The phone rings at 9.50am on a Monday. My heart rate is immediately raised. Yes, it’s Ofsted for a graded inspection starting the following day.
I have been through many inspections before but this one feels different. The death of Ruth Perry and all the noise in the system about bullying inspectors and cliff-edge judgments have changed the narrative.
I speak to the staff and sense a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. I use all my skills and humour to try to defuse this. With my deputy head we then spend 90 minutes, which becomes nearer two hours, on the phone with the lead inspector – the all-powerful arbiter who determines if we are “good” or “requiring improvement”.
We upload documents to a “portal”. Months of work has gone into these, yet they are barely referred to during the subsequent inspection. Many teachers work through the evening. Having arrived at school for a normal Monday at 6.45am, I leave after 8pm.
Day one of the inspection and we are into “deep dives” of five subject areas. Heads of department present curriculum intent documents and other planning in huge amounts of detail. Panic ensues. The lead inspector, who has already told me the curriculum plans on our website are too brief, does not like some of what we present.
By 9.20am a head of department is having a panic attack, red in the face, gulping water and then doing deep-breathing exercises. The stakes are simply too high for him to cope. The inspector cuts short the meeting then tells me all of the documentation he still requires. “This is a major concern,” he adds menacingly.
As the day progresses, we get to know who the “nice” inspectors are – experienced former school leaders who want to capture what is great about our school.
The lead inspector checks in about my welfare. He asks how I am but doesn’t look me in the eyes. He is typing what I say into his laptop. He is going through the motions of caring.
We have our end-of-day team meeting. My deputy headteacher and I sit listening, unable to contribute. It seems to be going OK. After about 90 minutes the lead inspector says: “I have to warn you that tomorrow the outcome of your inspection could be less than good.” Panic stations again. “TCUP” I keep thinking – think calmly under pressure. After they have gone I give all sorts of tasks to the leadership team. It is after 6pm. We work until nearly 9pm and I eat two slices of cold pizza.
Day two. I wake thinking about retirement and rehearse in my mind various speeches I might make. Will I be able to avoid swearing at the lead inspector? A strategy emerges and I decide to challenge and push back. Nothing to lose!
In a one-to-one meeting he starts to backtrack. I make some progress. The team think provision for Send (special educational needs and disabilities) is good. They are happier with what they see and hear. We are still jumping through hoops, providing endless bits of paper. Data, analysis and evaluation. Are children attending enough clubs? It is dark at this time of year and they want to go home in daylight.
My final meeting with the lead inspector is about the curriculum. He is a compliance checker. Eventually he seems satisfied, but is he really? We then sit again as the team seemingly decide our fate in front of us – though I know full well that they have already made their decision and this is largely a performance. The first judgment, on quality of education, is “good”. Nearly two hours later the overall effectiveness is judged as “good”.
I am too relieved to celebrate. I share privately with my deputy head that I was planning to retire if it had all gone wrong. “I was going to resign too,” she blurts out. We are saved. I am too tired to celebrate. I have a cup of tea and go to bed.
Accountability and challenge are essential to any system. Ofsted used to be full of serving headteachers carrying out inspections; this was once a largely peer-led process designed to help schools improve. There must be a better way. The stakes are too high and the risk to schools, teachers and headteachers is too great. Ofsted inspections must now be paused until we can create a culture of accountability and caring.
