Yeah yeah yeah…
I know, I am OPH. Grey, tired and quite possibly past my ticket to the great headteacher scrap-heap in the clouds. It is only a matter of time. As you trendy, trad, post progressive, digital natives get your teaching thang on, I am slowly decaying and going senile. I only have the mushrooms behind my ears to prove it. I hate you all, with a vengeance that only the ignorant can muster. I spit on your energy and your optimism.
I’m tired. Really. Tired of trying to prove ‘IT’. Justify my place here… Writing the script as I slowly dot the i’s… dog tired of it all. It’s just so false and I feel like the Joker in the pack. I read the twitter headlines, the I DO THIS and the I DO THAT and quite frankly it makes me feel a little nauseous and rather baffled. We seem to live in a time in which, what you say and your media profile seem to mean more than what you have done. I’m calling this ‘Ranieri Syndrome’ – for no other reason than past success fades with the seconds… Results results results… I understand why. I really do. Who goes around listing what they have actually done as though this matters? Perish the thought! That takes a special level of narcissism. The past is no tonic for today and all that.
But… let’s face it, the education landscape is not driven by experienced people who understand what it feels like to teach – to be a teacher. Education is as corporate as the music industry. It pretends to be better than this… more ‘art house’ than ‘chart pop’ but who are we kidding? The people who make things happen are like the suited executives with mullets nodding their heads to Grime as they secretly wish they were back home downloading their favourite Queen Anthem. There are so many fakers in education that I often feel like I am standing in the queue to Madame Tussaud’s. Plastic this and plastic that. I hate it. I really do… but I am no revolutionary, no action agitator or subversive… at best I am a poor mans punk poet who dreams of one sub standard Billy Bragg line or Mark E Smith phrase to take to the grave. I feel little more than a bitter 40 something screaming my ‘so called’ ideology in to the wind blast.
‘I am a fool!’
And here stands my point…
My views are lost in the dark room, like a dull tune, I resume, until I hear the right tune… it’s nearly June? So i assume… that we will remove the fading fumes and consume a different view.
Yes… you got it. My ability at writing a bar is not good. There is a reason for this. I am not skilled at it. I know nothing of the complex art of spitting 16’s and hitting the bar… a little like many fakers try to be a ‘big thing’ in the education game but, listen blood – you ain’t no big ting… to be real you need to have existed in the world you are trying to imitate. Too often the people (*coughs in to hand ‘Nick Gibb!’) who make out they are experts know nothing of what it is to be on the front line. They are just powerful and influential people playing the game. It is like me playing at being a doctor. It is wrong. It is like something @theprimaryhead said to me last night, “Yes I can cook but I WOULDN’T tell that chef how to do her job?”
Rant over. Yeah, yeah, yeah… Out!