Helping young people to write the story of themselves

I’ll confess. I found the first Future Leaders summer residential really tough. There were some really bloomin’ clever people who I didn’t always agree with and bag-loads of self-reflection (which for an over-thinker like myself has the tendency to make me somewhat morose). Perhaps made more acute because I was knackered at the end of the academic year, I found it a challenge both mentally and emotionally.

It’s taken a good eight weeks to digest and consolidate, and several drafts of this rather rubbish blog, but what has come out of it, more positively, is the crystallisation of what I value in schools and the values I will live when, one day, I become a Head.

It was the second day. We’d been given a bank of the kind of terms you see plastered over school letterheads – Aspiration. Learning. Achievement. Kindness. Fairness. – and asked to highlight our values. The ones we’d hang our hat on. The ones that would be the core drivers in our future schools.

None were quite doing the job. There was a niggling internal voice of disquiet at the genericism being being presented to us. And then I saw it: pride.

I’d discounted it at first. Initially, it spoke of Othello-like hubris. Of arrogance. Of some of the more bullish behaviours demonstrated by one or two participants on the course itself. But then slowly it shifted in my mind into rainbow celebrations. Mining strikes. Pupils clutching GCSE certificates.

What I want for every child, adult, and community I work for is a secure belief in who they are, pride in the many places they have come from, and the amazing possibilities they are heading to. I want to help grow bravery and self-confidence in a world where tone policing is still rife if you are female, BAME or LGBTQ so that individuals and groups can own the achievements they have worked for.

The word reminded me of the brilliant Jaz Ampaw-Farr speaking at the PiXL main meeting this June. She ended by stating with absolute certainty: ‘I am powerful because I know my own value’.

Hers is self-assuredness that hasn’t come from mimicking public school behaviours or being given access to a rowing club. Or even donning a blazer. It’s a deep sense of self-worth that stems from ownership of her own personal story. She is the Delphic maxim ‘Know thyself’ brought to life.

‘Knowing others is intelligence; knowing yourself is true wisdom’

-       inscribed at Temple of Apollo at Delphi and attributed to Socrates 

So, to begin to feel such pride you have to first fashion together a coherent sense of your own identity and I for one – despite my pretty linear personal history – will never underestimate how difficult this can be.

In ‘The Colossus’, Plath says “I shall never get you put together entirely,/Pieced, glued, and properly jointed.” As a teenager I misread this line, seeing it as Plath musing on her own sense of self rather than her perceptions of her father. Even now, it perfectly sums up to me the confusion that stems from the seemingly simple concept of ‘who you are’. My undergraduate dissertation was rather pompously titled ‘The subject always asks ‘What am I?’ after a line in a Helene Cixous text and I reckon I’m still asking that question at the ripe old age of thirty-five.

But what if your experiences and background aren’t linear? What if your experiences of the world are complex, fractured, multifarious? How then do you make sense of the jumbling pieces of yourself in order to craft something coherent?

I am lucky enough to teach both pupils who grew up on different continents, who have lived in many different contexts, and who speak several languages as well as, conversely, pupils whose roots and experiences are encapsulated by the couple of mile square catchment of our school. As such, many of our pupils are members of groups with values very different from the wider culture they now find themselves part of. It is our duty to show these young people that these rich personal identities have the power to become their greatest asset and strength.

As educators, our school culture, our curriculum and the pastoral support we give has the power to help pupils stitch together what can appear disparate facets of their lives and experiences. We can do this by filling in knowledge gaps related to geography and history. We can do this by shining a light on the structures of power and class they find themselves in. We can physically bring together the home and school as well as taking pupils out into the wider world to let them see it all for themselves. We can do this by telling them stories which will enable them to grow into adults who are able to confidently write and tell the story of themselves.

Later on Twitter, Jaz rightly proposed “We can define our own identity but belonging requires agreement from the group.” Schools are surely one of the most powerful of all groups you can join. As a Head, I want to create a school culture in which every single child, teacher, parent, and community member feels powerfully that they belong. Daniel Pink says that “when people join groups where change seems possible, the potential for that change to occur becomes more real.” And I really do believe that through the schools we create we can positively change lives.

So, with just a couple of weeks to go until the next Future Leaders residential, I am feeling less knackered, more optimistic, and well up for the next challenge. And when I get asked the question about my values again I won’t need to look down at the list of words on the paper in front of me. I’ll be able to answer with my head held high: pride.