Why international schools inspire teachers

More than 20 years in schools and nearly a decade as a deputy head prepared me for most things and most interviews, but the first-round interview for an international role was on a new level. Governance at the schools I’d worked in was strong, able and professional, but this was sharper and more thrilling. After a gruelling hour, I stood in the lift with the representative from the headhunter, who, with a broad smile, said: “You need to book a flight to Thailand.”

I had been interviewed for the role of leading an international school, the one from which I now write. The temptations of sun, sea and endless Asian holidays were never in the forefront of my mind. Serious professionals and superbly run departments impressed me at every turn.

My ignorance of the international sector had been profound. In 2016, towards the end of a long run with the Boarding Schools’ Association, I started to get offered consultancies abroad; Harrow International School Beijing, Marlborough College Malaysia and North London Collegiate School Jeju would have a significant impact on my later decision-making, and to those schools I am grateful. They showed me that the sector is buoyant, serious, filled with superb teachers and producing high-quality education for expats and the population of those countries.

My interview was held in June 2016. The UK held its breath and then learned that Brexit was the path. One week later, I was offered the post at Shrewsbury, Bangkok. It was not a difficult decision to accept.

Recent articles in the national press have spoken of “teachers fleeing” and one educator suggested that they would rather “burn in hell” than return to the UK. This is not representative of my school nor, I feel, the schools run by friends and colleagues. They took the decision to leave the UK; workload, interference, living costs and Brexit have all contributed to a larger pool of applicants to schools like ours. However, there are many who seek the professional expansion on offer when working in a different context and country. In particular, certain international schools attract candidates in their own right, regardless of locale.

This is self-affirming and also self-fulfilling. The more staff who look to our offer as an attractive one, the more they will want to stay long-term. Continuity is what makes great schools. I saw it at Trent College, where as director of sport I inherited much the same staff who taught me how to teach as a PGCE student some years before. They stayed even longer, and their legacy lives on. However, there is another thing that makes great schools - independence. The opportunity to deliver the type and style of education you choose. This thrives in the international sector. Much of what we do is based on the UK, but we have the opportunity to shape our thinking around context and ambition to meet the needs of all our students.

Would I rather burn in hell than return to the UK? No, absolutes just don’t work. Mark Steed, principal at Kellett School in Hong Kong, wrote recently and touchingly of the challenges of leaving family behind. Over the past three academic years, excellent staff have returned to the UK from Shrewsbury. Some for a promotion of sorts, some for family and personal reasons, and a small number because they just felt their time was up. These cases are why generalisations don’t work, and why we are also working hard to make sure all Shrewsbury teachers can make a smooth transition back to the UK if that time comes.

In Hong Kong, this is a very real [security] issue and our sector is hoping that all teachers here remain safe. Equally, staff here speak of the unrest in Bangkok some years ago as a time when difficult questions were posed. Many of them stayed through those troubles, floods, fluctuating currency and other irritations. Why? Not because they can’t abide the thought of going back to the UK, but I would suggest because they have found fulfilling and challenging work in an ambitious school. I know this is replicated in many excellent international schools across the world, and long may this continue.

Chris Seal 
Principal, Shrewsbury International School, Bangkok, Thailand

Teachers left to suffer violence and abuse

Dear teachers and teaching assistants,

This letter is for you and all the hard work you are doing. You are amazing and I know you are always giving 100 per cent. Even though no one praises you enough or at all, please know you are doing your best.

I’ve been there, in your shoes, and I know it’s tough. I know you are underpaid and feel unappreciated most of the time. I know you are exhausted after each school day and I’ve seen you crying in the staffroom. I cried as well, many times, many nights, until the moment I had to stop and leave.

Working in an academy in northern Manchester, in one of the most dangerous and deprived areas in the country, broke me. It broke my soul, caused me anxiety, and going to work became a burden.

People who don’t know what it’s like to work in a school might be intrigued. They might ask, “Why are you complaining when you have so many holidays? Plus it’s just working with kids. How can that be stressful?” But, my fellow teachers, you know that’s only a small advantage of this job. I, for example, didn’t have all the holidays and, yes, working with children can be fun and rewarding, but only when the environment is good and the SLT are listening to your needs  and caring for your wellbeing.

Working with children is great: that’s why we chose this profession. But when you are going to work fearing you’ll be hit by a child, shouted at by a parent or sworn at by another student, things become complicated.

How many of you has had their lesson interrupted by a flying chair or table, or by a child hitting another child or by a student hitting you? I hope not many, but in the past year and a half I’ve experienced them all.

And when things like that happen, where is the joy? Would this be acceptable in any other workplace? The school I was working in accepted them all and turned a blind eye.

No matter how many members of staff they lost, they showed no remorse, refusing to acknowledge that the system they had tried to implement wasn’t working, because they didn’t know what they were doing. At least, that was my impression after a year of struggle.

And, after all this is said and done, what do you think? A place of violence is a place where academic achievement can be reached? And what about the students who are witnessing the violence towards a teacher, a violence that has no consequences? How do they feel? How would you feel in their shoes?

Let’s raise stars, not monsters.

A fellow former TA