People sometimes ask me where I find the time to do the things I do. I’m never quite sure how to answer, because none of the possible answers is entirely satisfactory.

Partly it comes from not having children of my own (indeed, the real question to my mind is how parents manage to achieve anything at all). Partly it comes of needing to find something to do while The X Factor is on in the house. And at least part of it comes from being very lazy as a classroom teacher. Although I prefer to think of it as efficient.

I’m not really that lazy of course - my headteacher might read this, so let me be clear about that - but I do try to find the path of least effort when it comes to teaching workload. Why have a new display every fortnight when a good set-up can last you for months? Why mark 30 sets of maths calculations when you can set 30 children on the task just as easily. Why write lengthy comments on every piece of writing children produce when…well, just why at all, actually?

Not everyone feels like that, though. Some people take great pride in their displays and enjoy clambering up on an awkwardly-balanced chair on a wonky table to staple the perfect ribbon into the wall. Some marvel at the beauty of their planning files, which are a source of constant reference. And to those people I say: “Each to their own”. Of course, I think they’re bonkers, but that sentiment could be applied to a majority of primary teachers, no doubt.

You really don’t have to put in the hours

There’s another group of people, though, with whom I do take issue. For it’s not the taking home of books, or the weekends collecting props and creating resources that troubles me.

It’s the teachers who take pride in the 60- and 70-hour weeks they’re working - and worse, who tell the rest of us that we should all be doing it. It’s phrases like “it’s the nature of the job” and “you have to put in the hours to do the job well” that get my goat most of all. You work yourself into the ground if you want to, but don’t presume that you’re any better than the rest of us because of it.

Maybe all those hours are producing fantastic results, and maybe the kids do adore every minute of every lesson, and maybe the headteacher thinks you’re wonderful. But Morag in Year 3 is trying to hold down a full-time job while raising a family and caring for her ageing mother who lives 30 miles away. And Matt in Year 6 is doing all he can to support his teenage daughter through her GCSEs while his younger son wants to be taken to football training four times a week. And maybe Julie in Reception would just occasionally like to spend some time reading with her own child before he goes to bed each night. They’re not worse teachers for it, and how dare anyone even attempt to imply as much.

Don’t make out anyone is doing any less of a job because they don’t work 70-hour weeks

The job doesn’t demand a 70-hour week, even if you’re trying to do it well. Poor leadership might, yes. Ineffective practices might, yes. But doing the job well, and providing an excellent education for our pupils doesn’t need to take over every moment of your waking hours.

If you enjoy working like that, then go ahead. But don’t make out that anyone else is doing any less of a job because they choose not to follow suit. The job has stresses and workload demands enough as it is; the last thing we need is the teaching martyrs insisting that even that isn’t good enough.

Michael Tidd is deputy head at Edgewood Primary School in Nottinghamshire @MichaelT1979