When I entered teaching it was my goal to become a headteacher. And to do it as soon as I possibly could.
I knew that it would require sacrifices on the way to getting there and even more once in position. On this, I have not been wrong. I became a headteacher at the age of 31 and, as expected, it requires long hours in school, lots of weekend work, travelling to various courses, conferences and visits, late-night emails and being available 24/7 ‘just in case’.
But if I’m honest, these stresses are a part of the job that I thrive on.
The one thing that has shocked me, though, is the toll it has taken on my family.
Male headteachers feel the loss
When we talk about feelings of guilt about missing out on family time in teaching, we are almost always talking from the female perspective. As recent prominent campaigns have pointed out, we don’t expect the same things from men as we do from women when it comes to children and responsibility for their care. We - unfairly - put the obligation on women.
And so, no one really warned me of quite how hard I would find it being absent from my son’s key life moments.
As father of an 18-month-old boy, there are moments that are incredibly hard to miss. His first swimming lesson was particularly difficult. Dropping him off and collecting him from Nursery for the first time was another tough one. But mostly, it is the little things.
When I excitedly exclaim on Sunday morning that he has said, pointed at or played with something, or even laughed at breaking wind for the first time, and then discover that he has been doing this for days or even weeks without me noticing that’s when the realisation hits.
Half an hour in the morning while getting ready and maybe the same before bed at night if I’m lucky is not a lot of time to spend with your child and, even though as a teacher I probably spend more holidays with him than most dads in other professions, a lot changes in the life of a toddler in eight weeks. I miss seeing him grow up.
It isn’t easy to put everything you have into being the best teacher or leader that you can be and, at the same time, be the best husband and the best father. Sometimes, something has to give and deciding what that is can be very difficult.
Good to talk
Do men in teaching talk about this enough? Probably not, in my experience. Yes, we may talk about how busy we are or about how difficult it is to fit everything in, but what we don’t discuss is how it makes us feel: about the regret at the missed moments, the dilemmas of what to sacrifice or just about those times when you miss the little ones the most. Despite a hugely positive shift in attitudes over the past years and decades, there is still a sense of duty to be the provider above all else and, sometimes, at the expense of all else.
I am still learning about how to manage this most effectively; I try to ensure that during holidays and weekends, I make the most of the time I have and spend as much of it as I can with my family. Throughout the week, I try to look at it as a positive that I have the time at all, rather than a negative that I don’t have more. I try to make sure that I ring-fence at least some time, even if it isn’t much, and that nothing gets prioritised over this, no matter how ‘High Importance’ the email may be classified or how many reports need to be written.
I would also like to think that I am now far more empathetic towards other men and women in this situation and this will make me a better leader going forward.
My advice to anyone feeling that they are struggling to get the balance right is to talk to those around you. There are probably more people who have felt the same way than you realise and an emotive subject such as this brings more understanding than you’d expect.
Sean Price is headmaster of Westonbirt Prep School in Gloucestershire
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