Diary of a head The greatest show on earth
Stuart Mcleod prepares to welcome the 2012 games to his school while grappling with his own Olympic-sized challenges
days left until the Olympics begin. However, the next number, four billion, blew the kids away. Yes, they knew the number (phew!) but weren’t sure if that was the number of sailors coming to our small island to compete in the Olympic and Paralympic Sailing events next year. Thankfully it represented the worldwide TV audience that is predicted to watch the greatest show on earth in 2012, and many of them will see our small school perched on the top of the cliffs overlooking the English Channel. The helicopter-borne media will flash by us but they will probably be oblivious to the Olympian efforts that will have already taken place long before they appeared. From April onwards I shall embark on the
T
tricky high beam version of Balance Your Budget. I’ve been practising this now for the past 16 years without improvement. No matter how hard I try the numbers, and staff, just fall away and I’m left each year straddled with the indelicacy of allegorically doing the splits via a redundancy package. Staffing costs increasingly put on the pounds and the agility to perform is outweighed by the elephantine deficit with the result that it’s not quite the medal winning performance we hope for but more the Eddie the Eagle of financial planning.
he screen in assembly displayed the number 483. Our guest speaker informed the children that this was the number of
Readers will recall previous diary entries
relating to our perennial seagull problem. Our wind turbine destroyed 14 birds in six months leaving the children being showered with herring gull entrails at playtimes. The turbine has now gone to another school along with the international press and media that surrounded us and the Turbinator jibes whenever greeted at headteacher briefings. However, the bird problem remains and presently we have about 40 pairs of them above us on the roof tiles bonking for Britain in the mixed doubles. These birds can give a gold medal rhythmical gymnastics performance in a Force 8 gale! My own personal wrestling competition
has equally begun as I battle the enormous heavyweight opponent in the shape of Giant Haystacks HM Govt over pensions. Will I be able to grapple with this oily multi-limbed creature and stay the course as I take on my own Sumo–size proportions through my mid- 50s, or should I simply chuck in the towel and retire gracefully to a sedate life with the train set? I admire my steely team mates who thrive despite frequent changes of education secretaries. The first one I encountered was “Macho Mark Carlisle”, a worthy opponent who was later replaced by “Big Daddy Sir Keith Joseph”, whose personal leadership style resembled squashing any hapless foe.
Our school’s long-lasting marathon event has
been to try to find some way of providing the kids with their entitlement to swimming. The nearest pool is miles away and has been costed out for parents at £8.35 for a half-hour lesson. Unsurprisingly, our parents haven’t shown a lot of support for this event and go to the municipal pool at weekends for a fraction of the price. Finding a suitable venue close to our school has been like a giant obstacle race, probably more like It’s A Knockout than the Olympics. There’s only one joker being played here and that’s me as I try to negotiate yet another pool. My final event is the high jump. This is what
we are told we’ll be in for if we don’t deliver on standards. Not too bad if you’re a lanky SATs waif but when you have all the grace and poise of an FFT brick it’s quite a challenge. Ofsted inspectors excel in this complicated event, which begins with making all headteacher entrants jump through a succession of hoops, selling their souls to the highest bidder and leaving some limping over the finishing line after 35 years of service with a condemnatory Barely Satisfactory medal. So, the greatest show on earth is on its way but
our own clock is ticking. The world’s eyes will be upon us for a few weeks. As for us, well, with all those helicopter paparazzi hovering above us potentially offering us free advertising I was sorely tempted to erect a large banner on the roof with a welcoming message a la prospectus but the seagulls would indelicately inform the world’s eyes just what they think of our school… guano!
sbmcleod@sky.com
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