Susan Douglas: ‘Good leaders can still fail if the context doesn’t fit’

Susan Douglas is CEO of Eden Academy Trust, a special-school MAT with 11 schools and settings. She is also a senior adviser at the British Council, sits on the board of the Confederation of School Trusts and is advising the government on its reform of special educational needs and disabilities support. She was formerly a headteacher and teacher. She writes:

I was excluded twice from school. I just wanted to be popular, I guess. I was bullied, I didn’t fit in. And my Dad, that second time, he came to my room, sat down on the bed next to me and he said: “You know, I will always support you, whatever road you choose to go down. And it’s surprising the road you’re choosing to go down at the moment. But if you do choose to go down it, I’ll still support you and I’ll always love you.” I never put a foot wrong again.

My Dad was a pilot in the Second World War and then went into finance, but he was a natural teacher. He was constantly getting us to learn things: there was this blackboard in our kitchen and he would write things like “learn this piece of music” or “work out how many insects there are in the garden”. Our car once broke down on the way back from my flute lesson, and all the car steamed up because it was a really cold night. He taught me about Pythagoras on the inside of the window of the car. He was diagnosed with cancer when I was 11. He died when I was 24.

I always wanted to teach in a special school. I did my work placement at 16 in one. My Mum and Dad had always instilled in us a strong sense of inclusion and of valuing people who were too often overlooked, so maybe it came from that. But the option to do the special-school teacher pathway was taken away when I got to that stage, so I did mainstream. My first job was in a mainstream school that had six headteachers within two years. That taught me a lot. It showed me that whether you were good or bad as a leader, you still had a profound influence on a school. And it showed me that good leaders can still fail if the context doesn’t fit what they can offer.

I loved teaching. I was a good teacher. And I think I was good because I was genuinely interested in the kids. I wanted to know what mattered to them. And I felt it so deeply I remember all those I taught, even now. Every single one of them.

I was 20 when I was told I could not have children of my own. I had always imagined being a mum, with a pinny and baking cakes. And suddenly that was taken away. Some might think my career choice is a painful one as a result. I don’t agree. I see it the opposite way. I have been lucky because I have had thousands of kids go through my care who I have loved and got to know and helped and supported and taught. My choice to be a teacher has been a joyous one.

I rang my headteacher 10 minutes after my Dad died to say I would not be in the next day. Their reply was: “But it’s parents’ evening.” It’s too easy, as a leader, to forget that the person standing in front of you is a human being. I promised myself that I would never forget that.

I got my first headship in a mainstream school with a specialist base for children with physical disabilities and complex needs, and it was joined to Grangewood School [in West London], which was a special school. The head there, John Ayres, and I had this vision where the schools were joined like a campus and where kids would move between the two and the schools would work as one. We made it happen and it has had such a deep impact on me. I was 28 when I took that headship. I was 36 when I eventually left. But that period shaped so much of how I now see and can understand the system.

I always see behaviour as being...I don’t want to say unmet need because I don’t think that’s the right word, but the way people behave is just part and parcel of how they’re feeling that day or that week, and what is happening in their life. So whether it is a pupil, a colleague - anyone - you need to know them really well, you need to know what is happening for them, you need to demonstrate you care about them and show them that they matter. If you do all of that, you can demand high standards and have high expectations. Without those things you can’t.

My mum was a matron in a nursing home. She had this deep vocation. She was a phenomenally inclusive leader. She made sure everyone was welcome. And when we had her funeral, all these people turned up, we saw her impact. I remember this group arrived, calling themselves her Nigerian family. She was just so powerful. She taught me a huge amount about building a team, being part of the team and making the team the most important thing.

For real change to happen for young people with SEND, for them to have the successful lives they are capable of, society needs to change dramatically. A cultural shift needs to happen. I know I can’t force that change alone, as a leader, but I can influence it by how we operate in the communities within which we work. Making sure our kids are visible in the community, making sure they have the opportunities locally with work that they should have, and challenging the fear and stigma that still too often surround disability and SEND.

The death of a child is something you have to face in our schools much more regularly than in mainstream. Someone once gave me some really good advice: you need to think about an onion, and the person who’s died is right in the centre of the onion, and you need to work out where you are in the layers. You need to look inwards to look at who you should be supporting, and you need to look outwards to look for the person who might be able to support you. It’s really clever because it puts into perspective where you are in grief because it can be easy to think “Oh my God, this is terrible” and make it about you. Now, as a CEO, I need to be there for my heads, for my teachers, who are much closer to that child. The death of a child is always the worst thing, it is just the wrong order of things. We need to be the best leader we can be in those situations.

The fact I have worked part time for the British Council for 20 years, that I have had policy roles, that I have advisory roles for government now - that’s all been so useful to me as CEO of a trust. I have seen leadership in a huge variety of countries, but also at various different levels. When you have been privileged enough to watch people operate in all these different ways and places, you bring that information with you in a really positive way.

I think there are sensible things you can do to help leaders avoid burning out. We have coaches for all our school leaders; that professional space can be critical. We also use supervision, because the job can take an enormous toll emotionally. And we try to make sure everyone has someone at work they can really trust and turn to, for whatever they need. I have Carley, my deputy, for that. She’s amazing. But what we can’t do is help at home. And what happens at home can be so critical to a leader’s wellbeing. My husband Peter and I are a team of two. We understand each other and what the other one needs. We have our roles. I would not be the leader I am without him.

I still get such a buzz being in schools. I loved teaching, and I never expected to love leading. But I realised quickly that you have the power to make things better and different for people, and that’s really exciting, isn’t it?