Why striking is hitting me where it hurts

Today I am striking.  I am not going into school and I am sitting at home, writing this and contemplating catching up on my marking.

According to the NUT; these are the reasons we are striking;

• Excessive workload and bureaucracy
• Performance related pay
• Unfair pension changes
• http://www.teachers.org.uk/campaigns/protect-teachers

I love my job.  I love my school. I love (most of) the children I teach and I am absolutely committed to getting them the grades that they deserve.  The issues about which I am striking are preventing me from doing my job. The job I love.  Anecdotally, many teachers at my school have told me that today they are striking when they didn't last time because they have so much work to catch up on. No, really.  The irony is not lost.

Do we have too much work?  I am part time and am seriously contemplating reducing my hours next year so I have time to do my job.  Each additional class I take on involves not only the 4 hours a week, but the 4 hours or so preparation time for those lessons, the additional 4 hours or so marking, an additional parents' evening, another set of reports and so on.  At the moment I can just about get my own children in bed by about 8 pm, after which I return downstairs to wash up, make sandwiches, clean the kitchen and settle down to work at about 9 pm.  I work on the evenings I work, the evenings on the days before I work, holidays, Sundays and a few Saturdays and Fridays.  I can usually finish by midnight.  That's not so bad.  But my children are getting older and Max only finishes cubs at 8:30; what do I do then?  

I'm part time btw.  I mentioned that.  

Does this excessive workload mean that we don't do a good job?  Not really, because each one of those hours, those books, to us represents an individual student.  At half midnight, when we have just 3 books left to mark, having put the scruffiest one to the bottom of the pile, then the most hard-working one, then one-most-likely-to-be-absent; we can't bear the look on the face of little Leonie who asks plaintively; "Why haven't you marked my book Miss?"  Anyway, so much of what we do depends on giving the students the opportunity to respond to our marking and set themselves targets based on that, that marking is often only the start of the lesson planning.  So tonight it's a 1am finish.  

So what about Performance Related Pay?  Should we get paid for what we do?  What we achieve for the students?  What they achieve for us?  What about my friend Linda?  Every year she took the bottom set, we offered to swap, she didn't have to do it, but she was good with them.  Almost all demotivated boys, or girls that could hardly string a sentence together.  The option subjects couldn't cope. They were a health and safety risk for science.  Mitchell would have been banned from PE after the javelin incident.  The German teacher would refuse to teach Shayne after the "sandwich" incident.  But they had to do English, and on the days when they weren't in some kind of  Pupil Referral Unit, anger management course or bricklaying day at college, Linda dragged each of them through persuasive letter writing in some kind of vocational course; before they were forbidden; so each of these boys left school with something, a real life qualification or GCSE grade G.

Would Linda pass her Performance Management?  Before Callum threatened his sister with a kitchen knife, he was targeted a C grade based on his year 6 SATS level.  That target stands.  That's what most of his peer group would get, if they weren't in care.  So who wants to teach that group now?  

And when they fail Linda, put her on capability and get her out quick, because she's a bit expensive, you could get a young, inexperienced teacher in to teach that group at half the price.  And when that teacher goes off long term sick with stress, you can always get a non-qualified teacher in on instructor's rates because you can't afford a proper teacher and that group, well they're not worth it are they?  

And breathe.  

I love my job. I want to do it well. I love being a parent. I would quite like the time to do that well, too.  I want my children to matter as much to their teachers as my students matter to me.  And since some of them are your children, or soon likely to be, I hope you understand the reason why I am striking.  

It's all my fault

Dan is slightly less depressed, aggressive and neurotic.  He has left work.  The consequences of this include me becoming increasingly more depressed, anxious and neurotic.

To celebrate, he went out drinking last weekend.  All last weekend.  From Friday night to Monday morning.  And although he has been slightly home this weekend, there is a fairly similar pattern of behaviour.

I cancelled our celebration dinner on Sunday night after I came home after swimming on Sunday morning with the three children who hadn't seen him since Friday afternoon to find him (I thought) having a bath and a coffee to sober up.  I was wrong, he was merely brushing his teeth before going back to the pub for the rest of the afternoon.

I am incredibly cross, I am so cross I nearly rang my mother-in-law.  I have no idea what good that would have done, he hasn't done what she has said since 1982.  I had a bit of a whinge to my latte friends in the week and they all said the same thing; don't put up with it, don't know how you stand it, my (insert status here) wouldn't get away with that.

I really do not know what that means.  I don't know what my alternative is, I don't deal with conflict well and have never had much success with arguing in general.  And I have realised it is all my fault.I have cause this entire situation and I suspect I am not the only one.

This is because I, like many women, cope.  We get on with it.  We manage.  Husband tells you he's left his job?  You cope.  Life-threatening illness?  Move on.  Run out of money on the 10th of the month?  Feed a family of 5 on a £10 Sainsbury's voucher you earned from a survey website.  My husband is a competent, sensible, intelligent man and is perfectly capable of managing the family in the event of my death but he doesn't need to.  I have encouraged and supported that ... well that lack of support.

How did it happen?  I didn't mean it to, I am not sure how I got here and I am not sure how to get out of it.  What would he do if I just didn't come back from the pub on a Friday night instead of being back at ten prompt to pay the babysitter and do the ironing?  He will never know.  It will never happen.  He can stay out all day because he knows our children will be dressed, fed, delivered to ballet, parties, school.  Their home work will be supervised and their lunch will be made.  Their sheets will be clean, their beds will be made, their school uniform will be ironed, named and in their drawer ready.  For that matter, so will his.

I'm too competent.  I am brilliant.  I am supermum.  It's all my fault.

Verity Lambert may be my new hero.

It's bad enough a grown man being still obsessed with Doctor Who.  But a grown woman?  I'm not the only one.  I'm not really obsessed.  I can't quite work out why it's almost ok, whereas I would mercilessly mock my male friends for their Star Wars / Star Trek interest.  (I spent long enough with my male cousins and male best friends to develop a working knowledge which secured my ability to date as many geeks as I liked - and I did like.)

So I have spent a week watching Doctor Who warm up programmes, all in preparation for "The Day of the Doctor" tomorrow - 50 years of a television programme for goodness sake, although as I am always telling my students; that is a very high proportion of the history of the medium.

I think Dr. Who had an acceptable appeal to women even before the "eye candy" days of David Tennant (or for me- Christopher Eccleston.)  Having watched a particularly well-done drama- last night, brilliantly acted by Filch from the Harry Potter films - David Bradley "An Adventure in Space and Time", I was very drawn to Verity Lambert who became a very young and very female producer of the new Doctor Who programme.  Maybe it was her influence, or Waris Hussein or Peter Bryant that developed the character as a maverick with a strong political message but that slightly rebelled against authority and the status quo.

There may never be a female doctor, I don't know if I would welcome it or not.  The predominantly female companions have been presented as strong, wife-like in some cases and perhaps unfortunately, increasingly glamorous.  They may have been screaming banshees (Peri)  from time to time, and occasionally wore far too few clothes for any decent feminist to approve of (Leela) but there were some powerful companions. I got Sophie Aldred's autograph.  She inspired me.  Lately they have even been quite heroic themselves. Donna and Clara have pretty much saved the Doctor.  At least the old ones never snogged the Doctor though. And in some cases it would have been down right inappropriate.  The more recent Doctors have been closer to their companions' ages, it's been less disturbing but it creates a different dynamic.

Now the Doctor seems to need his companions to give him some humanity or to teach and educate him.  It is a partnership of almost equals.  The burden of being a Time-Lord is not an easy one and seems to come with few of the benefits of a super hero.  And just recently River Song has brought a powerful breath of fresh air; someone who knows more than the Doctor; turns up, calls everyone sweetie, is strong, sexy and (hooray) older.  The new Doctor is not threatening to his female companions or audience in the same way that he is not threatening to pale teenage boys.  He is not strong and heroic, he runs away.  And thinks. About science.  Captain Jack loves him.  And as I am just watching (right now!) my other heroine Caitlin Moran claim that Russell T. Davies was partly responsible for the legalisation of gay marriage. A girl can trust him when she's alone in the TARDIS.

I am partially refusing to feel guilty about being so excited about tomorrow.  Well done Doctor Who.  I think you may have made it ok for women to like sci-fi and even feminists may find some very positive role models in a programme suitable for young girls.

There is a light.

Last night, a woman died.  A lovely, lovely woman who has two young children at primary school with my children.

The playground after school was a sombre affair.  Standing, waiting, I watched as mother after mother approached a friend and gently touched her arm.  I watched as the mother smiled a hello then within a minute her hand would be snatched to her open mouth and her eyes filled with tears.  And all of us, all of us then wrapped our children up in our arms and buried our wet cheeks into their shoulders so that they would see our smiles by the time we put them down.

The closest friends wept openly or wore sunglasses but the rest of us who were passing acquaintances, or like me, had had a few lively nights out hid our emotions, not wishing to seem like hangers on.  It leaves all of us terrified by our mortality, wondering how on earth our husbands would get our children to school, or brush their hair.  Do any of them know what time swimming lessons are?  Or ballet?  Would they eat fruit again?

Dan and I hugged for an hour when we got home.  However bad our life seems now we have another day together, with our children tomorrow.  We are the luckiest people in the world.

Good night.  Sleep tight.

Don't get drunk at the school disco

Tonight I watched my daughter walk home from a big night out.  She was staggering down the street in front of me, swigging from a bottle in knee high boots and a skirt so short it almost made her dad cry.  Her tights were abandoned,as she was "Too warm" and she was giggling and shrieking with the thrills of the night.

She is 5.  It was her first school family disco.  Family in this case being me, Max, Rex and her.  Even the thought of it was all too much for Daddy, after a week that has included Ofsted and the Playstation crashing.
I wasn't the only one, although there was a very impressive turn out of enthusiastic fathers huddled in corners or checking their phones at table, there were many mummies like me, quietly nursing a plastic cup full of wine and being upstaged by the Omnimothers of the PTA simultaneously showing the girls how to do the Macarena, cleaning up Fruit Shoot spills and serving hot dogs and penny sweets.

It was marvellous, actually.  Fascinating to watch the children having such a fantastic time with so little self-consciousness.  Maybe it's because we live somewhere fairly quiet, but there was also a pleasing lack of mini-mileys, which, innocent or not, I always find a bit disturbing on MBFGypsy Wedding.

I even managed to resist the temptation to stop her dancing to Thicke.  Can't promise I'll be doing that again.

I must have another few years of that before the first scene becomes more sinister.  Ten?  Eight maybe?  I'm going to make sure I go to every school disco from now on.

G - too much T and A

I may have reached rock bottom.  I needed to pay a cheque into the bank today.  I couldn't afford the stamp to post it, or the petrol to drive there.

I then the spent the evening watching Dan apparently shagging some skanky tart.  Of course it wasn't really him, it was his nasty little character on a rather violent computer game.  Still, all a bit weird don't you think? And is it offensive for me to call a computer image either skanky or a tart? It also helps to make sense of the complete lack of empathy my year 10 boys feel towards Curley's wife.  "Well, she's a ho Miss.  A slapper.  A tart.  She deserves it.  She shouldn't be playing around."

I know, it seems very wrong to blame video games for violent attitudes.  I don't believe that.  Fundamentally violence has been around as long as...well...survival, surely.  That makes sense.  And I know there will always those people who use "Catcher in the Rye" or "Natural Born Killers" as the inspiration for some horrendous crime.  That does not represent the majority of the people.

But I feel very uncomfortable watching those games, the average 35 year old gamer using these extreme games to escape from the daily grind, the responsibility of life.  The average 15 year old who is playing these 18-rated game has nothing to escape from.  They already have no responsibility.  Their attitude to crime, to women, to life is formed partly by what is represented from these games.

It is not merely the scantily clad women, designed by men who rarely come into contact with real women in real life, it is also the lack of any positive representations of women.  I saw one woman in a low cut suit and glasses demonstrating that women can be clever too, boys.  I could go on about the one black character I saw committing a range of violent crime.

I'm going to complain.  To someone.  I'm not sure who.  As soon as I've finished ironing this shirt.

I don't want to be an MP.

I heard someone on Woman's Hour http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b007qlvb  today assert a statistic about female politicians in the UK.  I have just tried to look it up but all I could find was a figure implying that between 1977 and 1986; 40% of women MPS had children.  (Women and Politics Worldwide ed Barbara J Nelson).

Obviously this discussion was taking place against the background of the cabinet and shadow cabinet re shuffles last night and this morning.  The suggestion seems to be that young women / women with children are under represented, and that those discussing issues that may affect them are inexperienced in the areas that could be siginificant, for example - childcare; although some of us would like to think that there is more to our lives than this.  (They are, of course, wrong.)

How could we get more women into politics?  Louise Bagshawe couldn't handle it, and although Cherie and Samantha, Sarah and Miriam seem to have coped, I imagine they had some help.  I am interested in politics but the way parliament is run seems ludicrous.  The hours worked are ridiculous, the London-centric focus impractical and the demands that I imagine are made on these people impossible.

Depressed, Anxious and Neurotic husband arrived back by 7 0 clock this evening.  We were late eating dinner, so we still ate together although it then took 2  hours to get the children into bed and since the dishwasher is broken, I did not leave the kitchen until 10:30pm.  Seven doesn't seem unreasonable although Dan's father still cannot understand why he doesn't pick up the phone at 3:35 since "He only works til 3 doesn't he?"

A few years ago I tried to finish my work at school before I left for home.  They kicked you out at 6 but it was usually possible.  I have single/childless/married to normal people friends who still do the same.  Nowadays I leave with the school buses - more or less - in order to race back and collect my children from the childminder's before I have to pay another £15.  After all I work a 0.75 timetable so I only have to work 75% of the evenings right?  That is also possible.  (Take note Mr Gove; if you're going to penalise me for racing out of the gate at 3:40 you can weigh the bag I carry home.)

In other words, there are other ways to work.  It isn't about tweaking things to make it possible for young mums to  "fit in" to the pre-existing system.  There may be a better way to do it.  Even the Daily Mail admits that "The poll also found that 55 per cent of the teachers quizzed said they regularly did 56 hours a week during term time - and even taking account of ‘holiday time’, the average amount of hours teachers do each week is 48.3."
 http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2159173/70-teachers-nighter-prepare-lessons-according-survey-teaching-magazine-concludes-hours-rest-us.html
And when you hear about the hours that those young city boys and girls work, moving straight from the office to the bar and back to the office to make high-pressured decisions, it does seem that something is wrong.

That does not support family time or mothers or children and explains why women are often faced with very difficult choices when it comes to employment.  What I can't figure out is why men are not faced with those same choices.

As far as I can tell, it is no more acceptable for fathers to be working those hours either.  We shouldn't be changing the system to be supporting women, we should be changing this system to support families.  Women can't compete with their male counterparts working silly hours to suggest it is necessary to do so.

I don't think that as women, or feminists, we should be asking for better childcare provision for our jobs, we should be expecting anyone who has children to put the hours in at home.

Until our expectations of men  improve, we can't expect equality of opportunity, or expect comprehensive representation in parliament.