Eight years is a substantial time to be out of the workforce, particularly with such a fast evolution of technology and systems. In 2005 when our youngest son was about 14 months old, my husband’s freelance design work almost dried up unexpectedly and we were very worried about our financial situation. I suggested that I could return to work part-time and he could take on the childcare whilst still being able to work on any projects he had. The oldest three children were all at school full-time.
I hadn’t applied for a job for about 14 years so it was a very daunting prospect. Completing the application and CV wasn’t too bad but the thought of an interview terrified me. I went for a couple of interviews, both for jobs in the public sector. One of them was a ten minute walk from home. I was interviewed by a panel of three managers and I was so flustered. Whenever I’m nervous I always get really flushed and blotchy around my neck. I remember by the end of the interview my neck
And upper chest were bright red! I had asked my previous boss if she would be happy for me to state her name as a referee and she gave me one of the best tips I’ve ever had for an interview. I said I was worried about questions relating to hypothetical scenarios, such as “what would you do if this happened?” and she said to me there’s always a way to draw on previous experiences so, instead of saying “I would do this”, say “I had a situation once where this happened….” and give an actual example. I must have performed okay in the interview as I was offered that particular post which was in, what was then called, the 16 Plus Team, a service supporting care leavers. Unfortunately they were unable to offer me the position part-time so I had to decline. I just couldn’t manage full-time with four children and any additional child care costs would have rendered it financially unviable.
However, a few days later I got a phone call from one of the managers who had interviewed me. He said that they had all been very disappointed that I’d been unable to accept the job and wanted to know if I’d be interested in an alternative position which was part-time but based in Hailsham (about 12 miles from home). I gave it some thought and decided it wouldn’t hurt to go along for the chat with the manager of the service. It was a specialist team which straddled both Children’s Services and Education – The Education Support Team – ‘TEST’ for short. The aim of the service was to promote the education of looked after children (LAC) and previously looked after children (PLAC), e.g. children who were adopted from care or subject to a Spacial Guardianship Order (SGO) and to raise their aspirations to achieve in further and higher education. Specific support for looked after children is essential if they are to thrive.
As much as I don’t want to turn this into a dull account, I think it’s relevant to give it some perspective. With so many barriers to face in their lives already, children in care perform well below their peers in education. Although some do well, looked after children as a group have poor experiences of education and very low educational attainment. Their educational outcomes, in terms of the proportion who reach the average levels of attainment expected of seven, eleven, fourteen and sixteen year olds, are significantly lower than for all children.
A relatively small number of looked after children progress to higher education but this is an area which is definitely developing. When I first worked for the service there were more discussions around how many young people had received prison sentences than had gone to university. 17 years on it is a much more positive picture with some wonderful success stories of young people gaining high level degrees, even Masters degrees, or having big accomplishments in their careers.
The main reasons for the significant gaps in achievement are that their lives are characterised by instability, they spend too much time out of school, they don’t have sufficient help with their education if they fall behind, their primary carers are not equipped to provide efficient support and encouragement for their learning and development and they have unmet emotional, mental and physical health needs that impact on their education.
I don’t want to bombard you too much with boring statistics so here’s just a glimpse of the picture. In 2019, 37% of looked after children in key stage 2 reached the expected standard for reading, writing and maths compared to the national average of 65% for non-looked after children. At key stage 4, in the same year, looked after children had an attainment 8 score of 19.1 compared to 44.6 for all children.
Also highly significant is that looked after children are almost four times more likely to have a special educational need and almost nine times more likely to have an education, health and care plan (EHCP) than all children. In 2019, 55.9% of looked after children had a special educational need compared to 14.1% of all children and, unsurprisingly, the most common primary type of special educational need for these children is social, emotional and mental health.
When I first joined the team, individual children were referred to the service by their schools and caseworkers were assigned to work 1:1 with those children/young people. The amount of support varied depending on the circumstances but as a small team there was a limit to how many could be supported at one time. It was very different to how we work now and there were highs and lows but it was anything but boring! I’ve got a few stories to share which I believe will stay in my memory forever.
My very first 1:1 support was with a year 3 child. He was the middle child of three siblings and the only one of the three who did not have a learning disability. He used to disappear under the classroom desks when he was anxious and the class teacher struggled to engage him. His background was as horrendous as it gets and it was no wonder he couldn’t engage in his learning. He hated it if I paid attention to any of the other children in the class and used to say “Mrs Hammond is mine”! I used to take a lot of resources with me, including a laptop, and I ended up buying a shopping trolley bag to transport everything. As they got to know me better the friendly ladies on reception used to call out “Here comes the trolley dolly!”. It can be strange working in a school when you’re not one of their own staff as you are an outsider. The key staff such as the SENCO or the designated LAC teachers would be very personable but, to most people, you were always just a visitor. There were occasions when I’d have to bite my tongue. I was once sitting in a staff room and a lady said to me “How are you finding working with X?” and I replied “Great! He’s lovely”. She then said “Don’t you find him rude? He’s always saying I don’t care” What I really wanted to say was “Do you know what that little boy has been through in his short life? What hasn’t happened to him isn’t worth talking about” but of course I had to remain professional and respect confidentiality so I just said something along the lines of he’s okay with me. Aside of confidentiality I truly believe that we should work on a ‘need to know’ basis. Of course some information has to be shared if it involves a high level of risk but still only to a select number of people. As far as I’m concerned all anyone else needs to know is that a child has been taken into care for a reason. Whatever that reason is and to whatever extent they may be emotionally impacted by their experiences, they have been removed from their families to live with strangers (in most cases) and surely that’s enough to have some understanding of how anxious and frightened they must feel. So I’m not ashamed to admit that my tolerance levels are put to the test by anyone who appears to completely lack compassion and who is seemingly offended by the nonchalant response of a vulnerable child.
One of my most challenging assignments was a six year old girl who attended a catholic primary school. The first day I met her, the taxi transporting her from her foster placement was late so I was already there when she arrived. I’ll always remember how this tiny little human being with a larger than life personality barged through the entrance doors and literally marched past me as I attempted to introduce myself. I said “Hi! My name’s Mrs Hammond and I’m going to be working with you” with which she replied, without stopping, “Well, f*** off! I hate you!” Hmmmm….not the best start! Anyway, I said “I tell you what, I’ll just follow you to your classroom shall I?” and, relatively composed, that’s exactly what I did! It didn’t take too long after that to engage with her but, like with all children with a background of trauma, building up a trusting relationship would be a very gradual process. Why should she trust me when so many of the adults in her life had let her down in one way or another? Although academically behind, she was as sharp as a tack and you definitely couldn’t pull the wool over her eyes about many things. She could be affectionate and tactile but also complex and unpredictable. It was really difficult to identify her triggers. If she wasn’t subtly moving in for a little snuggle she was kicking me in the shins. I think she liked me more often than she didn’t so that was good enough for me! She certainly didn’t like sharing me with any of her classmates. Her peers really seemed to accept that she needed support and they were generally very kind. I don’t know if that’s just because children of that age tend to be quite egotistical and concentrate more on their own needs or maybe that the cohort had a high level of need across the school and she didn’t always stand out from the other pupils. However not everyone appeared to be quite so inclusive. At ‘carpet time’ she was allowed to sit on a chair because she simply couldn’t manage to sit still on the floor. There was an older teaching assistant who surely must have had some idea of this little girl’s sad circumstances but she said to me “there shouldn’t be exceptions” to which I replied “on the contrary, for some children there have to be exceptions”. I felt very sad that anyone could be so lacking in compassion that they could not see past the disruptive behaviour of a small child. One morning, as soon as I arrived, the class teacher said to me “We are taking the class to church this morning and we thought you could bring X”. I almost laughed in her face! This is a child who tries to get out of moving vehicles and you want me to walk down the road with her! To be fair the church was literally at the bottom of the road. Even so, I thought “they’re not daft!” – well and truly stitched up! I bet they wouldn’t have taken her if I hadn’t been there that day. But I was there and she deserved to be included in every activity and outing. So, deep breath and….I’m not religious….but a quick prayer that (a) we would both make it there in one piece and (b) she wouldn’t demonstrate her colourful range of expletives in front of the clergy! As it turned out she was as good as gold and I was so happy that she’d had that opportunity and experience. Sadly, despite the highest levels of support she was ultimately permanently excluded from the school. Yes, you did read that correctly, not only exclusion of a six year old but one that was in care. Discussions and meetings ensued in an effort to overturn the decision but to no avail – it’s one thing being up against a board of governors but when they also bring in the Diocese you are doomed to fail. I’d love to tell you that there was a happy ending for this little girl but she was very let down by systems and a lack of understanding of so much disruption and stability at such an early stage that unfortunately she continued to vote with her feet and never managed to settle in any education setting, including alternative provisions.
I also worked with a little boy in a rural school who I nicknamed ‘Forrest Gump’ as he used to literally run all round the school and rarely wore his shoes! He was 8 years old and was well behind his peers academically. He also had a very noticeable speech impediment which must have been very frustrating for him but he was actually very patient when anyone struggled to understand him. I remember one time when I thought he was talking about a train. I kept repeating ‘train’ as I thought that was what he was saying. In the end he just said to me “No! One of those tall things up in the sky that picks things up!” and I said “Oh crane!” He just shrugged it off and carried on with his story! Similarly to my previous anecdote, the school had planned to take the children to their allotment down the road from the school and asked if I could accompany the child. Now it’s one thing keeping a child safe a few metres down a quiet school road in a residential street but this particular school was on a main A-road and this boy liked to run! Can you imagine the risk assessment?! He was fine, but me? It’s a wonder I didn’t break any bones in his little hand I was holding on so tightly! On another occasion the class had a trip to the ‘Gray-Nichols Cricket Bat Factory’ in the local town. It was very interesting and I felt privileged to have been asked to go with them. It was followed by a walk around the town and my little ‘charge’ wanted to chat to all the shopkeepers and was delighted when they paid him the appropriate attention. As he got to secondary school age his behaviour became unmanageable for mainstream and he completed his schooling in a specialist provision.
I have too many stories from that time to include them all but I do have one more that happened at a later time when we were no longer working 1:1 with the children. It was just a coincidence that it happened while I was there. I had a meeting about a different child at the primary school and, on arrival, I spotted a member of staff frantically rushing around the staff carpark in a panic. They couldn’t find one of their pupils who happened to also be one of ‘my’ looked after children. She was as bright as a button and quite a character. What she did that day proved exactly how clever she was. After literally searching high and low they finally found her. She hadn’t left the school premises after all. She was sitting motionless in one of the cloakrooms with her back tucked neatly against the wall and was wearing a coat, including the hood, back to front! Absolute genius! I mean, it’s not funny when you think a child may have absconded from school but how can you not admire the ingenuity and resourcefulness of one so young?! Whatever obstacles life might throw at her, I couldn’t help thinking that she would find ways to overcome them.
“Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.” – Albert Einstein.
To be continued….
Hoping for a Happy Ever After 
This made me really smile as I remember who your taking about
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