The Sad Road to Happiness

By Alison Parker

Alison Parker makes her inspirational, fictional, debut with Jessie Robertson: an amusing, spirited, child of the 1960s and her struggles and frustrations as she navigates through relationships, school, teacher training college and the workplace with a condition, once considered by many, as the 'middle class myth... Dyslexia.

Jessie is later diagnosed with Seasonal Affective Disorder (S.A.D.). Will she beat the mood-based disorder and finally find happiness?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Aug 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9781716802652

Book preview

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Chapter 1

Westfield Comprehensive School. The Midlands 2004.

Jessie Robertson sat at the back of the class hall rubbing her sweating hands. She watched the Chief School Inspector’s lips but struggled to hear his words.

Good afternoon. I’m sure by now that we have met, albeit briefly in some situations. My name is Stephen Weaver and I am the Chief School Inspector. I would like to thank you all for supporting my inspectors during this visit. For new members of the teaching profession I’d like to tell you a little about the process.  My Inspectors have a professional knowledge of the education system and together we are committed to making a greater difference by raising standards and improving lives. Our roles include observing lessons, talking with both teachers and pupils. A meticulous and methodical approach is taken when gathering and interpreting evidence. We will look at the written work, check the school’s organisation and discuss our findings. Inspectors, by their nature, are tactful, diplomatic, fair, honest and very capable of being objective. Once the inspection is complete we give an oral report on the conclusions to teachers and governors. Inspectors will then complete a record of evidence and write a report.

Jessie watched the Inspector’s lips move but the words became hazy. She was in a daze.

Why did the head of department change the curriculum, thought Jessie. My system worked. It was tried and tested. I have files, back up and years of delivering a system that worked. I’m a passionate, thorough, teacher, I love my job. Nothing makes me happier than teaching maths.

Jessie thought about how eleven-year-old Tommy Clarkson had initially struggled with the subject and had tried to disrupt the class with his antics. She knew Tommy was disguising the real problem and persevered. She gave him time, understanding, and by the end of the school year, Tommy waited until all the other pupils left before thanking Jessie and telling her that she was the best teacher and how she had made maths easy for him to understand. Jessie remembered how happy she felt to hear those words. It validated all the time, care and effort she had given day in and day out for years.

Are you okay Jessie?

Jessie shrugged her shoulders, blinked several times and shook her head.

Sorry, I don’t think I’m really with it Carole.

Carole Gibson was the school’s Home Economics teacher. The two had been friends and colleagues for over a decade.

Hey, I looked over and thought the lights are on but no-one is at home. You were just gone Jessie. The Head Inspector left five minutes ago. A few of us were talking about their findings and that’s when I looked over and saw you just sitting there motionless.

You won’t believe this Jessie. Mr Dodds, the history teacher, was telling us what had happened at his friend’s school. By all accounts the inspectors arrived and began to throw their weight around the school with casual disrespectful remarks about sub-standard teaching. They were particularly blunt with the P.E teacher which seemed to upset a number of the pupils. When lunch time came round, the inspectors entered the canteen. Well, the chatter reduced to just a few whispers and then suddenly, without any warning, one of the boys from the football team took a handful of mashed potato from his plate, took aim and then threw it across the room.  It hit one of the inspectors right in the face. It was the flame that lit the fuse. Pupils began to pelt the inspectors with their lunch.

That’s terrible, said Jessie.

What, you don’t think that’s funny?

Yeah, I think so. Carole I’m really not with it. I have to go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Okay Jessie. I hope you feel better and if I can do anything to help just give me a call okay?

Jessie smiled awkwardly and ushered herself out of the classroom. She had no memory of getting into her car or driving home. She looked down at her bunch of keys and then back at her car. Jessie put the key into the front door lock and stepped into her home. She heard voices in the kitchen.

Right, enough is enough now. Come on Jessie, pull yourself together, thought Jessie.

Hello Ben, how was your day? she asked.

Ben was Jessie’s youngest son. He had recently started at a new senior school. Jessie had noticed a change in his behaviour. Increasingly he would take himself off to bed early and when she checked in on him later in the evening, he would be asleep.  Even as a young child Ben always had a healthy appetite, but nowadays Jessie watched him push his food from one side of the plate to another before putting his knife and fork down and making excuses about going to his room for homework. The mornings had become a battleground with excuses of feeling ill which inevitably led to aggressive and unreasonable temper tantrums. There was a problem, but Ben refused to talk about it.

He looked coldly at his mother, grunted, and took himself off upstairs to his bedroom.

Jessie could feel her heart sink further.

Her husband Craig came out of the kitchen carrying a bowl of hot food.

I’ve made you some spaghetti bolognaise. It’s on the side if you fancy it, said Craig as he scurried into the lounge and sat in front of the television.

Friends is on, hurry up.

Jessie shook her head. She felt as if her world was falling apart and all Craig could offer was a plate of pasta and yet another episode of Friends. Jessie saw two bowls of pasta and a small dish of grated cheddar cheese on the side. She lifted a fork and spoon and twirled a helping of spaghetti but just as it touched her lips she let it fall back into the bowl. She closed her eyes and rubbed her head. She knew it was not unusual to feel sad every so often, but when the head of Maths changed her system she had struggled. She struggled with change. She could not understand why something that had worked so well for so long needed to be changed. The news that the inspectors were coming compounded her feelings of anxiety. She remembered the last inspection three years earlier. An inspector had entered her class and stood just a few feet away from her as she demonstrated how to solve an equation on the blackboard. The class was behaving well, and increasingly she felt a little easier until the inspector stopped her in mid-sentence and asked if she had read the National Curriculum. The question had shaken her. Her mind became a jumble of fear and all she could focus on was the word ‘read.’ No, she had answered. All she could muster was the one word ‘no’ when what she wanted to say was that she had browsed through the hundreds of pages but had not sat down and read the document at length. Jessie couldn’t lie, she could never lie but the correct explanation had failed to leave her lips. The inspector made a note and left the classroom.

I know it’s the inspector’s job to find faults, thought Jessie, but I know mine and I don’t need anymore. Why the hell don’t they just install cameras in every class and watch us all from a distance. I would be happy with that. Just let me do my job and allow me to teach mathematics to my class and if there’s something they don’t like we can just review the video and sort out any problems.

I’m going to bed Craig. I’ve had a rough day and I’m tired, said Jessie as she climbed the hallway stairs.

Yeah, sure. Goodnight.

Jessie clambered into bed and rested her head on the pillow. She wanted to sleep but her mind refused to close down and she began to think about Miss Richards, the Head Teacher, who was better known by her colleagues as the Wicked Witch of the West after the character in The Wonderful Wizard of Oz but because the school was named Westfield they changed the Wicked Witch of the East to the Wicked Witch of the West.

Jessie had the skills, talents and characteristics of a good teacher. She had a calm demeanour and found teaching enormously satisfying. She strived to be the best that she could be, which was borne out by happy pupils and the good things that happened in her class. She had strong communication skills and was a good listener. Jessie had a deep knowledge of and a passion for maths and had built many strong bonds with pupils over her years as a teacher. She was kind, friendly, flexible, and approachable and had a strong work ethic and high expectations for all those that entered her classroom. She disliked racism intensely and had, on one occasion, after hearing a derogatory remark about a black family on a nearby estate, lectured the pupils fervently for the entire thirty minute lesson.

Jessie wanted to like Miss Richards but very shortly after her appointment as Head Teacher she stamped her authority on the school. Meetings were held where she would stomp back and forth demanding higher standards and citing a catalogue of issues throughout the school. She issued measurable and timed objectives to teachers who she deemed were failing to hit her standards. One by one Jessie witnessed her fellow colleagues leave the school and in some situations the profession. The final straw for her friend, Mr Neil Hogben, was after a series of votes had been taken and the outcome wasn’t announced. Mr Hogben stood up in the crowded staff room, placed his empty coffee cup on the table and told Miss Richards he would rather make his living cutting grass in the pouring rain than spend another day under her leadership.  Within three years one third of all the original teachers had either moved schools or changed profession. It had stunned Jessie and all her colleagues when they learnt that when Miss Richards’ mother passed away, she arranged for the body to be put on ice until her return so it did not interfere with her holiday plans. Miss Richards, Head Teacher, was the Wicked Witch of the West.

***

Morning arrived to the sound of Jessie’s alarm clock. Craig was already awake, and he had put a cup of tea on her bedside table. She sat up and stared out of the window.  Jessie could feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest. She felt waves of sadness and an almost uncontrollable fear wash over her.

Come on, Jessie, come on. Stop all this and pull yourself together. Just get up and get on with it, thought Jessie.

As Jessie got into the shower, she heard the bedroom door open.

See you later Jessie. If I’m back before you I’ll make us some dinner. I’ve called Ben and he’s playing up again saying that he’s ill. Sounds like an excuse to skip school again to me. I’ll see you later, said Craig as he closed the door.

Jessie heard his footsteps on the stairs. She listened as the front door opened and then slammed shut.

Jessie dug deep and left the shower. She dressed, put on her make-up, went into the hallway and stopped outside Ben’s bedroom door. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply. Jessie didn’t have the emotional strength for another drawn out confrontation.

I’m leaving Ben. If you don’t go to school you’ll have to explain yourself to your dad and your head teacher when I tell them about your behaviour.

But I’m not well, shouted Ben through the closed door.

It’s your choice Ben. I’m going to work now.

She winced as she delivered the ultimatum. Jessie knew something was troubling Ben, but he just refused point blank to discuss anything and it had taken almost all of her mental and physical energy to get herself up out of bed and get ready for work.

Jessie unlocked the car door and got in. As she turned the ignition key, the song ‘Hey Ya!’ by Outkast, blared through the speakers. She quickly turned the volume down and then off. She thought back to driving home just the day before and still could not find a single memory.

Did I have the music on full volume all the way home and not even know it?  Jessie wondered.

Driving her car into the school car park she looked from left to right. Her usual parking space had been taken but there was another close by.  She turned off the engine and sat with both hands on the steering wheel. She thought about the day ahead and again about the changes to her tried and tested system of teaching and how she had been expected to just change a winning formula. Another wave of fear and anxiety washed over her. She felt her body tremble and stared down at her white knuckles as she gripped the steering wheel.

Finally, Jessie managed to prize herself from the car. She stood upright, inhaled deeply and then strode across the car park, through the entrance doors and into the secretary’s office.

Good morning Sharon. How are you today?

Oh, hello Jessie. Yes, I’m fine thank you. Well I would have been until the Wicked Witch of the West waltzed in here and pinned this up, said Sharon pointing to a small notice on the wall. It read:

Sadly Miss Williams has died and will not be returning to school

Miss Richards Head Teacher

What? Is that it after almost 20 years of service? Just one line? Jessie said, shaking her head.

Tell me about it. I think it’s disgraceful. In my career I have been secretary to many tough head teachers but never have I come across a person so self-centred and whose needs are paramount above all others. The Witch has no remorse for her mistakes or misdeeds. She is insensitive to the needs and feelings of others and doesn’t give two hoots about the consequences of her actions. She may impress the inspectors and her superiors, but we know what she’s really like, Sharon said, rolling her eyes.

I am so angry! said Jessie.

You’ve just got to let it go Jessie. Sooner or later those upstairs will see how she manipulates people and situations to get what she wants and then she’ll get her just reward.

One bloody line said Jessie, and that’s it! After all those years of hard work and loyalty and our friend gets one bloody line!

Miss Anita Williams had started teaching during the same term as Jessie. They had worked well together and had become friends, both expecting to remain teachers at Westfield until retirement. During 2003 Anita had become ill and was diagnosed with cancer. She was confident that the doctors would have her cured and back to teaching in no time. Jessie believed her. She wanted and needed to believe her. The pain of losing her friend was too much. She did visit Anita at home, and on each occasion Anita said that she was feeling better and that it wouldn’t be too long now. In her heart Jessie knew her friend was very sick and may not make it, but didn’t truly acknowledge it. When she saw the short note announcing the death of her friend it brought back all those fears, pain and anger.

Sarah looked down at her watch.

You better get to class Jessie. I’ll see you for a coffee at lunch.

Jessie smiled awkwardly and nodded as she left the office. Ahead of her she spotted Miss Richards, Head Teacher, standing in the main corridor directing students.

Jessie became agitated and it grew with each one of Miss Richards’ body movements. She could feel a rage building up inside her. She clenched and released her fists several times and battled with a voice inside her head that told her to let it go and just get to class. The voice became weaker and eventually there was just silence and anger.  Jessie began to walk at pace towards Miss Richards. The students and the surrounding area became a blur and all she could see was the Wicked Witch of the West.

I want a word with you!

Yes. Good morning Miss Robertson. Pop along to Sharon and make an appointment, said Miss Richards sternly.

I will do no such thing!

I’m sorry, what did you say?

You heard me. I bet you’ve never had a true friend in your life, have you? I doubt you would even know how to sustain a relationship. We’re all just names on a sheet of paper to you, aren’t we? The people in this school are just pawns on a chess board to be pushed around and dispensed with until the Queen gets her checkmate.

Now listen, Miss Robertson! You will not speak to me this way!

Really? And what the hell are you going to do about it? How on earth can you live with yourself?  Anita Williams has taught here for as long as I have. That makes us the two longest serving teachers at Westfield, and when our fellow teacher and friend passes away from cancer, she gets a one line announcement on a scrap of paper in the secretary’s office.  Your behaviour is atrocious! said Jessie with both hands on her hips.

Oh, yes, the passing of Miss Williams, Miss Richards said dismissively. I was sorry to hear about that."

Really? I don’t think so. You, Miss Richards, are a pathological liar. You have this tremendous need to control conversations and situations and this will not be another added to the long list. I doubt you have any real values.

Actually I do, and I will not stand here listening to the rantings of a subordinate!

"You have no conscience Miss Richards. You may be a big shot with the authorities but in real life, where relationships matter, you’re a failure. Friends are the people that make the good times great and the hard times easier to live with. Relationships make life fun and more fulfilling. Friends are the ones we