Category: CEO’s Blog

In the context of a forthcoming Bank Holiday weekend at the time of writing, and just following the Easter break, I wanted to share with you an extract from a piece by American author Kurt Vonnegut.  Regular readers will be aware that I’ve referenced him previously – specifically, his dystopian science fiction story “Harrison Bergeron” which I found fascinating and “If this isn’t nice, what is? Advice for the young”.  Both are highly recommended.

I’ve more recently gone down a proverbial rabbit hole with his other fiction and non-fiction works.  I find his writing so insightful yet in no way impenetrable. 

So, without further ado, here’s the extract – from “A Man Without a Country” (2005) in Chapter 6 (entitled “I have been called a Luddite”):

“I work at home, and if I wanted to, I could have a computer right by my bed, and I’d never have to leave it. But I use a typewriter, and afterwards I mark up the pages with a pencil. Then I call up this woman named Carol out in Woodstock and say, ‘Are you still doing typing?’ Sure she is, and her husband is trying to track bluebirds out there and not having much luck, and so we chitchat back and forth, and I say, ‘OK, I’ll send you the pages.’

Then I’m going down the steps, and my wife calls up, ‘Where are you going?’ I say, ‘Well, I’m going to go buy an envelope.’ And she says, ‘You’re not a poor man. Why don’t you buy a thousand envelopes? They’ll deliver them, and you can put them in a closet.’ And I say, ‘Hush.’ So I go down the steps here, and I go out to this newsstand across the street where they sell magazines and lottery tickets and stationery. I have to get in line because there are people buying candy and all that sort of thing, and I talk to them. The woman behind the counter has a jewel between her eyes, and when it’s my turn, I ask her if there have been any big winners lately. I get my envelope and seal it up and go to the postal convenience center down the block at the corner of 47th Street and 2nd Avenue, where I’m secretly in love with the woman behind the counter. I keep absolutely poker-faced; I never let her know how I feel about her. One time I had my pocket picked in there and got to meet a cop and tell him about it. Anyway, I address the envelope to Carol in Woodstock. I stamp the envelope and mail it in a mailbox in front of the post office, and I go home. And I’ve had a hell of a good time. And I tell you, we are here on Earth to fart around, and don’t let anybody tell you any different.”    

This blog is sometimes (I hope!) beneficial to others but is also something for me too.  Vonnegut’s endorsement of finding a reason – however tenuous – to connect with the wider world and take pleasure in its many and varied trivialities is a valuable “note to self” as we draw to the end of a working week and toward the extended weekend. 

As a child, my friends and I were often on the receiving end of an injunction to “go out and play!” from parents who, in part, wanted us from under their feet but also wanted us to experience the same wonderful world where Vonnegut can get his envelope. And this is not the same world as one of Amazon deliveries to the door.  Propelled by bicycle wheels, we would embrace the day – without a plan other than to be home in time for tea, and without an objective other than to have fun. 

As the lockdown restriction of the Covid 19 pandemic becomes more of a historical event than a recent memory, in my opinion we would all benefit from remaining extremely grateful for the little things we can encounter beyond our own doorstep, which we all pined for during that time. 

So, I hope whether it was at Easter at this Bank Holiday weekend, or at some point in the summer, you take some time away from the pressing considerations in order to “fart around” for at least a brief time.  I know that when I do, I’m a better person for it. 

Thanks, as always, for reading.

Mike

John Taylor Multi-Academy Trust is a member of the Confederation of School Trusts – an excellent organisation that advocates for the academy sector and highlights developments in schools and wider themes across education.  In its latest member briefing, it summarised the newly-published 2025 Teacher Labour Market in England Annual Report by The National Foundation for Educational Research (NFER). The unwelcome headline in the Report is that teacher vacancy levels are at their highest rates since records began in 2010. 

The study shows teacher leaving rates have not improved since before the pandemic and more leavers are of working age rather than retiring. This, coupled with persistently low levels of recruitment into initial teacher training, is leading to widespread teacher shortages, with unfilled vacancies reaching six per thousand teachers in 2023/24 – double the pre-pandemic rate and six times higher than 2010/11.

The report calls for a range of measures to be taken to shore up retention and to incentivise recruitment.  As might be anticipated, these measures centre on the fundamental factors of workload and pay: reducing the former and enhancing the latter.  This is eminently sensible and, I’m sure, will be impactful if implemented with vigour. 

However, there is something about the value of teaching that resides beyond workload “to do” lists and a monthly payroll entry.  On the Department for Education’s “Get into Teaching” website, there are a range of case studies and points made that highlight why teaching is such a worthwhile, and worthy, profession to pursue.  These include the opportunity to make a difference to young lives, to work creatively and to harness skills and qualifications already gained. However, even on this website, the case for teaching as a professional choice is made below that of pay and benefits:

For a number of years, and in a range of forums, I have argued that we need to consider teaching as an act of national service as is the case in many other countries.  We know that during the pandemic, teachers and leaders in our schools were considered to be “key workers” – and rightly so, as they kept our system going for all our children and continued to offer school-based learning to vulnerable children and those of other key workers.  Further back in 2000, I recall being in receipt of a letter from my local authority (Wiltshire County Council) during a national haulier protest which entitled me to preferential treatment at the petrol pumps – again as a key worker with an imperative that I get to my place of work in the context of acute fuel shortages.  For many young people, a sense of making a profound difference and receiving subsequent recognition is a great incentive when they are considering their career choices. 

Aside from times of crisis, do we as a nation assign sufficient prestige to teaching?  Certainly, many children, parents and individuals in our communities do so – and a “thank you” card or small gift makes such a difference to the teacher who receives it.  Yet we also have a small minority who seek to erode teacher authority, undermine expectations and – sometimes publicly via social media – defame reputation.  Such individuals would, no doubt, be the first to criticise their child’s school were it to struggle to recruit high calibre, specialist staff.  They are the equivalent of car owners who write to the manufacturer to complain of poor workmanship, having failed to have their vehicle serviced and routinely driven it recklessly and outside its specifications.

We all have a responsibility to preserve what we value.  If, as a society and a nation, we value our children’s education we need to preserve the wellbeing of those who deliver it and actively defend them from the few who seek to deride, devalue, and dismiss.  Pay and workload are, of course, factors here – as they are in any recruitment and retention dynamic – but as an act of national service, teaching should always mean more.

Thanks, as always, for reading.

Mike