‘Me Glasses Bust Again, Sir!’

By Mike Kent

Shortly before Mike Kent retired after thirty years as a London headteacher, the visiting educational psychologist attached to his school sat chuckling helplessly over a coffee as Mike related tales of school life. ‘You know, people would never believe what your job involves,’ he said. ‘You should keep a diary for a year and turn it into a book.’

Mike thought that was a great idea… and here it is.

Read about Emma who wasn’t, the invisible plumbers, Eddie the Terror, the Vicar’s Rolo, Samesh’s spectacles, the shoe in the fence, Joseph and the eels, the lift that wouldn’t, staffroom secrets, serious pigeons, the diplodocus, persistent salesmen, the mums up for a scrap, and a host of other jaw-dropping tales… all in the line of duty!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Release date: Feb 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9781803134710

Mike Kent

Mike Kent has spent his entire career in primary education and was a head teacher for thirty years. He has written for many educational papers and magazines and was a leading columnist on the Times Educational Supplement for fifteen years, being shortlisted twice as newspaper columnist of the year. Mike has co-authored twenty-seven musical plays for primary schools and written three books on education, including a popular autobiography of his headship years. Amazing Assemblies for Primary Schools is Mike's first resource book for teachers.

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PRAISE FOR MIKE KENT’S WRITING

THE RABBIT’S LAID AN EGG, MISS!

This book will raise a smile in any reader, but it will ring several bells for anyone involved in education. Mike Kent has obviously been there and printed the T-shirt. First published in 2006, it is still valid in its hilarious depiction of the reality of running a modern school, caught between the Scylla of challenging children (and their equally challenging parents) and the Charybdis of inspectors and educational authorities, who are mostly blissfully ignorant of the sharp end!

B. Sherunkle: Former Chair of Governors

This collection of Mike Kent’s popular Times Educational Supplement columns is highly addictive, giving tantalising glimpses of life as a primary school headteacher. I became totally engrossed in sharing his humour, poignancy, frustration and joys. It will revitalise test-driven, demoralised teachers and will remind parents of the sort of education they really want for their children.

Emily G: Teacher

Absolutely brilliant! Snippets of some very entertaining aspects of school life in an inner London primary school that will have the reader giggling non-stop! It is a joy to read Mike Kent’s books. His love of teaching and school life shines through and you certainly don’t have to be a teacher to enjoy them.

Julie Jenkins: Social Worker

I loved this. I am a parent who was looking for insights into how primary schools work and how teachers think. It made me wish my children could go to his school. Quite a few laugh out loud moments. My only criticism? It was too short!

N. Stoker: Parent

TALES FROM THE HEAD’S ROOM

Humour, heroism, common sense and inspiring humanity shine through Mike Kent’s writing. ‘Tales From The Head’s Room’ demonstrates how, against all the odds, it is possible to create a centre of educational excellence, where both children and staff enjoy the learning process.

Emma Davis: Trainee Headteacher

I thoroughly enjoyed reading Mike Kent’s school anecdotes. Each chapter is relatively self-contained and well suited for dipping into if you have a busy lifestyle. We need more school leaders like him. I hope his book inspires more potential school leaders to trust their judgement and ignore some of the loopier government initiatives!

Robert Butler: Senior Teacher

This book is such a joy! Encouraging children to learn is what education is about and Mike doesn’t let the nonsense get in his way. Heads or tails, whichever way it lands, you are going to get a highly entertaining read and have a good laugh.

Kim Kool: Lecturer, Goldsmith’s University

I opened this book and then could not put it down! This is a must for anyone who has ever worked in a primary school or for that matter anyone with the slightest interest in education. Mike Kent’s stories are hilarious but also convey the hard work, effort and dedication that teachers put into our young people to give them a great education. A great read!

Stupot: Director, The Blue Elephant Theatre.

A LIFE AT THE CHALKFACE

An excellent read! Technology brings many changes but children remain the same. I taught Infants for thirty five years and no work could have been more satisfying. I live now with many wonderful memories and this book was a re-visit to the classroom and its unforgettable memories. Thank you!

E.R. Melville: Teacher

A brilliant book that brought back such wonderful memories of working at Mike’s school. An absolutely amazing head teacher. After eighteen years I still haven’t found a headteacher to match Mike Kent.

Karen Thompson: Teacher

This book is a beautifully warm, emotive and honest account of life in an inner London primary school. A wonderful insight into the varied life of a headteacher, and all the characters and situations that the author encountered in his career. Prepare to laugh and cry as this book recounts the high and low points of a career in primary education.

Rachel McMutrie: Parent

Mike Kent was obviously the kind of head teacher we would all have liked to have been. Although he does not pull any punches when he describes the trials, tribulations and stresses of headship, this book is clearly written by someone for whom headship was not just a job, but a joy and a privilege. There must be a great many people, now in their 20s, 30s and 40s, who have very fond memories of their time at his school.

Michael Evans: Headteacher

Life as a headteacher doesn’t come with an unreservedly positive recommendation, but for Mike Kent it was the best job in the world. ‘A Life At The Chalkface’ is a love letter to thirty eventful years in a job he found endlessly challenging and fascinating. In a world of league tables and assessment spreadsheets, this book stands out as a testament to all that is best in primary education.

Lucy Edkin: Educational Columnist

Mike Kent is a rare talent. He writes beautifully and has spent most of his life in schools, first as a pupil, then as a teacher and deputy head, and finally thirty years as a headteacher in South London. So here is a rich tale, filled with meaningful insights and revealing anecdote, all set against the backdrop of school life. Read, and enjoy, his story.

Sir Tim Brighouse: Former Commissioner for London Schools

AMAZING ASSEMBLIES FOR PRIMARY SCHOOLS

This book is a must-buy for any imaginative, forward looking primary school.

John Lord: Headteacher

The activities are simple and easy to prepare and I will be using them immediately, just as long as I contact the fire brigade first!

Richard Dax: Primary Headteacher

Mike Kent’s broad experience as a headteacher and thought-provoking columnist and writer has given him the skills to produce this book, full of practical ideas to make school assemblies exciting and interesting learning experiences.

John T Morris, JTM Educational Consultants.

As a busy headteacher, this book is just what I need to capture the imaginations of children of all ages at the start of the day.

Anita Asumadu: Headteacher

NINE TILL THREE AND SUMMERS FREE

When I pick up a book, whether it be factual or fiction, I want to be entertained as well as informed. I want to be able to read it without having to go back and re-read because I’ve not understood. I want the words to flow naturally as if in direct conversation. Well, I love reading Mike Kent’s books because this is how he writes. He is a natural, and he writes with much humour too. Such an entertaining read, poignant, funny and informative. I just loved it. His best book yet!

Charlotte Russell, teacher.

Mike Kent is a familiar voice in education. For fifteen years he was a leading columnist on the Times Educational Supplement, entertaining countless readers with stories of life as a primary headteacher, all told with his trademark warmth and humour. Nine Till Three… charts the beginning of Mike’s journey into the teaching profession during the sixties. The picture of college life that he paints is all brought to life in glorious and amusing technicolour. Whether you were a regular reader of Mike’s weekly column or just somebody interested in education, this book is a real treat that is definitely not to be missed.

Jo Brighouse, Educational Journalist.

What a delightful book! A must for anybody in teaching, or anybody even slightly interested in education.

Loleta Pilgrim, retired Deputy Headteacher.

As with all Mike’s books, a riveting read and a very amusing reminder of attitudes and practices in sixties teacher training.

Terry Powell, Teacher and Drama Specialist.

I WAS A TEENAGE TREACLE TIN

The title makes the mind boggle, but it makes much more sense by the time you’ve become engrossed, which doesn’t take long! I’ve read all of Mike’s books and each one seems more entertaining than the last. I love reading, and have a few books on the go, but I always finish Mike Kent’s books first, while the others remain languishing on the bedside table. What more do you need to know? Except that this book is comforting, cheering, occasionally shocking, and just so downright readable!

Charlotte Russell, teacher

Mike Kent’s memoir is a thoroughly enjoyable experience. His wonderful anecdotes about his formative years in fifties London make for a heartwarming historical document. His stories, especially about his introductions to cinema and music, both passions I share with him, brought many smiles to my face. Mike has a rare talent. He’s an economical writer who still paints vivid pictures from his memories. He’s truly able to capture a time and a place and that’s no small feat. Highly Recommended.

Paul Cruttenden, Hi-Fi Specialist

Another amazing treat from the wonderfully talented Mike Kent. He writes beautifully and effortlessly and no matter your age or generation the stories resound in each and every one of us. I laughed and cried (with laughter too) Thank you Mr Kent.

Kathy Doyle, Special Educational Needs Co-ordinator

A wonderful memoir of life in the 1950’s, filled with funny and heartwarming tales of tricks and capers that had me laughing out loud.

Vicki Haselgrove, teacher

I really enjoyed reading this. Mike has an incredible recall of events which takes you right there with him, and with such a great sense of humour too. It’s an excellent reminder of how our childhood shapes us. A really good read.

Andrew W, teacher

Beautifully written and a fascinating insight into how life was for the generation before my own. Funny, heart-warming and a pleasure to read. Another gem in the array of books Mike has written. This book will not disappoint.

Charlotte Trendell, media make-up artist

Copyright © 2023 Mike Kent

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

Matador

Unit E2 Airfield Business Park,

Harrison Road, Market Harborough,

Leicestershire. LE16 7UL

Tel: [phone]

Email: [e-mail]

Web: www.troubador.co.uk/matador

Twitter: @matadorbooks

ISBN 978 1803134 710

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Matador is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd

This book is dedicated to all the amazing teachers I have worked with

Contents

SEPTEMBER

Emma who isn’t, roller coaster antics, stock shifters, the invisible plumbers, the £22,000 that wasn’t, Eddie the Terror, a carpet spider, roaring religion….

OCTOBER

A political visit, a desperate appeal, it’s all out in Glenda’s class, Melanie’s monitoring, problems for Mrs Ladders, I’m a high flying athlete, the vicar and his Rolos, the poisoned well…

NOVEMBER

The budding magician’s club, firework fun, see if it flies away, the impossible assembly, fruit flies, Don’t point your finger Mrs, the lucky jubilee clip, a seeping odour…

DECEMBER

Why this little Mini? Drummer Rojay, those car colours! Sam’s mother steps forward, a concert for Christmas, disco dancing, make a mummy, just doing the crossword…

JANUARY

The rubbish skip’s still here, it’s a gramophone, Friday Film Club Fun, Samesh’s spectacles, the lost car keys, a shoe stuck… in a fence, Rhamid’s tummy, I’m sorry, it’s a diplodocus…

FEBRUARY

Telephone problems, fast jury service, the Incredible hulk, off to Antarctica, the testing of Pat, Joseph and the eels, the Nursery hair salon, workload woes…

MARCH

Mums up for a scrap, persistent salesmen, a laptop scam, some comic relief, battling the bureaucrat, Nerine’s nightmare, a drinking problem, the supply teacher who didn’t…

APRIL

Fun on the first, a car shifting nightmare, off to a gig, seaside frolics, stuck in a lift, mind my music stands, a course of tedium, expensive electrics, elf and safety…

MAY

Jurassic Park, why Thursdays? Packaging problems, hot advice, those school lunches again, staffroom secrets, pseudo-jargon, rebel teachers, the things they say…

JUNE

Babamide’s sister’s violin, toilet paper trials, dodging Cameron in Sainsbury’s, films for teachers, I’m a historical resource, serious pigeons, visiting the seat of government…

JULY

Tough Theresa, Nelson and his trunks, a problem with a stick, tinder box trials, Reg Nightingale, off for a swim, students and technology, the art of report writing…

AN INTRODUCTION

It was our educational psychologist who suggested it.

Groups of schools are allocated an educational psychologist, whose job it is to visit regularly, assess children with special needs and challenging home lives, look at what might be done to help, talk with parents, and give the school advice and assistance. I’ve been the headteacher of my school for many years and I’m very close to retirement. The school is in Southwark, London. I’ve worked in difficult areas of London right from the start of my teaching career and Southwark is no different. It’s a socially deprived area with many challenging problems, especially in its schools, but I’ve loved every minute of my long headship.

We’ve had many educational psychologists since I came to the school, but I get on particularly well with Graham. Our school is well known and successful, so Graham always has time for a coffee and a chat after school, and we often break into fits of laughter when I tell him all the things that have happened since he last came.

‘You know what,’ he said, on his visit in the last week of July, ‘you’ll be retiring soon. I think you ought to keep a detailed daily diary throughout the next school year and then turn it into a book. People simply wouldn’t believe what a primary school headteacher has to deal with. I’m sure people think it’s all sherry with the governors, chatting to parents and doing lots of office work. And it’s absolutely anything but….’

‘Well, there’s certainly never a dull moment, Graham. That’s why I love it.’

‘So do it.’

‘Let me have a think about it.’

I thought about it, and I had to agree with Graham. It did seem a good idea, so here it is…

SEPTEMBER

Tuesday September 7th

It’s the first day of term, and all the children are back from their summer holiday. Our school, an elderly but imposing Victorian building on three floors, very similar to most inner London schools, has been efficiently cleaned by Dave, our Premises Officer and his cleaning team during the summer six week break. Dave lives on the premises, which I’m very happy about, as there has been a tendency for schools, encouraged by the local authority, to dispense with on-site officers and use agency staff who visit a couple of times a day, because it’s cheaper. Dave, handily, also owns a large dog. We are in a very high crime area, and it wasn’t hard to predict that some of the schools using agency officers have been burgled during the holiday, so what was supposed to be a saving became anything but.

Yesterday we had our first INSET day of the year (in-service training), a day when I meet with the staff to plan the term ahead. I’m well prepared for it, because I like meetings to run as efficiently as possible. As soon as the meeting is finished, they have the rest of the day to prepare their classrooms. Like me, all of them have been in school regularly during the last fortnight, and once again I’m reminded how hard it is to shake off the public perception that teachers only work till three thirty and have thirteen week’s holiday a year.

It’s obvious that the teachers are happy to be back. Over the years, and as the school has become increasingly popular, I have been fortunate in putting together an exceptionally talented group of people who enjoy each other’s company and respect each other’s skills. Teachers only leave our school if they are going for promotion, moving home, or having a baby.

Once the morning whistle has blown and the children have been brought in from the playground, I open some of the post… there’s always a mountain of it, even though I’ve been in school several times during the holiday, but I can quickly dispose of all the brochures addressed to ‘the company manager’. Then I do a tour of the school. Everywhere is very quiet, as it always is in the first week of the new school year, although I know this won’t last. I pop into all fourteen classrooms and say hello to everybody. The children look up from their new pencils, books and apparatus and smile hello back. I go into the kitchen to chat to Alice, our cook and her staff. I visit the Nursery where Karen, our nursery teacher is looking through her list of new children. They’re not due to start coming in until next week, so that she can give each one her personal attention. She’s already visited them in their homes (another holiday job) and chatted to their parents.

I think back to my own first day of school. I was so distraught that my mother wasn’t staying I howled as I clung on to her, and releasing me from her skirts she hurried out of the door. I ran out after her, but she’d seemingly disappeared, until I noticed her shoes peeping underneath the door of the outside toilets. I hammered on the door, and it was only when the teacher coaxed me back with a couple of toffees that I agreed to follow her inside for as long as it took to chew the toffees…

I pop up to one of the little mezzanine rooms, a feature of this lovely old building, to see Kathy, our co-ordinator for children with additional needs. She has created a little classroom wonderland, full of exciting things for children to do and decorated with an abundance of their art work, on the walls, strung across the room, and pinned to the doors. It’s a small, comfortable room, the only downside being that it’s right next to the staff toilets. Kathy, who always tells it like it is, says that she knows the ablutionary habits of all the teachers in some detail.

When I get back to my office, Sandra, our immensely capable secretary, is dealing with a queue of parents, most of whom are new to the school and have children apprehensively waiting by their side. It takes a while to get used to the routines of the school, and Sandra is dealing with lunch money, book club money, film club money, mid-morning fruit money… it’s all been explained in a booklet sent to new parents, but many of them either haven’t read it, or they’ve forgotten what it explains. How Sandra copes with it all I’ll never know, but she scribbles a few notes on her large workpad and never seems to forget anything at all. As the queue is so long, I tell her that I’ll give her a hand, and I smile at a little girl, resplendent in her new school uniform, who holds the hand of her father.

‘Hello,’ I say brightly. ‘welcome to our school. What’s your name?’

‘Emma Chizzet,’ her dad says.

‘Well, welcome to our school Emma Chizzett,’ I say warmly.

‘No,’ says her dad. ’Emma Chizzett’.

‘Sorry,’ I say. ‘I thought that’s what I said. Emma Chizzett’.

Sandra interrupts quickly. ‘He’s asking how much the dinner money is,’ she says gently. They’re an Australian family. Her name’s Alice, not Emma.’

Further down the line is Lucy’s mum. Lucy constantly loses things. You name it, Lucy can lose it. Whether it’s her new coat, her set of colouring pencils, her school bag, her PE clothes or any item of uniform, Lucy will lose it and her mum will accuse somebody of taking it. Lucy is a charming, friendly little girl, but her mum is, as my mother would have said, ‘mutton dressed as lamb’ and always up for an argument. She rules her family with a rod of iron and other parents steer clear of her in the playground. Last term, a parent remarked that they hadn’t seen Lucy’s dad around for a while. ‘Not surprised,’ another parent said drily, ‘She’s probably eaten him.’

We are still on the tail end of summer, and this morning, Lucy’s mum is sporting a new tee shirt and shorts. She is, to put it tactfully, a large lady, extremely well endowed and neither the shirt nor the shorts allow for much expansion room. As she moves to the front of the queue, I notice, with horror, that her tee shirt is emblazoned with a cryptic message. Stop Staring At My Tits, it says.

‘Do you like it?’ Lucy’s mum asks me. ‘I bought it at the weekend. When we went to Margate.’

Sandra takes all this in her stride. I smile weakly and tell Lucy’s mum that yes, it is certainly interesting, and I quickly retreat to my room to open the rest of the post.

Wednesday September 8th

Routines within the school are well established, and school assembly for the junior children is always at 10.00 in the morning. Assemblies are extremely important. It’s a chance for the teachers and children to get together for a positive communal experience, and our assemblies are always carefully planned. I always think back to my first teaching post in Islington, where assemblies were a complete waste of time. Classes would enter the hall, sit down quietly and then the headteacher would be summoned. We’d have a hymn, a prayer and a list of notices… which invariably included a telling off if anybody had been misbehaving. Then his deputy would play something on the piano and out we’d all go again. An utter waste of everybody’s time.

On one highly memorable occasion, when the school had scaffolding in the playground, a child had climbed up on it and to everybody’s amusement made an enthusiastically rude gesture through the window. The headteacher, who had his back to the window, couldn’t understand what the children were giggling about and, with his short temper rapidly rising, pointed out that they had about as much control over their behaviour as a tin of maggots. Worn down by a school he had no affection for, the head was close to retirement, and one of his passions was horse riding on Hampstead Heath. If the weather was bright and sunny and he turned up to assembly in his jodhpurs, we knew exactly where he’d be going that afternoon. If I ever get to headship, I thought at the time, my assemblies will never be like this…

For the first assembly after the holiday, I always talk to the children about some of the things I’ve been doing during the break. During one assembly early in my headship, I showed them how I’d been restoring a classic Mini, since classic Minis and MGs are something of a passion. I’d taken a yet unfitted car door in with me, and with a can of paint, a spray gun, and a few accessories I’d demonstrated how to put a finishing coat on it, and then shown how polishing up is done. Since the weather was still warm, the smell of the spray was extremely strong and children at the front of the hall began to cough, cover their noses and move backwards. At that time, Health and Safety wasn’t to the forefront of education, and nobody was ill, but it was a little unnerving.

Today, I explain that my youngest daughter and I had had a fabulous day out at Thorpe Park a few days ago. We both love roller coasters, and we’d ridden everything we had time for. I show the children large pictures of some of the world’s finest, including some of the scariest rides in Florida, where we’d been a few years previously. I explain how roller coasters are designed, how modern ones are very different from the old wooden type, and I show them a film of an elderly Blackpool Big Dipper taken from the front carriage, which they love. I explain how a thing called centrifugal force helps pin the riders in their seats, and I demonstrate this by half filling a plastic bucket with water, and swinging it round in a wide circle. The children at the front of the hall move back nervously, and they’re amazed that not a drop has been spilled from the upturned bucket. After the assembly, the children go off to their classrooms, chatting about their own holidays.

Thursday September 9th

The children know that in the second assembly of the term, I’ll be inviting them to come to the front of the hall and tell us what they’ve been doing during the summer. Few have been away. Their parents can’t afford it. For a nominal sum, there are play centres and clubs held at schools in the area, where dedicated people… often teachers… provide a range of interesting activities for a small daily sum. Many of our children have joined these clubs. The local library runs a summer holiday reading club, where children are introduced to good literature and have a story read to them every day. One of our children, who lives alone with a mother who suffers from agoraphobia, has never been further than the end of her street.

This morning, about twelve children volunteer to come to the front. Simon has brought in an electric car he’s made from a kit which he demonstrates on a table top. It doesn’t work for a moment, until he realises he must have the new batteries the wrong way round. Daryl, a very enthusiastic reader, has gone through a whole series of books at the library and tells us about his favourite one. Billy, whose dad is unemployed, talks about the hours he’s spent fishing with his dad, and he shows us the rod and accessories he uses, including a small tin of maggots which apparently have to be stored in the fridge. His mother must love that, I think to myself. The children offer up a suitable ‘ugh!’ in unison, especially when Billy shows how licking a maggot can cause it to plump a little and be especially inviting to a fish.

Best of all though, is Tashi, whose father is one of our school governors and a real help to the school. He’s a great dad to his children too, really enjoying their company and always finding interesting things for his family to do. During this holiday, he’s taken them all off camping in their battered old motor, and they’ve had a wonderful time cooking over a fire, playing games, fishing in a stream and lying in a field looking up at the beauty of the night sky.

After Christmas, this wonderful dad won’t be with his family for very long. He’ll be told he only has three months to live, because he has contracted a virulent form of cancer.

Friday September 10

The week has gone well, but then, the first week of the new school year always does. Each day, I visit all my classrooms to see how the children are settling down, and I often join in an activity. When I visit an infant Year 1 class, Barry is showing how he’s learned to play a harmonica, and he’s demonstrating it to the class. He’s learned how to play ‘When The Saints Go Marching In’, which, in places, is almost recognisable. I say