That was the year that was: March 2007

In March a lunar eclipse occurs. I make a total arse of myself by telling Mr TLC about a previous eclipse and how I bought special film (it was a long time ago), borrowed a tripod, blah, blah, blah, before falling asleep and missing the eclipse altogether. Mr TLC suggests I photograph this one. Whilst I turn into a photography bore (not that I am actually much of photographer) and waffle on about exposure times and the general lack of suitability of my current camera, he sticks his mobile phone out of the window and takes a pretty good picture. Bugger, I feel stupid.

The news this month is dominated by much talk about slavery and apologies, or the lack of them.

My school receives the splendid news that the good ladies and gentlemen of Ofsted have invited themselves to visit us. The school is thrown open for the weekend to enable us to prepare. I scoff at the very thought. Of course I end up being there all day on Saturday.

Having been at four different schools over the last 14 years, this will be my fourth inspection. I am totally confident that it will be as inaccurate as all the others have been; how can such a brief snapshot possibly capture an accurate image of a dynamic and complex community? I also suspect that the report, based upon our published results, will have been largely written (or at least planned) before the inspectors arrive. I know I work at a good school and that I work with a lot of talented and dedicated teachers. Why worry? Unsurprisingly, stressed colleagues don’t share this view.

Of course it was fine, there were no nasty surprises and we all breathed a sigh of relief once it was over. After Ofsted leave everyone is knackered and I notice that several colleagues appear to be suffering from some kind of post traumatic stress. Never mind, it’s nearly the holidays.

“We’ve put you down for the sponges Miss.”
“What sponges?”
“It’s for Comic Relief.”
“WHAT SPONGES?”
“We’re throwing wet sponges at the teachers. At break. We said you’d do it.”
Sometimes I love my form group. Sometimes they make me feel so proud. This wasn’t one of those times.
“It’s pouring with rain, I have a stinking cold and I do not have any spare clothes to change into.”
“Does that mean no?”
“Yes.”