
My run slowed to a shuffle and then stopped altogether. I was 10 miles from home and the cold March rain hammered down. I sat on the muddy verge by a particularly soulless stretch of the A38 and burst into tears.
The jig was up.
After helping my once failing school back from the brink (the second time I’d conjured up this trick having done the same during my first headship) the previous year’s SATs results were unexpectedly poor leaving us once again vulnerable. This year’s results looked no better. The feeling of super-human confidence which the staff and I projected had suddenly evaporated and morale was low with staff arguing and questioning the school’s direction in general (and my leadership in particular).
And OFSTED were coming. And the school would be judged RI (or worse). And then I would have to resign. And then I would not be able to make the mortgage. And then I’d never work again…
My inner-chimp catastrophised un-checked.
So I sat on the verge in the rain.
School leadership is wonderful but undoubtedly stressful. The daily firefights just to keep the school running (particularly in a small school when you’re the only person in charge); the thorny complaints or staffing issues where all you can do is come up with the least-worst option; and constant pressure to drive up standards with OFSTED lurking omnipotently just out or sight. All of these things can at best lead to a few sleepless nights and at worst herald something much darker in the form of clinical depression.
Ask any headteacher and they’ll give you a list of a dozen fallen comrades who have left the job for good. At some point these people have decided that the joy of the job isn’t enough to outweigh the pressures it brings – a draining of talent that our education system will struggle to replace. Mental illness is often the secret disease that eats away at school leaders and staff at all levels, often not being recogonised until crisis point has been reached – sometimes with tragic consequences. Although I have thus far been fortunate enough to live without mental illness, I have, through friends and family, seen it up close and know that it is not something that can be ignored or ‘snapped out of’.
This blog is not about clinical depression. Musings of a Headteacher about stress will no more cure clinical depression than a broken leg. Your doctor, your union and most LAs offer free counselling and I wouldn’t hesitate in making use of this if I felt like I was tipping from stressed to depressed.
So this blog is simply my own observations on how to stay sane after 11 years of headship, for those Headteachers or school leaders (new or not) who are trying to manage the stress of a stressful job but are not yet at the point of needing real help.
These are my ‘top tips’:
1. You are brave and capable.

Very few school leaders arrived there by accident. The fact that you have got this far – chosen to lead a school – shows that you are someone who has shown leadership ability. A wise person once said to me that ‘Leadership is confidence’ and he was right. To some degree, leadership is a confidence trick which we all deploy to persuade others, and often ourselves, that we (and they) are made of the ‘right stuff’.
The first thing to realise then is that the Henry Ford quote is true. All successful Headteachers sometimes have to fake their resolve and confidence because they, like everyone else, have no magic crystal ball to see what the future holds.

At my school, the back of all the children’s PE T-shirts is emblazoned with the slogan “Zip up the hero suit”. This reminds us that when times are hard we must don the invisible super-hero suit that we all have hidden beneath our usual day-wear and project, if only to ourselves, the confidence to succeed.
We have all found ourselves looking at our visage in the mirror when we need to step-up to a particularly stressful task. Willing your internal monologue to tell happy stories about past success, your fabulous ability and general awesomeness sometimes is enough to silence the inner chimp (who is quick to tell you how terrible everything is).
When staring in the mirror, it does not harm to look for a super-hero staring back at you.
2. Accept that you are expendable.

This sounds brutally harsh but I do believe that understanding this fact is essential in keeping perspective.
Two years into my first headship I was asked by the LA to speak at a new Headteachers’ event. Having survived the first period in a school in difficulty, I thought carefully about what I would say. My first slide was entitled “Remember – You are expendable.” I can still see the fretful glances between the senior LA officers as I delivered the line. I was not invited to speak to new Headteachers again.
But I still think I was right. And I think this is something that every Headteacher needs to come to terms with – ideally before they start the job.
Headteachers are the only member of a school team whose job is directly linked to the school’s success. Making peace with the fact that our tenure as leader is only guaranteed when the school is succeeding is one of the most difficult – but important – psychological thresholds which we can overcome.
If you view headship as an automatic ‘job for life’ then you risk not seeing the ever present risks that the role (for good or ill) brings with it. I draw no moral conclusions from this (and I have in the past been accused of having mercenary tendencies) but this is a simple fact. And understanding the fact allows us to weigh up the implications of our actions realistically.
3. Tell the truth.

I have never yet got into trouble for being honest. No matter how bad the news, my governors, the LA, and even OFSTED, have always treated me well when I have told the truth – no matter how unpalatable that truth is.
Things in your school will go wrong – usually on a weekly basis, although usually small things. Occasionally bigger things will go wrong (SATs results will be poor, the LA or some other agency will criticise you or the school, a parent will complain) and the temptation is to minimise or cover-up the issue. However, the most helpful thing which you can do for the school and for your well-being is to own this failure.
I am not saying for one minute that you should constantly criticise yourself in front of the staff, but showing an awareness of your own short-comings sends out a powerful message that ‘to err is human’. In my experience, contrary to what you might imagine, it usually increases the governors, LA etc confidence in you as they can see that this is someone who is honest and transparent.
Telling the truth is a lot less stressful than trying to cover up a mistake (which will eventually be found out anyway).
4. Get help.

When things go wrong, which they inevitably will, the most useful thing you can do to reduce your stress is to take proactive action to improve the situation.
Sometimes you will know what needs to be done but often you won’t so getting a fresh pair of eyes (ideally specialist eyes) on a problem can quickly provide clarity when previously their was just a sense of fatalistic foreboding.
In some schools there is still the absurd notion that unless the Head and the rest of the staff have found every solution to every problem themselves then they have somehow failed. I take the opposite view and always call in advice when something hasn’t gone to plan. After all, if I knew what to do to solve the problem then I wouldn’t have the problem in the first place.
Decide who has successfully demonstrated their ability to do the thing which you or your school currently can’t and then give them a call.
5. Get a life
Your friends are nice to you (it’s in their job description). Having a regular opportunity to vent is psychologically liberating and great for your mental health. Friends (and family) put things into perspective and a night in the pub with a good friend who thinks your data on closing the gap between PP and non-PP children is the dullest thing in the world stops you taking things too seriously.
My Deputy Headteacher plays skittles every Thursday evening, ballroom dances every Friday evening and watches Bristol City every Saturday afternoon. On top of this he is usually out at some social gathering at least one other night during the week.
All his work is done to an excellent standard (Outstanding according to OFSTED), he attends copious evening school events and works 7:30am-6pm . And I have never seen him stressed.
He loves is job but also has that rare thing in our profession – a life.
So if you’re feeling too stressed to go out and see your friends, maybe that’s the problem. I know it’s really hard, but when someone asks you out on a school night – say yes once in a while.
6. Get a coach

The problem with grappling numerous, inter-locking and highly stressful problems which the job throws at us is that we are too close to the action to really be able to think clearly about the big picture.
As a new HT in a school in difficulty I commissioned a leadership coach – mainly because it seemed the fashionable thing to do. I remember driving to the first (3 hour?!) session feeling slightly irritated that I was wasting my time navel-gazing when I could be getting stuff done.
Boy was I wrong.
3 hours later I had answers. And not answers given to me by someone else; no, these were my answers which had been lurking in my brain all along just needing a skillful coach to coax them into the sunlight.
Leadership coaching helps you un-knot all those tricky inter-related problems and see each for what it truly is – a logical problem with a logical solution. They are not your friend and have no emotional connection to you whatsoever. They just scaffold your thinking long enough for the solution to appear. And that lifts a whole heap of stress!
7. Make hay whilst the sun shines.
As someone who enjoys running Ultra-marathons (my next race being 100K), I understand that failure in these races is a physiological certainty. My body will unravel, usually with still many miles left to run. But, as with all things, running for 10-15 hours is about conditioning – you train to fail. You accept that point X your body will want to give up and you train both your body and your mind not to give up at this point – by practicing exhaustion and fatigue regularly.
As school leaders we need to use the periods of low stress to reflect on how we have managed high-stress in the past and how we will manage it again in the future. Stress is as much part of our job as naughty children and cross parents. Yet we are often surprised when stress once again hones into view.
When the sun is shining and all is right with our schools we should be developing a plan for when the next wave hits us. We need to reflect on the things which we did in the past which worked well and make a mental note of them for the future. We need to look down the tracks and try to spot stressful pinch-points (be it particularly heavy workload or run-up to tests etc) and create a plan to manage that stress whilst we have the head space to do so. When the storm hits (which it inevitably will) all our cognitive assets will be used up dealing with the crisis. Having an ’emergency drill’ already worked out in our heads will provide us with the mental markers which we will need to deal with whatever is going on. And this will make it a whole lot less stressful.
8. Look for the good – remember why you’re here

As I mentioned in an earlier blog, nothing lifts the soul like remembering your core moral purpose. For most of us, our core reason for being in education isn’t spreadsheets or SEFs but improving the lives of children.
So when the spreadsheets won’t give you the answer you need, spend a bit of time in the part of the school where you can see your impact. Maybe even teach a lesson… If you’re very brave teach a lesson in Reception.
Being a school leader puts us in the privileged position of creating a corner of education which we believe represents perfection. Even in the most troubled school you’ll find the green shoots of something great and seeing the product of that effort makes much of the hardship in getting there feel worthwhile.
Go and spend some time looking at what’s going right – not just what’s going wrong.
9. Run.

When life gets too much – run. Even if it’s just round the block – go for a run.
Science has shown time and time again that physical exercise is one of the most effective ways to beat stress (along with being outside), so build it into your day. Cycling (or running) to and from work is a great way to clear your head on the way to work and decompress on the way home. If you can’t run (yet) – walk. Park the car 1/2 mile from school and walk the rest. Or go to the gym. Or go for a swim. Or play football/ netball/ hockey. Or dance. Or get an allotment.
It really doesn’t matter what you do – only that you do something.
10. Keep going.

And so I sat on the verge. Defeated.
And then I felt a bit silly. There was no other way home – I had no money and there wasn’t a bus. If I sat there much longer I’d freeze. So I stood up and ran home. When I got home and my wife asked if I’d had a good run I just nodded and went for a shower. This was the truth. Sometimes you only have the choice of stopping or going on – and stopping is never the right choice.
I can’t tell you that I didn’t worry from that point on – I did. A lot. But the crisis passed. Within a year OFSTED had come and gone. They didn’t have me sacked (in fact they were very nice). What had seemed like an insurmountable cliff to climb a year before was merely a bump in the road with the perspective offered by time. When we we’re stood in the center of a crisis it appears that nothing will improve. Yet it almost always does.

The ubiquitous WW2 ‘Keep Calm and Carry On’ posters might look like just a bit of olde English kitsch now, but in 1940 as the blitz raged the government genuinely feared that the population would despair and civil order would collapse. The propagandists’ simple message of trudging through to better times was a stroke of genius – willing a traumatised public to keep going.
So if your grandparents could keep going as bombs literally rained down on their heads, I’m pretty sure, even when our SATs results are wobbly, we can keep going too.
Now go for a run.

I love tis article. Thank you!
Have you written a book?
Rebecca Harris