|The Department for Education, and it seems, Charlie and Lola.|
The raison d'etre was to take part in a Q&A with Charlie Taylor, the incumbent behaviour czar to the government, in a live recording taking part inside the DfE. The brief suggested arriving at five for a seven o'clock start, and I was wondering what would take two hours. I was kind of hoping there would be some kind of secret mission for me. Alas it was only the cover-every-eventuality turbo-planning of someone who was probably used to last-minute-Larrys goofing their schedules. Still, if there's a next time, I'm chipping up at five-to with a cheeky grin.
An estate agent would describe the interior as generously appointed. It's quite beautiful, with cities-of-the-future offices suspended around an enormous atrium. It would make, I'd like to suggest, an excellent setting for the next Die Hard movie ('Yippee-kai-ay, Mumsnetf***rs!').
|NUT 'most wanted' list.|
The waiting room was decorated (and I use the word with caution) with a chronological series of education secretary mugshots; a Butler, a Baker, an Academy Maker, that kind of thing. No M-Gove yet. But how long? The average tenure in the top chair seems to be just under two years per Grand Fromage. One more brown envelope, one more tart talking to the Sun on Sunday, one more cabinet musical chairs, and suddenly there's another A4 glossy pinned to the wall of the waiting room. Ah, momento mori.
I was hoping for The Thick of It, or at least the Office of Information Retrieval from Brazil; instead I got an open plan layer cake characterised by air, light and space. Of course the damning deal you make with the open plan is that you trade discretion for the Panopticon of the communal space. A chum at the TES described to me how their office goes onto Gove-standby when the Great Man wants his pencil sharpened or something. Pity these mortals then, who are on Def-Con Gove AT ALL TIMES. They must be in a state of permanent priapism.
Full pelt with a Tranny
The broadcast was fine- I'm happy to talk about behaviour until the universe succumbs to entropy. Charlie Taylor is, I gots to say, one of the most maddeningly reasonable men I've met in education, possibly because he knows what the f*ck he's talking about, which is often uncommon. He's that rare thing- a man talking about teaching and classroom management who has actually scaled the peaks before telling everyone else how to get there. I rate the fella, despite all attempts to find some significant dispute between us on matters of cheeky monkey management. Alas, I couldn't find a credit card to winkle into the space between our views. He also looks a bit like Clint, which should please Sir Michael Wilshaw. I have high hopes for Teacher Training.
|'Yippee Kai-ay, memo-leaker.'|
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