The last time I wrote, I was ranting about the exam results debacle and I promised myself a break to let the term start before starting up my weekly writing habit again.

I would be fair to say the emotions have varied wildly over the last few weeks. Immediately after seeing, and hearing, the heartache caused by an algorithm and the painful wait for a fairer outcome, I found myself questioning whether I wanted to be in education anymore. It felt as though we had reached crisis point and if I’m honest, I couldn’t see the point of what I was doing, especially being out of the classroom. I felt I’d lost sight of myself. I even found myself missing the days of my most challenging year 9 group ever.

Let me tell you about them. To say they had a complex range of needs would be a vast understatement. At the end of year 8 we decided that an alternative curriculum was necessary to equip them with the tools they’d need to succeed later in life. So, that summer, we set about planning how we would deliver English and what other subjects they’d be involved in. We pared everything back and created a bespoke programme just for them. You’ve heard the PM talk about the Whac-a-mole approach for Covid-19, but I don’t think he really appreciates what that means. It means every time you knock one down, another one pops up again, not that you eradicate the problem. Anyway, it felt like every lesson was a game of Whac-a-mole. I’d just get them settled into a writing task, everyone had a pen, it was calm, and then … someone would fart. Loudly. That set off a chorus of disgusted responses, at least two would leap from their seats and remove themselves from the offender and it could take a long while to get them all settled again before something else occurred – usually another fart. It was exhausting. Thank heavens for my wonderful LSA, WB. Some days you just needed confirmation from another adult that someone really had said that and that you weren’t losing your mind.

Taking them to the library for their weekly reading session was also ‘interesting’. It took military precision, with an LSA at the front and me at the back and phrases such as ‘don’t touch that’ and ‘no don’t go down there’ on a constant loop.

I was missing that? Seriously? What I was missing was the direct student contact, the feeling that you were, in some small way, making a difference. Even if it was merely arriving at the library with the same number you set out with and no casualties had occurred along the way. That was why I had started teaching, my only goal as I entered university as a mature student, to help students, to guide them, to share my knowledge. I felt that had been lost along the way and I’ll admit to feeling very disillusioned. Mr P could see that the light had slightly dimmed and was duly concerned.

What was heightening this feeling, I later analysed, was the complete absence from college, since March, of any student life and the accompanying interaction.

And just when I felt there really was no point in anything I was doing, I received a phone call from reception on my duty day, before term started. A student had phoned in to talk to their tutor, but she wasn’t in, and the member of staff thought I’d be ‘lovely to talk to’, so after managing to cut the student off, I rang him back. Earlier in the year his family had suffered the loss of their home through a house fire, and were still struggling to get back on their feet. He’d phoned because he was worried about the year ahead, he didn’t have any of his college work or any of his books. Everything had been lost.

I reassured him we wouldn’t let him fall behind and that we would do everything we could to support him. To be honest, I would have replaced his college books myself if I’d needed to. But I made an enquiry about what we could do and after a few emails it was agreed that the college group would order his textbooks and he would be able to apply for a learner support grant. I relayed this back to the student and he was so grateful. This then sparked off an email exchange, he asked if I knew of any jobs going as he’d been made redundant in July and really wanted to help his family. This was one special student. I said I didn’t know of anything, but that I was sure we’d be able to help him find work. 30 minutes later I put out a plea on my Facebook page and a friend who owns a shop said she may be able to help and would get in touch with him. She was among many who sent links to jobs in the local area.

During this series of interactions, I was getting my educational mojo back. This is what it is all about. This is what I’d been missing, and it was still there.

The term started and I persuaded the principal to agree to a mufti day to raise some money for this family. To be honest, he didn’t really take any persuading. I let the staff know and in one email trail I had with a teacher about the right text books to buy, I said something about coming in fully attired as Where’s Wally. It had become a bit of a standing joke on the Teams meetings over the summer as so many people were wearing striped tops. She said it would make her week. Challenge accepted. Stripy top, hair in plaits and topped off with a woolly hat, I trod the corridors with a collection bucket and made a few people smile.

I finally met said student this week. He came in to talk about the money we’d raised. His mum had said that all the money they’d raised through crowdfunding had gone towards getting them re-homed, so she wanted him to have it. He admitted that the only clothes he had were those that had been donated, so it would be good to get himself something new. He thanked me a few times, but I didn’t feel there was anything to be thanked for – how could any of us not want to help? And he’s such a lovely student, it’s easy to do everything you can for him. There’s such a network of support at college, that we should be able to get him a laptop too, and there are many funding avenues he can tap into. I really hope this gets him back on his feet again and he makes a success of his studies. But whatever happens, he’s the nicest young man I’ve met in a long time and that alone will take him a long way.

That has been the best thing about starting this term. There have been hours of work put into student appeals about their grades, a lot of worry about making everything safe and constant revisiting of risk-assessments. Staff have had a lot of questions, understandably, and sometimes the answers aren’t obvious, but we’ve all worked to find them out. We’ve put a lot of energy into solving timetable clashes ahead of the start of term, and it’s paid off; the timetable helpdesk has been eerily quiet this year. And induction passed with only a few technical hitches. I found myself back in the classroom on one of the induction days, meeting new students, trying to put them at ease and answer their questions. Although I had more about dress-codes and tattoos than about mask wearing and one-way systems. It felt good to be back on the front line again, although how I would manage teaching from the front, when I’ve always been a wandering-around-the-room kind of teacher, is beyond me.

The first two weeks of term, before students arrived, felt more like two months. But when the students finally arrived on Monday, there was a sense of calm and serenity that only comes from the effort everyone put in beforehand. We’re back in business. The corridors are alive with student chat, albeit behind masks; teachers are teaching – students are learning and I’ve found myself again.

What’s ahead this year? Who knows! I do feel as though we’re operating on a week by week basis to some extent, although the whole year is obviously mapped out. It’s all about being ready to adapt at a moment’s notice, but that’s what we’re good at in education.

What’s ahead for my blogs? Well, it won’t be the journey of a head of learning, because I took you through that last year. It will still be about the ups and downs of the role and how I work with others, but one of my biggest challenges is to increase the number of students taking English A-Levels. I’m on a mission to make English sexy again, so watch this space to see what that involves. I may even be asking for your help. If you took English at A-Level, be prepared, I’m coming for you!

In the words of my online exercise guru, “I’m excited, let’s get started!” But first, the weekend. Mr P no longer thinks I’m missing in action, but he might if I keep writing any longer.

Enjoy your weekends everyone.