Open during lockdown

November 6, 2020 / chrishildrew / 1 Comment

I am writing this post on 5th November 2020, the first day of the new national restrictions imposed by the government to control the spread of coronavirus, protect the NHS, and save lives. This is the second wave, so we’ve been here before: except, this time, schools are staying open.

I will never forget March 2020, and the first lockdown. COVID-19 was new to all of us then. In the week ahead of closure of schools, student attendance dropped away. Significant numbers of staff were unable to come in, and we had to close – first to Year 12, and then to all students.

This time, some things are the same – but some are very different. The anxiety is still there, of course: but student attendance this week has been 95.7%. We are used to the routines of wiping down desks, hand sanitising, face coverings, and year group bubbles. And, as everything else closes down and society begins another month of “stay at home,” school carries on.

We are pleased that schools are staying open. We firmly believe that our students are better off in school: no matter how good remote learning is, there is no substitute for being in a classroom with an expert teacher. We know that it is there that our students will get the best educational experience, and make the best progress.

We also believe that the “normality” and structure of the school day is good for mental health and wellbeing. Of course, it’s not quite as “normal” as any of us would like: our extra curricular programme is severely limited; the cross-year-group work that is a hallmark of the Churchill experience has had to be suspended; we cannot hold in-person assemblies or run our programme of trips and visits; and the big events, concerts, presentations and performances that we look forward to are all on hold. But even so, the routines of a five-lesson day, seeing friends and continuing to learn in person is stable, reliable, and welcome.

This lunchtime, it was a crisp and clear autumn day. As I did my normal circuit of the Academy on duty, I saw Year 10 tearing round the 3G after a football, and throwing and catching, kicking up the autumn leaves, and booting a rugby ball into the bright blue sky above the top field. Year 8 were enjoying the wide open space of the bottom field. Year 9 were on the tennis courts, in small groups, excitedly discussing the sex and relationships education sessions they had had that morning. Year 7 were under the canopy, and up on the grassed area behind the library, their chatter filling the air as they prepared to deliver the speeches they’d been working on in the morning. And Year 11 were being Sixth Formers for the day, making the most of having the run of the Sixth Form Centre and trying out courses as they consider their post-16 options. It felt…well, it felt like a normal day at school.

Against the backdrop of strangeness and uncertainty, the familiarity was welcome. We have implemented multiple measures to minimise risk – but nothing we do can eliminate that risk entirely. Despite the uncertainties, despite the challenges, we are so glad the flag is still flying, and our Academy is still full of staff and students learning and working together. That’s how we like it: we will do everything we can to keep it that way.

Connecting

April 30, 2020April 30, 2020 / chrishildrew / 1 Comment

connect4

Living in lockdown for the past month, we have been searching out things to do. With my youngest son, we raided our childhood games shelves and brought out a few old favourites. I’m sorry to say he defeated me at Snakes & Ladders, although I managed a narrow victory in Ludo! We also dug out Boggle and our second-hand Connect 4 game. This was a big hit and all three of my children ended up involved in a competitive tournament, trying to outsmart each other to join up lines of four yellow or red tokens in the drop-in grid (pro-tip: sneaky reverse diagonals were the most effective strategy!)

As I watched the game, I thought about the connections they were making, trying to join up the dots into groups – and connecting with one another at the same time. I remembered watching Churchill students battling with one another over the same grids (we have a couple of Connect 4 sets in the new Hive social area for Year 7). I remembered playing with my brother as a child – I bet there’s a Connect 4 set back in the family home somewhere! And I wondered how we would have coped with lockdown if it had happened when I was at school in the late 1980s. We had four television channels and a video recorder. There was one landline phone in the house. Tim Berners-Lee did not invent the world wide web until 1990.

What I am finding most difficult in lockdown is the separation from people. I am lucky to have my family around me, and I cherish that real human contact. But out in the world, as I wrote last week, we keep two metres away from other people. We can’t see our friends, we can’t hug our relatives. That human contact is so important to us – we need it.

World map connected, social network, globalization business, social media, networking concept.

And yet, in this connected world, we are lucky. This week alone I have Zoomed, FaceTimed, and WhatsApp video called for work and with my family. Parents and students have shared photos, videos and documents showing their work and activities whilst the Academy has closed. At a touch of a button, I can instantly send messages and letters to all the students at the Academy, or all the parents, and they can receive them as good as instantly. With this blog, I can type on my laptop, press publish, and my words are instantly visible to anyone, anywhere, who cares to look. It’s easy to take this connected world for granted, but we are so fortunate to live in a time where this technology enables us to be together virtually, when we can’t be together actually.

Yet, as I watched my children playing Connect 4, there was a different kind of connection happening. Something real, something tangible, something that you don’t get through a laptop, phone or tablet screen. After a long day of Zoom meetings on Tuesday, my eldest two children and I went for a walk in the rain. We discovered a patch of woodland near our house which we didn’t even know was there. A stream flowed through the trees, and the rain pattered on a rich carpet of flowering wild garlic and bluebells. We could hear every raindrop, the birdsong in the trees, the rush of the water. The children were already planning hide and seek spots, the best tree to rig a rope swing from, and where we could picnic when the sun came back.

“Grandad would love this,” they said. “We must show him when we’re allowed to see him again.”

I’m grateful that the internet allows us to connect, but I will be even more grateful when we can see each other again – for real.

Living in lockdown

April 23, 2020April 23, 2020 / chrishildrew / 2 Comments

As I write this blog, on St George’s Day 2020, we have missed fourteen days of “normal” school due to the coronavirus closure. Fourteen days. It seems like much longer. “Normal” school already seems like a distant memory, and this new life has taken over.

60932341581__3280FDBB-6AD0-4B6E-982B-0B100F96EDEA

Our front window, this morning

Simple things, like going to the supermarket, have become significant events. I used to pop out and do the weekly shop without thinking about it. Now, I am held two metres apart outside the store, waiting in a queue for a disinfected trolley. Once inside, I am directed round the aisles in a one-way system, instinctively waiting behind the black-and-yellow tape for the person in front to take their milk before moving forward. They are wearing a face mask and blue latex gloves, and this is “normal.”

Social distancing in the supermarket: the new “normal”

The store is eerily quiet, and then I realise – everyone is shopping alone. The child seats in the trolleys are folded flat. Nobody has brought their children with them. I never thought I would miss the sounds of somebody else’s toddler having a tantrum – but I do. I turn into the baking aisle: no flour still. No eggs. No rice. And this is “normal.”

As I wait my turn for a checkout, behind another black and yellow line, I look at my fellow shoppers. I can’t help the thought crossing my mind: have you got it? Will I catch it? When I get home, I wash my hands. The first verse of Shake It Off is 20 seconds long; I sing it to myself as I soap.

Before COVID-19, I would leave school after a full and exhausting day. I’d listen to a podcast (or Taylor Swift) and unwind, coming home to spend time with my family. Some weeks, I would hardly see them due to late meetings and early starts. Now, I see them all the time – but the separation between work and home has disappeared. My school work – video conference meetings, emails, phone calls, lesson planning, problem solving, decision making – takes place in and around my family life. I find it hard to switch off, constantly stepping from parenting to working.

Like many families, we are juggling working from home with supervising our own children’s home learning, supporting them and keeping them motivated. I don’t know whether it’s a good thing being locked down in home-schooling when your Dad’s an actual Headteacher…you’d have to ask my children that!

The BBC News film crew, preparing to film in the ICU

These are difficult times. I watch the news once a day, but try not to look beyond that. The heroics of the NHS staff inspire me, but the blurred-out ventilated patients they are tending to are terrifying. I struggle to sleep: I worry about our students, our staff, my family, myself. What will the future be like? How will schools return safely? How can we get back to the old “normal?” When will it be possible? Will it ever be possible? And, because there are no answers to these questions, they go round and round and round.

The tree in our back garden, this week

And yet, in these dark times, there is light. Our students are accomplishing wonderful things in their home learning and in their communities. Our staff are developing a whole new range of skills in remote education, and continuing to reach out and support our students even when we can’t be together. I am loving spending all this time with my family, playing, creating, reading, eating and laughing together. The sun has been shining in a sky without airliner vapour trails; traffic noise has almost disappeared. Every Thursday evening we venture out to our front gate and applaud. To our left and right, up and down the street, families are doing the same. Someone sends a firework up into the evening sky. Blossom is filling the trees.

In the end, it will all be okay. We have adjusted to this new “normal;” we can adjust again. And, if we work together, maybe, eventually, we can establish a new “new normal” that is even better than the old.