the toilets is visited by a suspicious youth, quickly followed by another. It’s only ten minutes since the start of the period. I can’t resist the urge to challenge, and I soon find myself over in the block, telling them to get back to class, taking their names and warning them that Maths is not to be missed. Remembering the recording, I return to the blue skies base.

Half way through the scribble that might become a priorities list, the phone goes and I’m asked to visit another boys’ toilet by our hardworking caretaker. This is a smart, motorway service level convenience with fittings that could be gold. It cost thousands to upgrade. Now it looks as if it’s been in a Bugsy Malone shoot out. Rolled up pellets of wet tissue stick to every surface, wall and ceiling. It’s definitely not a Jackson Pollock. A hand basin is full of a yellow liquid that tells me the offender either hates us or missed out on his potty training at an early age.
As the dedicated staff, going beyond the call of duty, prepare to clear the mess, I decide to play Inspector Lewis and hunt the culprits, using the new digital system. We go through the video and find the first to exit at around the time the loo was reported vandalised. The screen shot is emailed to the Sixth Form Centre and, within seconds, we have a name and soon confirmation that we have the correct time. It’s an innocent and totally reliable sixth form student. TV detectives never achieve results this quickly.

Speeding through the recordings we find the last students to go in who confirm all was well. Then we have our vandals - three year elevens who spent fifteen minutes in there - the last to come out before our sixth form witness. Now it’s just the interviews - more in sorrow than in anger. ‘Bring them in,’ I say, in my best Lewis voice.

They can’t explain why. Perhaps they really are just potty. Two caretakers have spent an hour restoring the room to normality. So all three toileteers agree to toil - twelve hours’ community service with the cleaners. Judgement passed, they are led away and parents informed.

However, it’s taken most of the afternoon and wrecked my blue skies day. I look again at the scribbled priorities. I cross out personalised learning, curriculum innovation and leading practice networks. Instead, I write in bold my first and only priority: extend security cameras to provide total coverage. It may not be visionary, but forget the blue skies - I’m on a real mission now.

Secrets of the Universe: Fifteen Hundred and Still Counting

After a long flight from South America, I find myself alone, cold and shivering in Europe again, waiting for a connecting flight in Lisbon at 6.00am. From 35 degrees to near zero and a cold wind whistling through the coffee-free and Wi-Fi unfriendly waste that called itself a transit lounge.



















The next day, and still jet lagged but protesting rude health, Judith Morgan (wisely) prevents me from attempting assembly. Nat Parnell is on top form with the remarkable statistic that teachers typically ‘enjoy’ 1,500 interactions every day. These are the live ones with students and he explains the need for them to be positive. Add in a similar number for emails and you can see why teachers never stop. Any other profession would be on a go slow but, strangely, we always think we are doing too little.

By Monday, though, the email system is down (no fault of the Thin Controller- some suspect internal sabotage) and we have a quiet day wondering what is building up in our out-of-reach in-boxes. But, of course, none of the staff can send emails or receive them so when the all clear comes and the bleeps return, it’s largely an anti-climax. We all wonder if an email-free day ought to be school policy- no email Friday, perhaps.

We try the electronic system to review budget papers at the Governors’ Meeting that night, rather than printing copies for everyone. It works well for text but we discover numbers are too tricky. With lights on or off, we are left squinting at rows of statistics that are too small to read. Back to the drawing board- literally the paper system. It’s my fault for trying to be too clever.

Science Week is here and from rockets to explosions, it’s all systems go. Phil Atherton proudly shows me his experiments in creating bio fuel. His group of lunch time scientists are busy boiling and stirring a yellow liquid that he tells me will fuel his car! And it will cost 12p a litre rather than £1.10. I can understand the economics and pretend to follow the Science. But the next day, my spies tell me the fuel has turned to jelly.

Then it’s on to Primary Body Language- an amazing array of dances and dancers from each of our link schools. They are colourful, energetic and great fun. Parents applaud enthusiastically and the children have a great introduction to their new secondary school. (These are the lucky ones- there are 54 on the waiting list for next year).

And whilst these performances are going on, in the Science labs (there are only eight instead of twelve so easy not to miss), Parent and Child Science Evening offers our students the chance to become teachers for the evening- with their parents as the pupils. Now how many interactions does that involve? It’s another very successful evening with a very tired team of Science teachers at the end of it who must have counted well beyond fifteen hundred that day. Perhaps the secret of the universe isn’t 42 after all!

Our Third Trust Board Meeting on Thursday reviews some great progress in research with Exeter University from Karl Husband (who is now a tutor there on Tuesday evenings) and from the Maths team- briefed from Yusof Othman. We have also made progress on our aspiration to take the school into the home electronically through our Capita partner.

The Specialist Schools and Academies Trust is planning a new national network of Trust partners. We’re delighted to be guests at the inaugural dinner in two weeks’ time and to be one of four schools invited to do a presentation. Our Capita partner will be represented- Brian Hodge, Trustee and Governor, and Phil Neal, Chief Executive of Capita Children’s Services.

By Friday, I’m realising how those 1,500 interactions can take their toll. And the week isn’t over at the end of the day. It’s back for the second night of an uplifting Body Language- over 200 students performing with live music for many pieces. With energy levels this high, they must be bio fuel injected. I’m reminded why so many of us enjoy working here and remain committed to South Dartmoor: the wonderful young people and the remarkable standards they achieve.
As we finish the evening, we’re told that some staff and students will be in all weekend for A level and GCSE practical examination preparation. Just describing it all is exhausting. But, however many interactions we have in an average week, it’s better than sitting shivering alone in an airport transit lounge. And more good news- the fuel is liquid again and it works! Science and Body Language Week end with bang.

Deep Learning to Change the World

Head teachers in the SLANT Project from the UK and Brazil

I was sorry to miss the first Deep Learning Day that my Deputy, Kate, and her teams have invested so much time in. My email sweeps are keeping me up to date with everything but there is no substitute for being there on the day. All I can offer is my own deep learning in this final Brazil blog.

I’ve learned that the Brazilians really value education- my kind of people then. One head asks me, in a moment of self doubt; ‘Do you really think we can change the world?’

‘No doubt about it,’ I tell her. ‘You already are.’ And it’s true. The projects in these schools on health education, particularly sexual health and on the environment are making a difference.
















Eight ways to change the world

In Recife, I’m told, there is a lot of violence. ‘What kind?’ I ask, innocently. ‘Well between twelve and fifteen murders a week.’ I gasp, making a mental note to avoid late night strolls on the beach.

But the school provides a safe haven for the youngsters, a place where they are given meals each day, cared for and taught. The senior and vocational school we visited today, despite the violence in the area, was inviting, purposeful, full of fun and warmth. The environment was attractive with plants and open areas- a rural feel within a very urban setting.

The project is much talked about over here. The wall posters and tea shirts have photos of our last visit, images everywhere. And we even made it onto national television on Saturday at lunchtime, following Globo TV interviews and recordings of our work the day before. I know, more TV appearances- but how could I say no?

I’ve learned that other countries value our educational thinking and that many of our ideas will transfer. The processes introduced in recent years in the UK and the South Dartmoor styles in particular are much admired. Our work on observation and teachers as learners is now getting the Brazilian make-over, ready for their visit over here in September.

I’ve seen again how impressive the human spirit can be in the face of poverty. We waited at three sets of red traffic lights yesterday and at each there were children, finding ways to earn money. At the first literally teams of youngsters with bottles of water and cloths began cleaning and polishing windscreens. But I didn’t see any money change hands as the lights turned green.

At the second set of lights, a young cyclist was clinging to the bendy bus in front, taking advantage of the free propulsion when it set off, as his bike was so laden with goods for sale. He didn’t let go.

At the third, a little boy emerged carrying a tray full of ripe tomatoes. He showed it to each car until one hooted and indicated he wanted to buy. But lights turned to green. Undaunted, the little boy raced across the road at the speed of the accelerating car to catch it on the other side, his face lit up with expectation of a sale. But the driver hooted again, waved his arms and drove off.

I’ve almost drunk from my last cocoa nut. It’s now my favourite drink. A new dessert today was made for us by the head teacher’s mother- manioc pudding with caramelised sugar on the top. And I quite like yams for breakfast.

The Brazilian sense of fun is what I like most. When I told a colleague that in England, on 29 February the woman can propose marriage to the man, his face broke into a broad smile as he began teasing the females in our group. ‘I’m expecting an offer,’ he said. My phone will be on till midnight.’

It’s been something of a campaign theme in the schools as we try to go below the surface and probe deeply. This project has huge expectations attached, both here and in South America as a whole. The British Council are doing a great job, though not helped by one of the UK heads having to leave in the middle because of OFSTED. You really would think that that organisation could show a little understanding and flexibility occasionally- or what about a dose of deep learning?

There are many ways to achieve deep learning and to change the world. I’ve been privileged to be a small contributor to one of them.

Second view from Brazil: Mr Ray, the Godfather, and his friend, Prince Charles

I’ve decided there is absolutely no reason to persevere with the Portuguese. It’s not just that I’ve already lost the tutor guide to the audio I bought. ‘In flight Portuguese: learn by the time you land’ was the promise on the tin. But they hadn’t counted on my language skills. When the aircraft landed I was still muddling my ‘obrigados’ with my ‘obrigadas’. The first is the male 'thank you’ and the second the female? So as I’m a male, do I use the male or female version when speaking to a female? More importantly, why do we make life so complicated for ourselves!

But the real reason is that I have two beautiful ladies to interpret everything for me, everywhere I go. And, of course, it means I’m looked after superbly well. I love it. So where’s the incentive? Would I really want to risk losing their wonderful company? I can’t think of a better reason for ignorance.

Except….something tells me I’m setting a bad example. Two other UK heads have already become quite proficient, one advanced, in the language. So I may need to copy them and book some intensive language tuition over here. No expense spared- I’m worth it. It reminds me how difficult languages are for some of us and what a great job language teachers do. The learner is so dependent. Three cheers at this point for the South Dartmoor language teachers.


Portuguese would be useful just to know what I’m eating. I’ve been introduced by my Brazilian hosts to a new dessert: ‘cartola’, which is a truly fantastic mix of fried banana covered in a local cheese and grilled with a mix of cinnamon and sugar. Sadly, because we don’t have an equivalent cheese in the UK, I won’t be able to make it. Manioc, a root vegetable is a delicious alternative to potato. Then there are the lovely juices: mango today and guava. I also had my first goat sausage-delicious.

The shocking news came through this morning that a school night watchman had been murdered by three youths, two of them students from the school and one of those a minor. Apparently, he’d refused to let them into school to take more drugs. They beat him to death by throwing stones at him. It’s not one of my schools, but the ministry official with us had to leave us to calm things at the school. Lynch mobs might be a possibility in revenge.


I’ve been to three schools this week. There are such warm welcomes. It’s really quite overwhelming. Autograph requests, for example. Many of the students just want to shake hands, practice saying hello or hug. One asks, perfectly innocently, how often I see Prince Charles. So if any South Dartmoor students are bothering to read this, let’s have a little more of this awe and respect when I get back.

The head teacher of one school tells me that every day she works from 7.30 am until 10.00 pm. She has to be there to supervise the three four hour shifts that all the schools run. The younger children come for the morning (with some older ones who are still re-taking!), the senior students in the afternoon and the adults or more senior ones who have to work during the day, in the evening. Rooms are intensely hot with fans whirring away. Yet a history lesson at 4.30 pm on a hot afternoon was keeping the forty children in the class occupied.
Large external posters send out the message ‘Eight Ways to Change the World.’ Each represents an ambitious project in health, environmental education, relationships, and literacy. These and newly tree-lined street- holes dug by the community, trees planted by the students- represent massive progress, even since I was here last.
They share plans and I try to be constructive in my suggestions. They are doing so much already that is beyond the call of duty. Such are teachers the world over. The staff in one of the schools spend an afternoon discussing ways to raise standards, improve their teaching and help the students. The evaluation sheets that the students fill out on their teachers would be controversial here but are natural and accepted in Brazil. The students score their teachers’ punctuality, for example, and satisfaction with the teaching they are receiving.
We see colourful and energetic cultural dances, watch a play, address assemblies and have regular breaks for Brazilian snacks. Photo opportunities abound and a record of the visit will be displayed.

I’m called back after taking assemblies and going in classrooms by a class about to graduate this year. Many hope to go into higher education and perhaps become teachers. They ask me to be their Godfather- quite an honour, I’m told. How could I refuse? I explained that I would probably not be able to make it for their graduation but would a video do? They seemed happy with the suggestion- meanwhile I must find out what other responsibilities I’ve taken on.


Walking on the beach at the end of Saturday, I’m shocked by the amount of litter left. How can we be so contemptuous of the beautiful beach. There are no seagulls to eat the food, but a team of red-coated litter pickers is moving along the sand to scoop up the debris. Dave Morgan and team- you are not alone.

In fact, the children keep their schools beautifully clean. As is so often the case, it’s the adults who are at fault. So what is the Portuguese for ‘Don’t leave that litter’ and dare I use it? Now where have my translators gone?