“More is lost through indecision than wrong decision.”
Recently, I’ve been watching reruns of the Sopranos on Sky Atlantic, which is not only my favourite TV show ever, but is often heralded as the greatest series of all time. In the episode ‘Whitecaps’, Tony Soprano, heeding the advice above, rushes into the purchase of an expensive beachside property, only later to call it off because of the revelation that the discovery of his infidelity has put his marriage in dire straits. It looks likely that he will lose a sizable deposit on the transaction, until he enlists two of his underlings to play loud, obtrusive music from his boat outside the seller’s house. The seller reneges, largely because of his partner’s despair at having to listen to this constant intrusion, and Tony gets his money back. Had he waited, however, he would never have had to go through such a rigmarole. Of course, had he not cheated on his wife, he also would have avoided such a complex situation.
Just because advice is incorrect in one situation, doesn’t make it wrong in another. For crisis management, as I experienced at home this weekend, it was actually the right way to go. At the start of last week, my daughter developed some yellow goop in her eye. The same happened around the same time last year, and it was horrendous. Her eyes became so encrusted over one night in particular that her mother and I had to use a damp cotton wool pad to treat them extensively just so that she could open them. Throughout this whole debacle, she was wailing her lungs out, which, as I’m sure any parent will tell you, is not the most pleasant experience. This time, her case of conjunctivitis is not as severe, but her aversion to the eye drops which we are administering to eradicate the virus seems to have multiplied tenfold. Now even the sight of the eyedrops box reduces her to hysterics, during which she vulnerably announces ‘I scared’. The anticipation is torture for her. She has to then be pinned down throughout as she struggles and bellows her displeasure. The quicker this is over, the better of course - and my wife and I are satisfied with the drops going in the general vicinity of their targets. Pleasingly, she recovers from this turmoil fairly quickly. Nonetheless, this morning brought relief - it's not our problem now, the nursery can handle it.
This year, I’ve taken on responsibility for discipline at the College. It’s probably one of the areas which I must admit to having felt least confident about going into September. I had it in my mind that one had to have it within their capacity to rule with an iron rod to find success in this area, and Stalinist tendencies are not really part of my repertoire. I’ve since come to see that this isn’t necessary - being firm and fair in your application of an agreed set of rules is all that matters - and though it is useful to turn on the hairdryer once in a while, a la Sir Alex Ferguson, one should never display constant rage. I noticed early on in my teaching career that the members of staff who seemed to be constantly shouting in class were the ones who struggled the most to control behaviour. There must always be room to escalate - and students must be aware that a teacher has another level, which they really don’t want to see. I’m reliably informed that my venomous tone in the assembly on Wednesday was particularly apt given the circumstances.
This week we’ve had some disruption to a few of our online lessons. It seems that as remote learning has commenced and evolved, so too have the ways and means of misbehaviour within them. Under the shroud of anonymity, a student happily ‘bombed’ Google Meets, japing around, apparently for a laugh, undermining the crucial learning which was ongoing. I was thinking the other day just how much technology has developed in such a short space of time. I didn’t own a mobile phone until I went to university when I was 18, and my abiding memory of the device was carefully counting the remaining characters available of a text message so that I didn’t incur an extra 10p charge. I didn’t have access to the internet on there, and, to be honest, the heavy ‘brick’ was more of an inconvenience than anything else. Now we have VPNs, hacking and fraud - and the thoroughly depressing repercussions which come from that. Fundamentally, it’s all about trust - particularly at this time. Parents must be able to trust their students to get on with their studies because their eyes can’t be on their sons or daughters constantly. Teachers must trust their classes to get on with the work set without their full presence. Peers must feel part of a supportive environment where their fellow students help them. Of course, ‘There’s always one who tries it on’ - at least that’s what my mother always used to say.
With all of these new techniques to disrupt, it can be easy to get carried away for students, forgetting that any online activity leaves ‘footprints’. That’s why it has been so important to stay one step ahead of would-be disruptors. Many of our students naively had passwords which were ridiculously easy to compromise, but they are not in place now. And thanks to IT support, I’ve been able to collate an expansive range of evidence to successfully apprehend the culprit, along with the testimony of those several of those students who I can trust. Of course, we are navigating a whole new world in terms of teaching, learning and security within the lockdown - but the same disciplinary process applies: firmness and fairness. Strange times call for strange measures, and I’ve had to invoke somewhat of a reverse suspension. With the support of the student’s mother, I’ve decided that they will be best punished by having to be in College, doing their work on paper and with no access to a phone, a laptop or any kind of connectible device. They will, of course, have to have regular Covid tests, just like all staff, but this will be the state of affairs until they fully atone for their wrongdoing.
For my part, more is not lost through indecision than wrong decision - and in many cases acting too fast can bring calamitous results. I often find the best way is to pause - to take a breath and wait until you are, beyond any shadow of doubt, sure - then be as decisive as you can be once the right path becomes clear. This applies to the application of eye drops, or indeed to the maintenance of acceptable levels of student conduct in the College.