My writing, I have decided, will include reflections, thoughts and ideas about education. But, I cannot ignore the situation I am in (see previous writing) and so, I will also be adding bits and pieces about my disease. Feel free to skip them. It is a sad, lowly and horrible illness that no one would want to experience. But, having this condition has helped me in many ways. It has forced me to stop, to understand the meaning of the phrase ‘self-care’ and to be able to recognise friendship in all its variation. I am hugely grateful to those wonderful people who chose to navigate this path with me.

One friend, a dedicated and talented head teacher, visited me every morning whilst I was in hospital. At 7am, before going to school, she would sweep onto the ward clutching hot chocolate and croissants, in a determined attempt to make me eat. She would stay, gossiping about the antics of the children, until she had seen me drink my hot chocolate and begin to eat, before rushing off to start the school day.

This wonderful friend is the sort of person we need running our schools. Kind, determined, thoughtful, she has turned her school into a thriving, inclusive community that works for the children and families it serves. Her approach has been hugely successful and received glowing praise from Ofsted (if that matters) and the local authority. Parents vote with their feet – she is oversubscribed in most classes. What is her approach, I hear you cry – put simply, she has put the children at the heart of every decision she has made.

This is not as easy as it sounds. It takes determination and courage to put children at the heart of the decisions you make as a school leader. It can make you hugely unpopular – particularly when these decisions involve safeguarding, or doing things in school that are not considered “Ofsted approved”. Yet, she has stuck to her guns, consistently insisting that the children come first; that they are safe, warm, fed, cared for and learn.

The school she leads is in an economically disadvantage community within an affluent town. It is in one of the many hidden pockets of disadvantage that exist in England. Yet, the issues and challenges that come with disadvantage are just the same as the more widely acknowledged communities such as Blackpool or parts of the Wirral. These hidden communities tend not to be the focus of governmental intervention; there are no extra pots of funding for additional programmes. These hidden schools, in hidden communities often become the centre of the community. They are the place everyone goes to for help.

My friend, in role as Designated Safeguarding Lead, spends a large part of her day supporting vulnerable children and even more vulnerable parents. The school runs a weekly food delivery service, where the community can sign up to buying good quality food at low prices. There is a washing machine and dryer available for parents to use. Breakfast club is well attended and free. A walking bus ensure children are always able to get to school. My friend is always there to help as the children arrive and she is often called on to help sort out issues between parents and families.

The curriculum is designed around the needs of the children who attend. There is a rich extra-curricular offer, providing experiences and opportunities for the children. Talk is at the heart of the curriculum – this has been the focus since she became the head teacher, many years ago. The school now has two inclusion classes, attended by children with speech, language and communication needs. Reading and writing is carefully monitored and any child who shows signs of difficulty is immediately supported through a range of carefully selected interventions. Staff teach phonics, and reading comprehension. They developed a reading for pleasure curriculum, including an assessment framework, which they use to explore how confident the children are as readers, as well as being able to read.

PHSE, RSE, and life skills are carefully integrated into the curriculum. Staff understand that the children bring huge funds of knowledge to school, but they may also not have experienced other ways of navigating personal relationships, staying healthy and ways of living that stem from religious practice.

It is not always an easy place to work- the lives of many of the children are hard and they bring anxiety and anger with them each day. Yet, staff tend to stay. Under my friend’s leadership, staff are encouraged to learn and develop. They have opportunities to study, take part in research projects and work with other schools and colleagues.

This school is a vibrant and welcoming community. The head teacher consistently places the children at the centre of the decisions she makes. Everyone understands this purpose and commits to it. It is exactly the sort of school all children deserve – a school that supports them to learn, starting from where they are; a school were every child feels safe and supported; a school that understands the the lives of the children inside and outside school matter and takes on the responsibility to help with that; a school were people are important.

Yet, this is also a school that is losing its wondrous Head Teacher. She is leaving the school, and leaving education. She has had enough of navigating the demands of a policy world that insists she makes decisions she knows are not the interests of the children who attend her school. She can already see where the new Ofsted framework is going to make things difficult for her and how this will affect the school and the community it serves. She is tired of managing an ever decreasing budget and being the person that sorts things out. In fact, she is just exhausted by it all.

This is a tragedy that is playing out across the country. Talented, skilled, experienced school leaders are leaving their roles because they are exhausted of being the ones who do everything. These are not the celebrated CEOs, or favourites of the DFE, who bask in the glory of edu-celebrity. These are the hidden leaders, who work in the hidden schools in towns across England. The fact that no one seems to notice their departure is the tragedy. Because these children deserve their determination to ensure they get a school experience that is right for them, not just delivered from a textbook or a scheme.