All of us in the education community have been devastated by the news this week of Ruth Perry’s death. Ruth, a headteacher who had served the profession for thirty two years, took her own life after an Ofsted inspection in which her school was downgraded from Outstanding to Inadequate. Thirty two years of service, reduced to a one word description.

Reflect on that for a moment. Ruth had served in what is widely recognised to be a tough profession for thirty two years. She had been a headteacher of a thriving primary school for thirteen years. This was not somebody who shied away from challenge or who quit easily when the going got tough. Let’s be clear. There are some situations that are so toxic that they can devastate the most mentally robust among us.

Headteachers work in a climate of chronic stress. The Ofsted framework and processes have designed that into the job. As I wrote in The Guardian in 2021:

‘As a headteacher, my vision must be maintained amid shifting goalposts. Prior to 2019, a school’s raw attainment data was enough to make or break an inspection grade. Since the new framework, it is whether your planned curriculum matches exactly what is in the books that is the deciding factor. And there has been a pandemic in between.’

Meanwhile, a crisis in children’s services adds more responsibilities and we are seeing unprecedented levels of escalated behaviour in children due to a multitude of problems in our wider society. Many Headteachers describe how they have been asked for evidence of how they hold outside agencies to account who are unable to fulfil their own duties due to lack of funding or staffing.

Despite glib comments from Ofsted about there being no need for Headteachers to prepare for inspection, that would be naive in the extreme given that the process begins with a 90-minute phone call like some kafkaesque examination, where the Head will need to set the tone and describe the school’s strengths and weaknesses with excruciating accuracy. We live each week on our nerves, as we don’t know if this will come this week, this month, or even this year. Ofsted do not deign to enlighten us with a window.

On a good day, my school is a calm oasis in a turbulent world - a place of positivity and hope. On a bad day we can lurch from crisis to crisis and it can feel like all the woes of the world are represented in our small community.

Although I work hard to spread the message that we can help our own wellbeing with the small, positive changes I advocate on this site, and I genuinely believe they can make a difference to our quality of life, I also think there are some situations where we need to stand together and say:

“No. This must stop.”