All the children have to walk past my office on the way to lunch. Some days the children walk calmly and quietly, little joys of politeness. Other days they're fucking mental and it's like the Pamplona Bull run. It's bizarre.

The busier school gets, the more you have to think about, the more your mind races, the earlier you wake up, the less sleep you get, the more tired you get, the longer the day becomes, the more you do, the more you think about school, the busier you get.

More advice for those making SEND decisions: - a national, understood definition of what SEND is - SENDco need more, clearer training - one format for all paperwork, used nationally by all schools - LAs stop outsourcing places, using the money saved to invest in new provision As a start.

Visited a great special school today, and it was a valuable use of my time. One thing that struck me, however, was that there are about 20 children in our school who would not be out of place in that setting. Many of our children are, in fact, in greater need.

So yes, expose all children to the very best: take them to the theatre, watch films, go to the ballet, watch a concert, display the emotion of these wonderful pieces of art. But don’t give them the text and expect them to write an essay on it, because you’ll put them off for life.

One of the most damaging trends of recent years is that adapting curriculum is somehow lowering expectations. I’ve had conversations with smart arse advisors or inspectors who, noticing some children doing something different, have commented…

If you were tasked with designing a fully inclusive curriculum, where would you start? What is absolutely key? Please repost for coverage. #send

For the record, Ruud has already told me not to speak, not to point at people and definitely no laughing out loud.

It's the mix of confidence and fear that I love seeing in students. They have that strident belief, they think they're adults. But I can't help but see the slightly scared child sitting, if you look carefully, right behind their eyes. It's marvellous.

Here at Loughborough with Rudi. So many shiny, healthy, beautiful faces all at the start of their journey in life. Such how, such expectation and excitement. They'll learn.

open.substack.com/pub/johnsonp... (This isn’t really in keeping with my normal substacks)

For years I’ve known that week 3 of autumn term is the worst week of the year. Week 1 is a blur, week 2 a honeymoon, week 3 staff & children both come to see the challenges ahead and understand the work involved. The kids realise: this is it. Well this week proved me right, again.

Tell you what, the world would be a much better place if everyone played cricket and rugby, listened to Jimmy Hendrix and classical music, and played crib every now and then.

Do you mind if I use your Ofsted picture of their huge mistake please @suecowley.bsky.social I want to post it but can't message you to ask you.

My very simplistic opinion. Pressure is building and people are under a spell of collective madness. Something huge and dreadful will happen, then people and leaders will wake up, look around, realise, and make solemn promises that 'nothing like this should ever happen again'.

I still don't know who half these kids are. Three boys walk towards me. Are you Reception, I ask one of them. No, he says. So you're Year 1, I say. No, he says. You're one or the other, I say, I'm sure you're Reception. I'm Virat, he says proudly. Of course you are, I sigh.

There we have it, the 9th September, a new record! This is the earliest ever time in a year that someone has told me that there is snow on the way, and that it is going to be a really bad winter.

Claire walks in, straightens the rug, puts her shoes together, adjusts a picture on the wall, draws the curtain exactly to the middle, pushes the sofa slightly, reorganises the cat's mat and cleans the kitchen counter. I think our yoga teacher has OCD', she says. How about that, I say.

Two year 1 girls come running round the corner and crash into me. Both hit the floor. That's why we don't run, I say, after picking them up. Sorry, they say. Just don't run, girls, I say. Ok, and they walk down the corridor. 5 yards down, one says to the other, who is he?

@batshitcrazy.bsky.social these were my posts about it, ha…

And I know that sounds bitter, and I know the arguments and blah blah, and I know you’re all laughing, but by fuck it winds me up.

On the last day of term, at 6.45am I was clocked doing 34mph outside my house as I went to work, and rightfully received a ticket. It is a little galling, however, when bikes go past me at about 90 every single day (and it continues most nights) and not a speed camera in sight.

Went to a squash reunion today and it was a bit of a shock, made me realise how much covid affected people. We won the league in 2019, but haven't seen them together since lockdown. I got long covid and other bullshit, one lad has a pacemaker, one never bothered playing again..

We take Alex back tomorrow; this summer I’ve noticed something is a little different. Last night his girlfriend asked where the pepper was, he replied ‘they keep it in that cupboard’. The word ‘they’. I know it’s natural, and good, and healthy, but I almost wept.

Sat watching the news, and I feel like Arthur Wellesley, shouting ‘Who? Who?’ from the back of the room.

I hate emptying the dishwasher in the morning. So imagine my delight when today I found it already done. Cheers Ruud, I beam. I won't do it too many times, he says, or you might get used to it. Is that fucking right, I say, you might get used to free food and board you cheeky get.

It hurts.

Last day, so I’ll have yoghurt and granola for breakfast, do some breathing and then some yoga, read my book (‘How to inspire and be inspired’) and then attend my crystal allotment, before going for a 5k run/power walk. Yeah right, of course I will.

Last day, so I’ll have yoghurt and granola for breakfast, do some breathing and then some yoga, read my book (‘How to inspire and be inspired’) and then attend my crystal allotment, before going for a 5k run/power walk. Yeah right, of course I will.

And then, just like that, it was autumn.

I love him dearly, but Christ on earth Rudi winds me up sometimes. It's like he's used a fucking spoon...why? Why?

But joking apart the course was very good and I was given some stark reminders. Which I shared with rudi as he was leaving the house to drive to the gym. 1,800 people die every year on our roads, I shout. Will you stop, says Claire.

In the meantime, Albert (Hampshire) has been eating for about an hour. When he’s asked a question about technology in cars, he starts to cough. He’s choking, squeals Doreen. Are you ok, asks Paul. He needs to drive himself to hospital, I say, I wonder if he’ll speed.

It’s when we are discussing braking distances that Zac finally blows. In my case, he says… Go on Zac, I say. They changed the speed limit and didn’t tell anyone, he says. I bet there were no signs, says Raj (Luton). No there weren’t, he shouts. Doreen, I ask, what happened…

As we look for hazards on an urban road, Zac escalates his scenarios. What if she’s got a gunshot wound, he says. That’s a good point, I say (more glaring). That is something you’d have to decide but we try not to deal in hypotheticals, says Beth. Why were you mad, I ask Doreen.

Zac then began a series of scenarios where you might speed and it be acceptable. What if your child has a head wound and they’re bleeding, he asked, and you have to get to hospital. What if she’s choking, I added helpfully (and received a glare from Beth).

Meanwhile, Doreen was laughing because she had actually been caught twice in the same week by the same camera. Were you angry again, I asked, what had she done? That might be for another time, said Beth (the facilitator).

We were asked what the speed limit was for certain roads. Paul (from the London area) said it was 80 mph on a motorway, so I could kind of see why he was here.

Whereas Zac (from an undisclosed rural location) was clearly seething from the start and we all knew couldn’t wait to tell us the mortal injustice he had faced and why he shouldn’t really be there. Sure enough, after 5 minutes he asked ‘what happens if the signs aren’t clear?’.

On the plus side, I had a speed awareness course today and it was great. Doreen (from Bradford) went early and admitted she was caught speeding because she was angry with her grand daughter. Why, I asked. That’s for another time, said Beth (the facilitator).

The world has gone fucking mad, the sooner we get back to school and the MPs back into parliament the better. 24 hour news channels don’t help this, some of the shite they fill their time with are insane. People feel they need to fill a void. I think people need more hobbies.

Well I just went to sort my shirts and trousers for work and just opening the wardrobe caused me to have a lie down. It's been a long summer.

I can't help it, I have to post this. Don't laugh, and I don't want any smart arse comments, but this is me and Matt in Reeth in 2009. I think I'm wearing the same fucking T-shirt.

Looking back down Arkengarthdale towards Reeth. Last day today, but it's been so good...

And it has to be done. Sat outside and it was freezing ..

I love upper swaledale with all my dodgy, feeble heart.

Matt's dad died a couple of months ago, but he lived in Portugal. As the only child he has to fly out and sort things out. He's just booked a flight for next week and he's booked the wrong day and I haven't laughed this much in ages. Head of an outstanding school, but stupid ass dumb at times...

And then we drop into Reeth again... I have so many photos of that goon walking ahead of me.

Right, no one wants any trouble. I'm knackered, and you look edgy, but let's not turn this into a bad day for all of us. You move one way, I'll move the other way, and we all walk out of this situation just fine.

We stop for lunch, Matt is telling me about a failed Head that became a safeguarding guru (in his own head). I just work hard, he says, but I don't have the gift of the gab. Whereas I, I say, am supremely good at both. He sighs. With the bonus of also being a comedian, I add.