December 2024

Eva Kyriacou Anastasi, is now an Education Consultant Trainer since January 2023. Prior to this she worked as an Assistant Vice-Principal at a primary school in North London.  At the time of writing this article, she had just made the difficult decision to resign (owing to burnout and anxiety) from her senior leadership and teaching post where she was responsible for teaching a Year 1 class, leading Early Reading across the school, as well as being the phase leader of Early Years. In this article, she provides an honest and raw reflection of the realistic struggles with well-being by practitioners, teachers and leaders prevalent across the teaching profession at the moment, humanising the statistics of the teaching crisis, most specifically the dire retention figures. 

It’s you, not me. I see that now. After almost nine years of giving you my absolute all, I can safely say I am done. I have nothing left to give. I am empty. I cannot put myself through this anymore, in mind, body or spirit. I am worth more than this, and dare I say it, I want more for myself. At some point over the years, I don’t know when; our relationship has become abusive. You have impacted my mental health, my physical health, made me feel isolated from friends and family and from the life I have built for myself. I don’t want that anymore. I have clung on to the highs – the children, the families, the ‘lightbulb’ moments with the children which are simply priceless. But you have become all consuming: the workload, the pressures, the unrealistic and unsustainable expectations, the emotional manipulation, the lack of trust and autonomy, the box ticking and the compassion fatigue has taken its toll and I feel that my body has had enough and simply said no, you will not put us through this anymore. You are not sustainable. Teaching, you have lost your way. You forget that you are not in the field of business, finance, property or assets. You are in the business of human beings, educating young hearts and minds. And what am I really helping you to teach them, the way that you are currently set up? After almost a decade with you, I leave demoralised and disheartened by what you have become, wondering if you were always like this, or if it is me who has changed as I grow older. 

Just know that it was never the children, and it was never the families, it is you … the system, for you are broken. I have had enough. Enough of the gaslighting, of the mental strain, and enough of trying. Time and time again. After four schools, three London boroughs and a number of different roles, ranginging from unqualified teacher to Senior Leadership, it is time to call it a day. I feel as though you have backed me into a corner, and my body has said enough is enough, I must quit and leave to save myself, despite no idea about what could be next. It is not because I don’t do enough yoga, or look after my nutrition enough, or don’t get eight hours of consistent sleep every night, or don’t use my time effectively or don’t know how to do my job, or any of the other endless excuses you throw my way. The onus is not on me. I am more than just efficient, I am good at my job. This is why you kept piling more and more on, knowing that my passion and genuine care for my work would mean that I just got on with it, without listening to my cries that it was too much and I would burn out. I know that I am good at my job and I don’t need that to be validated by you and your meaningless data, learning walks, book looks and deep dives to know this. The onus is on you. You are failing the people who care about you, who know what you can be and what you are needed to be by so many. All anyone really wants in life is to be seen, I mean really seen and heard. You are not seeing me, you are not seeing my colleagues and you are most definitely not seeing the children right now. You have lost your way. 

Just know that it was never the children, and it was never the families, it is you … the system, for you are broken. I have had enough. Enough of the gaslighting, of the mental strain, and enough of trying. Time and time again. After four schools, three London boroughs and a number of different roles, ranginging from unqualified teacher to Senior Leadership, it is time to call it a day. I feel as though you have backed me into a corner, and my body has said enough is enough, I must quit and leave to save myself, despite no idea about what could be next. It is not because I don’t do enough yoga, or look after my nutrition enough, or don’t get eight hours of consistent sleep every night, or don’t use my time effectively or don’t know how to do my job, or any of the other endless excuses you throw my way. The onus is not on me. I am more than just efficient, I am good at my job. This is why you kept piling more and more on, knowing that my passion and genuine care for my work would mean that I just got on with it, without listening to my cries that it was too much and I would burn out. I know that I am good at my job and I don’t need that to be validated by you and your meaningless data, learning walks, book looks and deep dives to know this. The onus is on you. You are failing the people who care about you, who know what you can be and what you are needed to be by so many. All anyone really wants in life is to be seen, I mean really seen and heard. You are not seeing me, you are not seeing my colleagues and you are most definitely not seeing the children right now. You have lost your way. 

In some ways, I am incomparable to the young, optimistic and naive trainee who you met almost nine years ago. I am now a cynical shell of a person, you have permeated and negatively impacted all aspects of my life. You have left me scarred and battered. I want to help mend you still, god knows the children, the families and the staff need you to be better. But I am not helping improve things by working within the system. My school environment was a toxic one, and even as a senior leader, I don’t have the capacity to do that either. To really help, I have to leave, as difficult and heartbreaking a decision as it is. It is the only way. My experience with you humanises the statistics. It is not in my head, I am not the only one. At some point, you have to acknowledge that it is not everyone else – it is you teaching. The annual Teacher Wellbeing Index 2022 from Education Support highlights that a staggering 84% of senior leaders describe themselves as stressed, with a further 54% of school staff considering leaving the profession between 2019-21. I am certain since publication, this figure has increased further. I hope that my letter to you humanises these figures and sparks real conversation about what is actually happening with you. I endeavour to shine a light in a hope to contribute to developing you and make you what you can be, and what we all need you to be, but not like this, not in a school with a toxic environment for its staff and not as a senior leader.

All this being said, I am grateful. I am grateful for it all. For the amount you have taught me about myself, how resilient I can be, how dedicated and committed I can be and how much I genuinely care about people and have to offer. I have learnt how to support families through their everyday struggles, I have learnt the importance of early reading, and the integral role of the early years. I have learnt about how significant the first five years of a child’s life are, how children’s innate curiosity, inquisitiveness and ability to live in the moment need to be harnessed and learnt from. I have learnt about the importance of representation, diversity, equity and equality. I have learnt about the role of critical thinking and sustained shared thinking. I have learnt how to present to different audiences, how to interact with different stakeholders and how to analyse data. I have learnt that relationships and how you make someone feel are arguably the most important things, the need to be reflective and adaptable, as well as the need to actively listen to people, to ensure children and adults feel genuinely seen, heard and supported. 

Nevertheless, I need to take some time to heal. The word ‘heal’ is used intentionally to address the trauma you are inflicting on teachers and staff. To those who don’t work in public education, this may sound dramatic, but I am sure that to most who do, it will resonate. Trauma is defined as either an experience which is especially upsetting, or a shock which is severe and may cause psychological damage. My experience with you teaching has been just this, a prolonged overall upsetting experience which has impacted my mental health significantly. So yes, I need to take time to heal now, to make sense of what I have just observed, witnessed and been a part of. But I know that I will come back stronger for it, equipped with the knowledge and understanding of just how broken you really are. So that when I am ready, healed and strong enough, I can be part of the solution, to contribute to working on your transformation into the British education system needed by the children, the families and staff up and down the country, in whatever capacity this might be. But for now, goodbye teaching. It’s you, not me. 

For Spring 1, I was really excited to use the teaching sequence I had come across for ‘Anna Hibiscus’ Song’ by Atinuke and Lauren Tobia in Literacy across both Reception classes. The teaching sequence and text fit in perfectly with our new topic ‘Cultures from around the world’, as well as our departmental and school priority of diversifying our curriculum and provision to represent our pupils in their teaching and learning. It has enabled us to take a significant step forward towards providing a curriculum in which our pupils see themselves, and one which consciously includes black children, their heritage, and culture. The teaching sequence provided an array of Literacy input sessions to hook children into the story in an engaging way, take them through the story and reflect on all they’d learnt. The extensive bank of cross-curricular continuous provision activities complemented this and extended the learning and interest of the children further. I have to admit to feeling a little apprehensive about how the teaching sequence would work once we had a blended learning provision, with the onset of online learning once again, with the January 2021 lockdown. However, I needn’t have worried, the activities needed little adapting, and feedback from parents, pupils and teaching staff alike has been overwhelmingly positive. 

The impact of the use of the teaching sequence has had a positive impact on both the teaching and learning in in-school literacy lessons, and the pupil outcomes in terms of the work produced across both Reception classes. The sequence ensured that we maximised and accounted for more cross-curricular links, both within the formal teaching sessions and the more open ended activities. As previously mentioned, our parents really embraced the activities, with some going as far as making their own tuff tray of related texts and resources. The children were encouraged to make links with the story, its characters and their own lives. Below you will find examples of this from children’s home learning; we used our sound buttons to record the different ways in which we can move (after actually moving of course), our favourite part of the story and what makes us feel happy. The central theme of the book; happiness coincidentally supported all our work around children’s mental health week and looking after their well-being in Lockdown 3.0. The listening sensory walk was a highlight for many children (and adults) – what a great mindful activity! 

Teachers have also commented on the marked improvement of independent writing prompted by the higher engagement levels in the general topic ‘Cultures from around the world’. After one of our pupils read part of the story, she decided she wanted to post Anna a letter! Other children were also keen to find out more about the other continents which they hadn’t learnt as much about, and explore their own personal cultural stories and histories. These excerpts demonstrate that not only did the teaching sequence have a marked impact on the children’s writing and motivation, but it also ensured there was greater diversity embedded within our curriculum offer, in a meaningful and non-tokenistic way. 

I hadn’t come across the CLPE until I started working at my current school, and boy am I glad I did! The quality of the training courses, speakers and texts used are unparalleled. I always leave sessions with a renewed sense of passion, enthusiasm and excitement to get stuck into the gap tasks. I have often been on courses, where only about 20% of the day is useful and engaging. However, the CLPE has a way of structuring the sessions, so there is a good balance of information relayed (always research-informed), key informative speakers, interaction from attendees and practical strategies to achieve the desired outcome. In addition to this, I think the genuine passion and teaching experience of the facilitators like Charlotte and Anjali contribute to the efficacy of the training. They are really relatable, well-informed and have a real understanding of the demands of working in schools in different year groups. Upon reflection, the courses always start with the bigger picture – i.e. how things currently are or what the problem is, then we look in more detail at why it is important and what we can do about it. This helps you leave each session with real practical activities to trial, and energised to contribute to improve the educational landscape in your own sphere of influence. 

The project I am currently involved in is entitled ‘Closing the Vocabulary Gap’, a project which strives to expand the vocabulary of pupils, develop their word comprehension skills and enhance their use of words in differing contexts. The project aims to marry up teacher subject knowledge and the home learning environment to improve the teaching quality and provision for Literacy in the Early Years. We started the course by looking at the bigger picture – what the landscape currently looks like and why communication and language development must be prioritised. This was all explored within the firm foundations of up to date research. We developed an appreciation for ‘why’ this is so important; namely, because acquisition of early language affects every single aspect of a child’s non-physical development. For many children, language is acquired unconsciously and without much effort, but for numerous others, this is not the case. For these children, whom I feel have been ‘disadvantaged’ by systemic under-resourcing, this is what is believed to contribute to the achievement gap which is disturbingly already in existence when children begin school and remains till they have left! Communication and language skills are so integral to succeeding in the world of education and employment, low levels of language have a strong relationship with children’s later life chances.

We then moved to look at ‘how’ – how can we work towards achieving this? High quality teaching and learning in Literacy in the Early Years is a given of course, but specifically this was broken down into exploring the importance of talk and story, song and rhyme, the use of texts and engaging continuous provision to enhance the play-based learning of children, and finally by ensuring that all children are exposed a to a range of high quality text types. In every session, we have had the opportunity to engage in depth with high-quality texts, partake in a variety of cross-curricular teaching approaches and even meet some key authors! All in all, I look forward to the sessions, and leave each one with a renewed appreciation for why this work is important and a firm understanding of the practical ways I can contribute to changing the narrative in my own small corner of the world. I am looking forward to completing the course over the Summer term and evaluating the positive impact it has had on all our pupils.