was still creating the conditions for learning for the coming year, I did not change my plan for you. Maybe this was naive and idealistic, but my focus was on my pupils and we had important work to do, getting to know each other and (one of the learning objectives) learning to fail. Before you turned up I had reminded the pupils that they would not be going to lunch unless they got stuck and/or made a mistake (again thanks to Jim Smith, an invaluable tip on improving progress in Maths, a subject most are terrified to make an error in). All I can remember of your 'feedback' is the fact you said: "But I can't give you outstanding because..." We both know it was an excellent lesson; that despite your stress-inducing intrusion there was a buzz in the air. However the new Ofsted Inspection Framework states that all pupils should be making rapid and sustained progress (or something like that. I know some schools are now teaching in half hour chunks in order to demonstrate this). Apparently at the moment that you checked my three sub level-four pupils, they weren't making progress. If I'd retained my sense of humour I'd have been relieved that you thought the other 23 might have been. There was no real dialogue between us, no real discussion of my objectives, and you left me with no way to improve my teaching. You had your evidence to downgrade our teaching and that seemed to be all that you were interested in. Your visit left me feeling like I'd been physically punched in the gut. Your team seemed determined to downgrade my school, despite our best exam results ever, despite a huge improvement since our last two 'outstanding' Ofsteds. I feel like I have been visited by the Nazgul or the Dementors. But it's not about me. I'm am angry, really angry, because despite the energy and time zapped out of schools, not once have I seen an Ofsted team improve the outcome for one single child. You cost an enormous amount of money and as I watched you demoralise my excellent school my heart went out to my colleagues who are not so fortunate, who work in schools where they barely survive a bullying ethos, where there is little chance of them recovering and becoming the teachers they would love to be, where there is every chance they will become another casualty in the political war against my profession. Will I still teach with the door open? Yes. Will I welcome you next time you choose to visit? Not unless you have shown improvement in the following areas: do not enter my classroom unless you are willing and open to learning; do not come to judge, it does not improve my teaching; learn to give quality feedback in a two-way dialogue where you listen to what I was trying to achieve (this encourages innovation rather than fear) before letting me know what you think went well, followed by specific ways in which I could improve. Lastly but most importantly, I need you to demonstrate a clear understanding of just how tough it is trying to inspire a love of mathematics, day in and day out, in young people. What I needed was to feel inspired; what you did was leave me completely drained, more exhausted than I felt at the end of July. And that's not acceptable because I have pupils who need me to teach them with energy and enthusiasm. I have the next generation of mathematicians to inspire. So, I have given you useful, quality feedback; I hope you are open to learning from it and improving your profession. Your remit is to improve standards in education in order to improve outcomes for pupils. You failed to do that on your recent visit to my school. I am giving you notice to improve. Until then you are not welcome in my classroom. Today's Secret Teacher is a Maths teacher in the south of England.
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