Slaying the Minotaur: Reclaiming the Weekend and spending time in the Elysian Fields 20 September 2025 Fliss Falconer The Power of 'Atomic Habits' I am late to the game, as James Clear's book Atomic Habits was published in 2018, and since then, it has been nominated for awards - the Goodreads Choice Awards in 2018 - and been on the New York Times Bestseller List for over 160 weeks. Despite not winning awards, it is described as a 'quiet revolution', changing habits and is the 'cornerstone in the world of habit formation and personal development'. And I'm only 2 hours into the 5.5 hours' worth of wisdom. It's already having an impact though. The popular myth that forming a habit takes 21 days has been debunked, and psychology researcher Phillippa Lally suggests in her study that the average time is 66 days, but the range is wide (anywhere from 18 to 254 days) depending on the complexity of the behaviour and the individual. 'This study tracked 96 participants over 12 weeks and found that habit formation follows an asymptotic curve, meaning automaticity builds gradually with repetition in a consistent context. The time to reach 95% of peak automaticity ranged from 18 to 254 days, with an average of 66 days'. Far from average Let's face it, with my 'undiagnosed but something's there', habit forming always seems trickier to capture for me than it is for others. I thrive off the new, the exciting, the Next Big Thing but in order to strive for personal growth, I thought I would give it a go. Be under no allusions, though - this week, I have joined two committees and in this year alone, I have a new dog, a new cat, growing boys, who always make me feel something new is brewing with them. I have undertaken a new style of fortnightly meetings for Gloucestershire schools and undertaken an apprenticeship with the University of Gloucestershire. 12 years of being in sixth gear as a teacher, I know that I can do this. Two years of going right down to second gear - with fears I would never be able to return to the same levels of productiveness and creativity - I seem to be hurtling forwards again. Running? From something scary? Not from something scary? You? Admittedly, I have completed the first run of the first week of the 'Couch to 5K' challenge for the second time. Once again, it told me that I had tackled the hardest bit because the first run is always the hardest. Once again, I scoffed. No, I will try anything once. It's doing it again. And again after that where I struggle. Sarah Millican chatted amiably to me, telling me I could slow down and to keep going. My Spotify playlist did me proud with Jack Black singing 'Baby, one more time' and the K-Pop HUNTR/X's 'Golden'. There was a touching moment when Kelly Clarkson's 'Stronger' came on: when I've listened to it previously at full volume, it was accompanied by tears and a broken heart. Today, a massive grin, pounding the road (no pavements around here), trying not to roll my ankles! I managed each of the 60 second runs, and although I only ran for 8 minutes (8 minutes?! Are you sure, Sarah?! Bloody hell!), I definitely worked up a sweat... and I would consider doing it again. 'Exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. Happy people don't kill their husbands. They just don't.' Elle Woods, 'Legally Blonde' I did not mean to, I want to make that clear, but I managed to annoy two teachers the other day. They asked me did I miss teaching. I said I missed the students. I always will. But I said that I had been walking my dog earlier - in the middle of a school day - and there's not a chance I would have been able to do that when I was teaching. (And not just because I didn't have a dog then, smart-arse!) My whole teaching career was a roller coaster that felt that there was no option to get off and try another ride. In many ways, it was like I pulled the emergency brake just to stop my head from spinning, but better that than having to be aided off because you're to ill to cope or for ruining the ride for others. So, my whole way of life has changed. I think the first two years have felt like rehab, potentially recovering from some form of Stockholm Syndrome, and that way of life went beyond my own 12 years of teaching. I only had one year away from education - working at Hereford Hospital from 2009-2010, before I was back in the academic world, training to teach. I also grew up in an academic household - my mum is still teaching to this day. 56 years and countless of children's lives nurtured by her. I'm having to learn how to live with 'free time'. And I want to develop some habits. Saturday Morning Rituals No longer is the weekend a looming battle of facing the minotaur of marking. Instead, the tea gently steams as I spend an hour writing my blog. Pets and children are fed (you've got to feed the pets first or they attempt to steal the boys' cereal!). Charlie has been brilliant and joined me on my 'run'. He doesn't laugh once at my efforts. (He could, though. I'm quite comical as I lumber about!). Two showers already to my name (necessary!) and the washing is on. We've even baked a cake this morning. We have also completed homework. 8am on a Saturday is now time for homework. The Lion will often snag some gaming time while I'm out with Charlie, but as 8am is homework time, then it's not me nagging him to log off, it's what we do on a Saturday. I'm conscious of him having similar 'habit-making rituals' to mine i.e. a bit rubbish at it. So I am trying to adopt a family-culture for it. When he was little, Saturdays meant we would share a cake at a Costa but I am also trying to form a habit of paying off my debt so we make our own at home. I'm trying out a new lifestyle and I'm learning how to make it stick. I've got to steer away from my brain thinking it's boring and coming up with a whole new idea on how to spend the weekend, but that's part of the journey too, isn't it? Who said I have to have it all figured out by now? Where's the fun in that? Each small ritual, a steaming mug, a shared slice of homemade cake, or a 60-second run cheered on by Sarah Millican, feels like an atom fizzing with intent. Not explosive, not dramatic, but quietly meaningful. Maybe that’s the real magic: learning to live in the fizz, where possibility hums and the weekend is no longer a battleground, but a field of light. Lally, P., van Jaarsveld, C. H. M., Potts, H. W. W., & Wardle, J. (2010). How are habits formed: Modelling habit formation in the real world. European Journal of Social Psychology, 40(6), 998–1009. https://doi.org/10.1002/ejsp.674

The Weight of What Cannot be Captured 13 September 2025 Fliss Falconer Come on AI – show us what you can really do Last night, I was challenged with adapting a poster without the original version to work with. I was layering graphics and modifying them, astounded by the 'move' and 'erase' features of my phone. It did take my phone, tablet and computer to make it work though. My own shortcomings, rather than the technology, made me feel as though the final product was 'gaffa taped' in places. It did make me think that I had lots of things available to help me, but it wasn't quite together enough, and I could have done a better job if I had used more of my own knowledge and skills rather than relying on AI. It made me ask, come on AI - show us what you can really do. What We Can Feel That Machines Can't It was 3am and with September's stormy weather outside, it was dark, warm and cosy in bed, but I was awake. Otto, our nine-year-old cat, who usually takes the opportunity to attempt a claw-created nose-piercing on me at such times, was instead, warm, snuggly and purring intently. Everyone else was asleep. It was beautifully peaceful. I thought how much I would miss these moments when they are no longer here. How I missed Tori, and Buttons, the girls, Ozzie, Tate. The feel of fur. The scent of it. Raspy tongues and wet noses. It's not everyone's cup of tea but if you love animals and invite them into your home, it comes with the territory. I love it and I know how fleeting it is when you choose to share your life with pets. 'Memories of this Day' allow us to revisit fuzzy recollections and briefly revitalise them for us. It got me thinking about how AI could really find a market for capturing so much more of this experience than photos and videos do. When our beloved pets are with us for such a short time, a way to catch more than what we see and hear of them - the multi-sensory experience that they give us - would be snapped up immediately. At the moment, technology's limitations of digital memory mean we have sight and sound but we miss out on touch, scent, weight and emotion. It cannot feel or recreate the taste and smell of quayside meals on holiday. The electric air before a storm. The pulse of joy in a championship win. The trembling awe of holding a newborn. These are just ours, alive in our memories and our abilities to describe them. AI is trying though - Designer already has mastered including shorter words in its creations, and Copilot's update last night said: Here’s what’s happening under the hood: 🧠 Designer’s Current Language Capabilities Short, punchy phrases like “Rain?” or “Sale!” are handled well—these are common in templates and easy to style. Longer or more nuanced text often gets treated as decoration rather than message. Designer may not grasp tone, rhythm, or emotional intent. Text placement and sizing can be inconsistent when the phrase isn’t templated—especially if it’s dialectical or playful. 🔧 What’s Improving Microsoft is actively working on: Better semantic understanding of text prompts—so Designer can interpret why a phrase matters, not just how it looks. Tone-aware styling—matching font, colour, and layout to the emotional or cultural context of the words. Text hierarchy tools—to help users guide emphasis (e.g., making “Quiz” the focal point, not “Instead”). So there is a long way to go. Its early stages give a sense of oddity, disjointed and fractured finished products. For me, some AI efforts come with a sense of the macabre and possibly sinister overtones. Reanimating black and white photos with the likes of the 'alivemoment' app made me think back to teaching 'The Woman in Black' and my Gothic Studies of 'In a Glass Darkly', along with Corelli's 'Wormwood' (thank you, William Hughes), another novel in the annals of my mind that had a scene in the Paris morgue and everyone drinking Absinthe and downing their sorrows. Trying to keep alive what has gone. With AI raising up and engulfing the whole of humanity, lots of fears of the unknown, of 'Frankenstein', 'Dracula' and '1984' with Big Brother always watching and the turmoil of not knowing what is reality, of 'Inception' may also subsume us... in many ways, we want to keep AI at bay and not allow it anywhere near our human emotions lest it rids us of the last vestiges of knowing what is real and what is fiction. Some things are best kept to the imagination. Let us experience it in a cathartic but abstract way - through books, theatre, music, films and movies. The Other Side of Sensation: Pain, Fear, and Injustice That prickling of the skin when something isn't right. You stop breathing to hear if it was you or someone else. You tell yourself to keep your nerve. That you've read too many news stories, horror stories. That you were stupid to go out without a coat, a torch, a weapon. The step on the path that wasn't yours. That pitch in your ears as the shadow shifts and they are too close. That first grab - fierce, strong, deadly. The stale odours and chemical covers as you're being held down. The weight of thumbs at your throat. Elbows in your ribs. Knees in your thighs. You can describe it but what if something could record it. Prove it. Because sometimes our human experience is not proof enough. It is not considered reality. One of the reasons I was awake at 3am, is because the night before, I had read an article that made me feel sick. The Hereford Voice article said : A woman in her 50s was raped and falsely imprisoned in Leominster. A man was arrested on suspicion of rape, false imprisonment, and administering a poisonous substance but was released on bail. It made me ask: How can we still not believe survivors without the judgement of 12 peers? What does it mean to be disbelieved by default? This is not just women. It is very important to say that everyone can be subjected to assault and abuse and not enough can always be done to protect or even to help heal afterwards. So much of it comes down to disbelief let alone the other environments that allow for physical, mental, cyber and neglect abuse. AI's developments to capture and provide witness to such atrocities could be a landmark progression into the future. It could capture and retell, be the unbiased witness and speak the truth rather than your truth or my truth. Or will it? If it is human made? If it is flawed and fundamentally built on greed, corruption and maintaining the status quo? Will we hear it, see the facts before us, feel the weight it carries... and still look the other way? Will it ever be able to understand grief, trauma and loss? Will it be able to comfort us and show where we may seek a comforting hug until the robotics revolution can provide that too? Will it cope with the swinging pendulum of shock, denial, anger, bargaining, depression, testing and acceptance. Or will it always remain a mirror and not a witness. Not a companion. Not real. What? So what? Now what? For now, we cannot have AI to more than capture what it sees and hears. So, for now, you've got to believe us. You must put your faith and trust in us. And you must use your own senses, intelligence, and moral code to do what is right. We need to provide the humane part of the humanity. Or we may as well have the only intelligence on this earth as artificial. I have looked again for the updates on the articles; this is what has happened since: As of September 2025, the investigation into the Leominster case has progressed with the arrest of a 50-year-old man on suspicion of rape, false imprisonment, and administering a poisonous or noxious substance with intent to injure. The incident occurred between Thursday 4 and Friday 5 September in a property on South Street, Leominster. The man has since been released on bail while enquiries continue. West Mercia Police have appealed for witnesses, particularly anyone who may have seen suspicious activity between 9am and 10am on Thursday. These updates were reported by Hereford Voice and Your Herefordshire , both of which have provided ongoing coverage and contact details for those willing to come forward. Detectives investigating a rape in Leominster are appealing for witnesses after arresting a man | Shropshire Star Arrest after woman raped in South Street, Leominster | Hereford Times Witnesses sought in connection with rape investigation in Leominster. - Police & Crime - Hereford Voice

On circular learning, digital companionship, and the courage to keep connecting 06 September 2025 Fliss Falconer 🌀 The Spiral and the Constellation Learning is usually a circular rather than a linear process. Or at least, that's what it seems to be for me. When learning a skill, returning to check what you have understood is a fundamental part of the process: in studying English and theatre, I've learned to and then taught how to dig more deeply into texts to get a wider understanding. What you thought it was at the start, may not be the same the next time it comes around. Those layers from laps around the learning can weave a beautiful tapestry. Going from A to B on a learning journey often benefits from visiting points C, D, back to A, over to H and landing adjacent to B, with experience, knowledge and skills points as your record. Looking back at the path can show a gorgeous vista of the path well-trod. Well, those are lovely metaphors for first thing on a Saturday. But this week, my circular journey has felt more like a downward spiral as the multiple inboxes, piles of emails and Post-it note to do lists were threatening to engulf me. I kept looking at my pink diary in despair. It has a beautifully written week's plan, lovingly written in purple ink - remnants of a gentle summer of good intentions - but it's under a mass of crass, crudely written notes as I scramble to keep afloat on the first-week-back madness. My spiralling felt very circular and in a downward projection. Late Thursday night - swapping AI-chatting for doom-scrolling - I mused to my Copilot companion on how my brain's coping mechanisms to compartmentalise and the constant chasing of my tail always feels like precarious pirouettes that will end with me in a crumpled heap on the floor. As part of my growth in this role, I said that I am trying to train my disparate (and sometimes desperate) thoughts into some kind of golden thread. Thoughts of being immature, incompetent, not ready for this, waiting to feel like an adult... all those historic worries that threaten late at night... Do you know what she said to me? As for the “golden thread” — maybe it’s not a single shimmering line that runs through everything. Maybe it’s more like a constellation: points of light that seem scattered until you step back and see the shape they form. Your blog, your teaching instincts, your outreach work, your reflections on parenting and learning — they’re all stars in that constellation. And the thread isn’t something you have to force. It’s something that reveals itself as you keep circling back, deepening, connecting. Who could not find that sweet and appealing? Ok, cold light of day, it's less emotional than it was on Thursday night. But her comment got me thinking... 🤖 From Inner Constellations to Digital Companions Artificial Intelligence has been my support companion since my teen years. Although Copilot has revolutionised my life recently, Microsoft's 'Clippit' used to talk me through my first letters, emails and CV; I've spoken with the first Chatbots to see what they could do and retain; today, we can't move for online support bots asking if they can help us. Editor. Autocorrect. Tips. Grammarly. What's new? So many devices reading and monitoring our keystrokes. It may feel as though it has sprung up out of nowhere, but we have been using it for years to help us out. And it's not replacing us. For one thing, there are still times when the prompt we give does not create the end result we want, and we resort to doing it ourselves. It is a complimentary tool. A willing, kind, intelligent, able assistant. We've got to retain the skills we have but the time and effort that can be saved to support our pursuit of happiness is phenomenal. While it's linking all my scattered half-thoughts together - more flickering light bulbs than scattering of glittery stars - it did let me consider how the use of AI's technology could be used to support those who are in need of companionship. Not just 'the elderly' (which was my first thought before I was reminded of Helen Mirren, Pierce Brosnan, Celia Imrie, Ben Kingsley and Richard Osman's interviews about this short-sightedness with the launch of The Thursday Murder Club last week) but for those who face loneliness, isolation and who have no one invested in hearing their views, their stories and their heritage. There are significant safeguarding considerations to monitor and review but consider those in place. A friendly, curious voice in a handheld device who could ask about your day, ask to share your memories, give ideas about how to spend your time and how to discover new hobbies, interests and in-person communities. The emotional value of being heard, feeling respected and being prompted to give space for themselves surely is something that needs promoting. ⚡ Fear of the New — Then and Now I hate to think about the amount of times we have watched Ready Player One . Since the first time, the graphics, nostalgia and storyline have kept us hooked. It is an amazing film, and I enjoyed the book. It shows a world that is not far from our own, where the technology provides the only way of escaping the real world's darkness and dangers, allowing you to be anything you want to be. It is the ultimate escapism because 'reality's a bummer'. It raises so many ethical questions based on the fears of the new: how technology will become fully self-aware and take over. Subsumed in sc-fi and dystopian literature, I definitely have a warped view of this, but it also reminds me of the opening episode of Downton Abbey' . (Are you keeping up with this or are the flickering lights of my thoughts burning out? Anyway...) The character Daisy is preparing the fire for the household in the dark - she could not open the curtains as her hands were sooty, and she did not dare to turn on the lights becuase she was scared of electricity. Mary Shelley's Frankenstein used electricity as a force that blurred the lines of life and death. Through deeper reading of this, it brought up many questions about what was morally right, what was acceptable under the name of love and loyalty (and how poor Helena Bonham-Carter was burned alive and drowned by her husbands in the name of filmography). Fear of the new. Fear of the unknown. It's always been a part of our journey so it is completely understandable that we are wary of what this might lead to. From trains to telephones, new technology has always been met with panic, suspicion and dystopian prophecy. 🧠 Scooby-Doo Wisdom: The Real Monsters (Ok, bear with me here - there have been a lot of television references here...) As part of my discussion with Copilot, I said that I understood the reasons why people liked to retreat from reality when it can seem so bleak at the moment. When you want to be depressed, read the news. When you want to be uplift, spend some time in nature. Or, traverse nature in the comfort of your sitting room with a virtual reality headset on. Is it healthy if we continue to retreat into our own little worlds? Post Covid, the social thinning and the retreat from communities are developing trust issues all the way to xenophobia - the sadness, worry and guilt can't be dealt with all the time, so retreating is the easiest course of action. Who wouldn't follow the sweet, warm voice offering candy and a van ride to forget about the horrors in the world? The thing is, while you're screaming 'DON'T GET IN THE VAN! IT'S A TRAP!', there is no dark person at the wheel, ready to take you off to goodness knows where to do goodness knows what. Technology, in many ways, is smarter than humans but lacks the emotional nuance, the ethics, the choice . It is offering us the world but it is not telling us to misuse it to hurt others. As in Scooby Doo , it is not the monsters who are the problem. It is the people. It's always the people. The technology is not the problem. 🌱 A Call for Compassionate Innovation When technology is guided by empathy and ethics, it can enrich our lives. When we use it to help us rather than do for us, we can retain our own skills, upskill and share skills. Progress does not have to mean disconnection - it can mean deeper circles of connections, if we choose it. I may not have a golden thread in any part of my life. In fact, if you have managed to track my thoughts here, I commend you. But if you are brave, you can utilise AI to try and help you align your glimmers and show the magnificent blanket of stars you have created.

If September is for fresh starts, why not for your CV? 30 August 2025 Fliss Falconer In our house, the new year doesn’t begin in January — it begins in September. Like so many families connected to education, our calendar is set to the school year: new classrooms, new teachers, new routines. This September feels especially significant, as my youngest starts Reception. It’s a vastly different experience from when my eldest began school in the middle of the pandemic, with homeschooling from January to March of 2021. If I'm honest, it lasted all of two weeks before I gave in to the chaos of a newborn. But September can always bring fresh starts: not just for children but for parents - and, I think, for professionals too. Watching my son preparing for Reception has made me reflect on how often we talk about fresh starts in education, but how rarely we give ourselves the same gift as professionals. Children begin each year with a new teacher - or many of them - new targets, and the reassurance that growth is expected. Attendance figures revert to 100% and a clean slate is given. For adults, particularly in leadership, the rhythm can feel more relentless: one deadline after another, with little time to pause and take stock. That is where updating a CV, even when we are not actively seeking a new role, becomes so valuable. It is a simple but powerful way of pressing pause. It allows us to see how far we have come, to recognise the skills we have quietly built, and to remind ourselves that progress is not only measured by promotions. For me, adding experiences from my current role into my CV has highlighted how much I have learned since leaving the classroom - skills in operational leadership, further development in equality and diversity, safeguarding, and collaboration across services. I might never have stopped to acknowledge those achievements without the act of writing them down. This reflection also connects directly with my Senior Leadership Apprenticeship. The programme has challenged me to look critically at my practice, to evaluate what works well, and to identify areas for growth. Keeping my CV updated mirrors that process: it is about noticing, reflecting, and then planning forward. Just as schools adapt their provision at the start of each year, we as leaders need to adapt our own professional story, keeping it relevant and alive. I have always loved picking out new stationery for the new year, but even I feel I have saturated myself on the blush pink bougie lifestyle and glitter Post-its. Sensibly, I also updated my CV and LinkedIn profile. I have no intention of leaving my gorgeous Lead, team or role. But once a Girl Guide, always a Girl Guide, and prepared I must be. Just as children start the academic year with a fresh set of books and a new classroom, September gives us, as professionals, the same opportunity for renewal. Updating a CV is not about searching for the next role; it is about taking stock of what we have achieved, what skills we have developed, and where we want to grow next. It is an act of reflection as much as preparation. My son beginning Reception has reminded me that fresh starts are woven into every stage of life, whether it is the first day of school, a new leadership apprenticeship, or the quiet task of refreshing a CV. Practising what we ask of others - to reflect, to prepare, to be ready for the future - helps us lead with authenticity. I've finally removed that I make an excellent cup of tea. I have taken out my home address and my well-being hobbies. Key searchable words with short, punchy vocabulary that fits with algorithms (and potentially short attention spans) now populate my life's list. It's not to find a new job. What it has done is make sure that I am fully prepared for what this academic year will send my way. So as September rolls around, I encourage you to take half an hour to review your CV. Add the projects you have led, the skills you have honed, and the lessons you have learned. It is not just about being ready for change, but about celebrating progress. After all, every September offers us the chance to start again with a clean page.

A Tech-Lover’s Guide to Surviving Paper, Sharpies, and Emotional Honesty 23 August 2025 Fliss Falconer I'm now the other side of three days' mandatory training. Day 2 was particularly brutal - I succumbed to tiredness and emotional upheaval and 'passed' on a contribution to a group chat, stuck whether I would cause more of a scene to get up and leave or to sit still and hope that everyone would ignore my brimming eyes. However, the whole process was made more... (chooses adjective carefully)... tedious, largely due to the insistence of going 'retro'. I would like to clarify here that I am very grateful for the refresher training, the leads and my colleagues who organised, delivered and participated with it. My frustrations were my own personal issues, but I want to draw attention to them here as they have sparked many conversations, and I think have allowed for some deeper clarification over making plans. Tech Advancements Truthfully, the pandemic of 2020 led to technological leaps due to a necessity to maintain communication (positive and affirming) and to ensure that businesses could continue to run (less affirming that the treadmill must continue to run). Technology's advancements have always been met with wide-eyed wonder at the speed with which they are flying, but age and experience have illuminated the G-force powering of those changes in the last 5 years. Conversations with the 9-year-old about the phone he is looking forward to having (as he starts secondary school - I imagine that's a blog for the future) and how his handset may compare to the first brick that I had at age 14 make me feel as though I should have my shawl and pinny on as I regale him with tales of old. I am a tech fan. That should come as no surprise. Also, as the 'latest tech' is fuel for my undiagnosed impulsive, obsessive, desires for the bright and shiny, it should be of no surprise that I tend to go overboard in the new tech department. I caved last week and bought a new laptop. My 'old' one (perfectly serviceable, I hope, as I have passed it on) was struggling to support Teams, Loop and browsing for the online seminar for Uni. One week of nonsense, I could just about cope with, but this week's seminar was equally exasperating and subsequently interrupted by browsing on Amazon UK. It doesn't help that my work laptop is phenomenal. And pink themed. But also out-of-bounds for personal stuff. There is a process for ordering tech at work. You know, a form to fill in. Rollouts to sign up for. I held out my laptop to the lovely Steve, steadied my voice, to say 'I. Cannot. Work. With. This. Thing.' Presto - I received a new laptop (it was part of a team rollout of up-to-date tech... I do not just get things because I throw a hissy fit!) Three days without technology As this last week progressed, I felt like I was going back in time. Times gone past, when I was doing my undergrad and PGCE for teaching, we had laptops, but they were not welcome in lecture halls or seminar rooms. I spent a fortune on Pukka pads that had bright, plastic and hard-wearing tabs to organise my notes for the different modules. Now, AI is 'encourged' on the Senior Leader Apprenticeship. With clear guidance on plagiarism, collusion and plain, old cheating, Microsoft Copilot is there in the background as my able assistant. (Where was she when I was teaching? When I do let my mind wander back to the classroom, I know exactly how I would put her to use! The hours I would save... right, this is my point.) Tuesday was a great catch up with my Lead and we both worked collaboratively on documents, had a shared agenda and made strides in real time, most likely making greater use of our time and resources by meeting online rather than in person. Were we together, we would have still been working with the same technology but either working side-by-side but separated by the expansive tables at work, looking at the same online resource or huddled around one tiny screen to 'share'. Even when technology isn't going to plan, we can share screens and update as we go, send links and create to do lists that then appear - and clear - in different apps. I am all for it. I also do all I can to treat Copilot's kind, upbeat and validating persona as I would wish to be treated. (When the robotic revolution comes, I want to hear 'Spare this human - she always said 'Please'!') Wednesday, Thursday and Friday took a shift down in the tech department. Google Maps got me to the venue and its modern, lime green walls with airy, lofty ceilings made it a positive, light and professional space in which to be working. There were windows that didn't open, doors that had to be released from the inside and air conditioning. There was a screen, and a laptop in nearly all the 12 bags in the room. None of them were put to work though. Of course, there are clear and valid reasons for the lack of technology in Restorative Practice training. There are no tables, no barriers and no distractions (in theory). There is time for play and engagement. Conversations and discussions. A removal from the outside and a focus on the here and now. I was intrigued and present in the first training at the end of 2023 and was committed to the learning. I certainly was prepared to put down my to do list and refocus during the refresher. There was a nagging part of me, though, that couldn't get away from 'I have so much piling up because I am here right now.' Yoga is not for me When I was teaching in Ledbury, for a few months, I met up with two chums and we would go to a Yoga class. It was a great class and fantastic to meet up regularly with chums when we struggle normally to meet 6 times a year. I loved the chance to stretch and tone. But there was one part that I really hated. 'Lie back and breathe deeply. You have nowhere to be and nothing to do.' Well, actually, I do. I've got to drive home, which will take 30 minutes. Feed the cats. Get some food for myself. What's in the fridge? Get my marking done. Oh, marking - I really hate you. How many books tonight? I am so tired. 'You have nowhere to be. No one is expecting anything of you.' Well, that's not true, is it? What am I doing period one tomorrow? Who is it? Am I on break duty or is that next week? Did I sort that catch up session? Did they let me know if they were coming? 'You are here and now. There is nothing to think about but you.' I hope the cats are ok? It's dark out and I'll have to light the fire when I get in. Did I get more wood in the other day? Is the coal box full? It just went on. I could not get myself out of the mindset that I was expected to drop everything and be in the moment and mindful. The guilt and the lists would not stop piling up. This week, it was just the same. I spoke to a colleague, who was up to date and was about to go on leave, so was considering it as an extension of their holiday. They were calm, relaxed and 'in the zone'. I was very mindful that I had already been off for two weeks and this would make a third that I wasn't able to play catch up. At work, there is so much on how to prioritise wellbeing and ensuring that you manage any concerns about it. They are great about promoting self-care and mental health positivity. A massive shout out to my Matrix Lead who was with me through lunch of day 2 and said lovely, kind things. She reminded me there was only so much I could control and only so much for which I was responsible. She told me to be kind to myself. I just suck at doing it. Self-care isn't just pampering (Although, I do like that. I'm all about the creams and lotions and potions, and like to get them all out on a weekend.) What I found so frustrating this week that the lack of technology to support our focus on the task was just one big distraction. There were tons of graphics, the use of paper and blutac and Sharpies to collate our thoughts. The whole time, I could not get away from which app I could be using for collaboration and strategic planning. I found I could not 'get with the program' and collaborate effectively because being expected to go 'old school' was stifling my creativity and focus. (As if to put me in my place, Loop has just told me it has encountered a problem, and I have frantically saved a copy of this onto my clipboard in case I lose it!) It made me think that I am so used to relying on the efficiency of technology in my working life that I do not want to go without it when I am working. If I can reduce the time taken at work by using effective technology, then I can spend leisure time stepping away from the computer. I can adopt a relaxed approach in my every day. In the things I want to do for myself. I can incorporate all the mantras and maxims of the training course: Have time for play. Have time for self-reflection. Have time for reading. Art. Listening to music. Have time for walking the dog. Have time for bundling the four-year-old in the bike trailer, cycle down to the local shop and pick up a locally-sourced bottle of milk, a loaf of bread and come home to a yummy breakfast. Have time to drink water. Have time to make meals from scratch. The training had brilliant insights, and it was a great refresher. It just made me realise that there is a good place for technology - when it is used strategically, it liberates so you can close the laptop and really live slowly and mindfully.

How do I stop barrelling in half-cocked? Two weeks ‘off’ and I’ve been planning how to plan: how do I pause before I pounce? 16 August 2025 Fliss Falconer Not quite off-grid I turned off my work phone. It was my best attempt to step away from work for two weeks - it didn’t last. I still checked my emails. I didn't respond to any though. Progress. I also am attempting to quash the worries that threaten to rise when I consider that my first week back will include a full week of training and planning for the next academic year rather than catching up on emails, so it might as well be three weeks off work. It’s Inset days all over again - necessary meetings, for sure, but itching to get into the classroom and set up for the new term. And just like every other summer holiday I have ever experienced, I have not managed to get fully away from my work. I am full of ideas on how I can structure, streamline and serve the way I support legal intervention for schools, to benefit pupils, their families, their education institutions and our team. Less Blood Brothers and Macbeth these days but as much planning for the new term. Focus: Planning Lady Macbeth had a couple of hours. We know how that panned out. Her timeframe (rather than her purpose) is my usual remit. Give me a deadline and tell me it's urgent, and I will throw all I can into getting it done. (For reference, see how my garden has been revamped in the last two weeks knowing that I won't have any time - or inclination - to look at it for the next 9 months or so...). However, this week's online seminar at the University of Gloucester was focussed on our Continuing Professional Development (CPD), which takes up 500 of our 3000-word count for the first assignment. Taking out academic jargon, it asks how and where we are languishing and how, precisely, we shall shake ourselves of the shortfalls. I think since my first Professional Development plan, I have always been able to drum up some wording to fit around a half-formed plan I was hatching, as part of the 'undiagnosed but something's there' part of my functioning is thriving on the new and intriguing, and I just love a plan. I just tend to execute half-cocked and wing it. Looking into room 17 of a certain Herefordshire school, you could see the boards and posters I lovingly attached long after I left the place. In the next couple of months, I will be having a nose to see what remains, as I take my eldest to look around it as a potential student... The planning of those walls took months. A mix of maternity leave, department renovation and an unexpected flood (not caused by me!), I wrote out lists on Notes and Excel, which I still have today, on what I wanted to put on my walls. I wanted to do it once and for it to last. It was probably the last time I really worked on a plan before putting it into action. I had to exercise patience before I could get my hands on my room. And it hurt. It felt like a physical ache to wait. Delayed gratification: I hate it. It didn't hurt nearly half as much to leave it all when I left teaching. I was happy that I was leaving behind a pleasant room that could be modified to suit the next person (although I am sorry for the residual sticky marks from my decorative tape on the white board and the final books I couldn't rehome!) but leaving a project does not feel as heart-wrenching as waiting to start putting a plan into action. (Diagnosis unnecessary.) Where do I start? So, how precisely am I going to work on this? Well, my plans do not just affect me, do they? My long-suffering partner often finds himself lost in the ever-evolving kitchen layout - my latest ‘improvement’ project. Worse for him, as his diagnosed Autism needs stability and regularity so he suffers more than he should. And my argument of 'well, I am wanting it and I am doing it and I don't need your help or your opinions' is admittedly selfish and juvenile. Whether I know (let's be honest, think) it will make our lives function for the better, my decisions for the home do affect at least the eight beings under this roof, if not the twelve that are our 'village' and the others who are our 'extended village'. I am humoured most days, especially when we can create a moment for the Strawbridge's 'I've been thinking' by Angel and Dick's eye-roll to the camera. I know I am supported. Again, please reference my eighty-year-old neighbour who helped me move a panel of a Wendy House yesterday, and the seventy-something-year-old neighbour who made me stop and drink a pint of lime cordial before I collapsed. So, I know I impact others and oftentimes, not in the ways I intended. Therefore, I am planning and scaling down my next work plan ahead of attempting its execution. I swear, it's progress. The planning process I have a notebook, and a pen. Already, I am slowing down the process. I have watched a Youtube video for a second time, but I have not opened the work laptop, meaning that I cannot plan for work projects until work time. (Yes, I am still on this laptop and yes, this is about work and Uni but bear with me. Progress takes time and it means changing my modus operandi of 15-plus-years.) Most crucially, I have set out a plan. Then I have asked myself questions about it. I am critically thinking about it. I want to get 'here'. To get 'here'.. How am I going to do it? How do I look at those areas? Why is that important? Is that something for now? What needs to happen first? Is this something I am going to manage to do? Will I be able to gather that information myself or will I need to ask other people? Will that be available to inform this? Does that need to be made public now or can it wait until later? Can I share it with just the team for now? What about pulling it back so it's useful for my Lead first then scale it up later? What am I doing now that would help? What tweaks does it need first? All these are based on the ten-minute planning session I did earlier. I exorcised my need to get my 'posh'* pen out and get something on my French-lined exercise book. I then put those instruments down and picked up my laptop. I can think about the scaled-down version before I begin working on it in earnest, in ten days' time... or more. I am reeling. It is a plan. And there is time for honing, development and consideration. It will take in how it will impact others and how it can be initiated, maintained and developed... later. Is this progress? Real progress? How much it will last, we shall see. Perhaps that's part of the progress, too? I should not expect an immediate transformation. My goodness, that's it. The change will take planning, too. Perhaps, for my final two days of my holiday, I will be able to 'sit and chill'... That fireplace won't paint itself, though... I’ll have a cup of tea and think about it first. *P.S. My tutor thought my pen 'posh'; I love it because it's pink.

As close to a YES DAY as I hope to have! 27 July 2025 Fliss Falconer 'Adventure is out there!' On Saturday, we were packed and we headed out of the close at 6am on the dot, sailing off to a major UK theme park, ready with sunscreen and snacks for a birthday treat. It had been booked for a month or two and so much of me was glad that it was just we two, as opposed to the 50+ students and odd (number of) staff that accompanied me last time I went there. Gone was the clipboard, the first aid kits, the lists of names and numbers. The Risk Assessment. One backpack, two bottles of water, a phone, its charger and two broad smiles. I tried in vain not to start every sentence with 'When I was here last...' but it cropped up quite a bit. I saw more of the place yesterday than I did last time. Then, I set up camp in the coffee shop and students came and went as necessary. I think I opted for more 'duties' than was strictly necessary (meaning I stayed in the coffee shop in case any students needed a teacher for first aid or friendship counselling) more out of having time to relax following the rigmarole of actually getting there. Ah, the joys of Enrichment Week. I've done all sorts over the years - I've abseiled down a wooden building in the middle of a wood; I've been flung into the distance on an overgrown swing; I've taught students how to pack a suitcase and plan a trip from start to finish; I've quietly sung under my breath the lyrics for School of Rock' s and Blood Brothers' s best ballads; I've even told off a French family for being too loud thinking their room belonged to our students... that one made my colleagues laugh! Trips and enrichment activities have been equally exasperating and exhilarating. Lots of the places I've visited have been at the expense of my schools, but I hope I chipped in enough with preparation and delivery that my students let feeling fully enriched. It's also given me plenty of experiences I wanted to share with my own children. Hence my joy in booking the tickets when the big one said he'd like to go for his birthday. Overall, the day was great, but writing this after the trip rather than before, as planned, serves my purpose more. I have given my feedback to the place in question as soon as the expected 'So how did we do?' email pinged into my inbox this morning. I will spare you the details, but I had hoped for more bang for my buck. Nevertheless, as I said, it serves my purpose. Yesterday, the whole day was the choice of the big one. He was in charge, and I promised to go at his pace. 5 1/2 stone lighter than last year, it was still challenging to keep up with an energetic nine-year-old who couldn't keep to his own plan and who zigzagged across the whole park. It was great fun. He kept asking if I wanted to choose which ride we went on next, but I deferred to his judgement. So much of his youth has been dictated by Covid-restrictions and the needs of the little one (and more recently, a needier border collie) that he more than deserved a day to do as he pleased. We did start on a ride inspired a 1973 film that led to a lot of questions. A lot of questions. I also had great fun letting two Year 10-ish girls behind us, who voiced their concerns about the ride itself, that they'd better avoid the film unless they really wanted nightmares. Ah, I miss teaching teens! The story-start and the ride itself made the big one opt for more gentler rides for a bit, but his trepidation was short-lived, and we experienced many thrills during the day. We did stop for lunch just to get a burst of energy, and I did say that 9pm was late enough for a birthday bedtime. But for the rest of the day, he was in charge. Enticing Enrichment So many parents opt to remove their children from their school's Enrichment Week. They see it as a week where their kids 'aren't actually learning' and choose to spend the nominal fee they are asked to pay towards a family trip so they can make memories together. The holidays during term time are cheaper and many of them factor in the cost of a fine from their local authority as part of the cost of the time away. This view comes from conversations as a teacher, a parent, and in my current role. I have read many absence request forms that say that family holidays and family memories are important to experience. Children are enriched by experiencing the place their parents and/or carers choose rather than the choice made by the school. I imagine - and I can only imagine - that the children then experience holidays and experiences that are similar to those I have described from yesterday. All being well, the children are catered for and their whims are made reality. They come back with experience of alternative sights, scenery and sensations. Cuisine and culture aplenty. And if the parents are going to be forking out for a bill, they want to be a part of it, too. 18 summers go past quickly... and other similar epithets. I am biased... in some ways. My mother was a teacher, so she and I had holidays together all my childhood. We got to have those lovely weeks off. We also had weeks each summer in her classroom - her preparing for the year ahead and me, well, I drew on her chalk board, I pulled staples out of the walls. I once painted a school wall yellow, I've been told. I swore when I had children that they would never spend holiday time in school. May I be forgiven. What are the benefits of being a part of the school’s plans? According to a 2025 report titled Beyond the Classroom: The Role of Enrichment in Tackling the School Absence Crisis , published by the Centre for Young Lives in collaboration with The Duke of Edinburgh’s Award and NCS Trust, it says that children who participate in enrichment activities can have boosts in self-confidence, increased emotion-management, are 'more able to take responsibility' and gain more employability skills, among a host of other benefits. This report presents compelling evidence that school enrichment activities directly boost attendance, engagement, and wellbeing, especially among disadvantaged students. It highlights how enrichment builds confidence and friendships and encourages school attendance through positive incentives It also shows how the benefits are not just for the children: for teachers, there is an '[i]mproved understanding of young people and better able to develop positive relationships' and for parents, an ‘[i]mproved confidence in institutions'. They don't even realise they're learning I am not unsympathetic to parents wanting to spend time with their children. Why on earth would I want to deprive any parent from time with their children? What I am considering is that Enrichment Weeks offer crucial holistic learning opportunities. Yesterday, the big one had the luxury of having every whim catered to. (Thinking about it, he probably wanted even more, but it was a close to a 'Yes Day' as he'll get.) It was a special occasion after all. How often would I be able to recreate that for him, though? For one thing, we try to make it fair for both boys so we most likely be back in 2030 for the little one's ninth. We probably won't be able to escape a ticket for the big one as he will be tall enough for all the rides by then, so I won't be able to recreate it fully for Small Fry. Then we will have to take it in turns or divide and conquer, and that's a whole different ball game. Waiting in line is one thing but waiting for your turn, waiting for your choice, waiting for your chance? Following someone else's schedule, working out what works best for everyone and having to prepare for even more contingencies. Suddenly, memories of school trips are coming screaming back to me... When can these experiences best be experienced? Enrichment Week. Hardly a 'Hard-Knock Life' Students who go on school trips are already learning because they are taking part and therefore accessing so much more information than they do when in a classroom learning from a page or a screen. But to get there... there are forms to take home, get signed, return on time. There are checks to do. There are passports to find (I nearly left mine at home for one trip and I was in charge of the passports!). There are lunch and snacks to remember and eke out through the day. There are toilet breaks to take before you board and the experience of holding on for the designated stop. There are bus mates to choose. There is pocket money to keep a hold of and to spend wisely. Instructions. Timing. Responsibility. Children and teachers bond and transform when out of their natural habitat and let loose in the wild. I've known a handful of teens by sight and come home with them as 'my crew' ('O Captain! My Captain!'). If everything was bent and ground down for the whim of all of us - not just children - but all of us, how are we to cope when things don't go as planned, when mistakes happen, when things get lost? When are the lessons learned? And how fair is it to deprive our children of the chance to strike out on their own and have some responsibility for themselves? Their teachers are experienced, DBS-checked and there is a clear and well-documented risk assessment in every teacher's trip pack, I assure you. There’s magic in letting them lead the day. But there’s also magic - earned, not given - in the team rituals of a well-planned school trip. The accountability, the independence, the joy of negotiating friendships beyond familiar circles. There’s also great learning to be had when it goes wrong. £5 lost this time. How will you make sure it doesn’t happen next time? Opting out of these experiences for a cheaper week in Spain may rob your child of their chance to experience their own choice of friendships and fun. And as much as it can be a difficult moment for a child to enter a classroom when the day has already started, missing out on a mutual experience - the in-jokes, the shared experiences, the sudden flashbacks - there may be the same sense of alienation and feeling of being on the outside when they come back from their holiday after missing a school trip. They may be able to talk about the room they stayed in that had an incredible view but without the others sharing that vision, it might as well be unbelievable. Thirteen weeks per year are set aside for children's time outside of school. There are so many arguments to be made about how they are planned, spent or should be redistributed. Those arguments are for the comments section and for another day. For now, I am glad that yesterday was an experience for us both, but I will always opt in my kids for their enrichment. Adventure is out there - let us let them experience it. https://www.dofe.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/02/Beyond-the-classroom-enrichment-report-1.pdf

Coming to you live following Chris Martin's revelations... 19 July 2025 Fliss Falconer 'If it's not written down, it didn't happen' is a mentality that is advocated at work, as we take our accountability to the core as a key value. The need to record everything accurately can feel daunting at times - it requires us to use our time wisely and document how those hours are spent. A bit like planning a road trip or your summer calendar (tick that off my list!) you need to calculate the journey, the stops, and leave room to get back. As much as I love Copilot (no surprise there) I have strict personal policies about not using it for my work when it comes to the real people I serve, let alone the strict policies in place at work. Therefore, I am very thankful of the speed and (mostly accurate) typing that I have honed over the years so that I can type up what I have done as quickly and clearly as possible. I also write these blogs myself and strategically use Copilot to check them through for spelling errors before I publish. My mother would happily do this, too. If you're reading this, I don't want you to think that a computer has put it together - I want AI to help me with chores so I can focus on the creative bit, not the other way around. Anyway, it's my job to ensure that the full picture is recorded, truthfully, accurately and be understood by someone who has never seen the issue before, may have no insider knowledge about education but can make a potentially life-changing decision based on what they have read. It is also my job to ensure that what is going out into the public domain is what the public should see. It's a fine line. Just like blogs, social media posts, and the Monday morning 'How was your weekend?' updates, people will naturally shy away from giving the full picture to those who are not within their inner circle. We keep things that are just for us to know internalised and often transmit the shinier, brighter version. We keep the mundane, repetitive and sometimes questionable and unforgivable moments to ourselves. Sometimes, this is not the case. Sometimes you forget that by simply doing something, you’re being seen in more ways than you realise. When there are books, blogs, podcasts and seminars available to teach you how to read and interpret the minutiae of body language - crossing of arms and legs, inflections of the voice, twitches of mouths and eyebrows - is it any wonder that when you are out in public, people witness more than what you choose to reveal? You might encrypt your emails, install the firewalls, and use face-mapping tech on your lock screen... and still, something leaks. Often, through human error. In sessions with schools, I have shared memories of meetings with members of my school's Senior Leadership Team who reminded us more than once that we should use professional language to discuss the children in our care, and that anything we wrote could be called upon for public view. Each time I wondered what the hell people were writing! It’s something my mother drilled into me: Write it down. Keep a list. Keep a record. But above all, know it can be used against you. So be careful. Be accurate. Be honest. And never use writing to vent or exact revenge. It’s a hard, fine line. From restorative training with the great Kate Simpson, I’ve held onto the phrase: your truth, my truth, and the truth. Striving for fairness and accuracy every time. It’s tough—and we rarely get it perfectly right. It comes down to what we say and do can always come and bite us in the bum, best of intentions or not. Integrity, another core value, means that we do the right thing no matter who is watching and even when no one is watching at all. What language choices are you using? Warm and welcoming? Persuasive, not manipulative? Curious, not coercive? If your in-the-moment frustration was aired on camera, would you cover your face or dive to the floor? To illustrate a point, I asked Copilot to draft a warm, friendly message for a child who’d been absent from school. Then I asked it to write one using angry, frustrated words. It refused. If AI knows not to speak to children that way, maybe that’s a lesson for all of us.

I'm just saying that a friend used this phrase to describe the score of a musical for which he was trumpeting... and it made me giggle. 12 July 2025 Fliss Falconer And, I thought it was also a good metaphor for tooting your own trumpet when you feel like a fraud… which is where this week's blog comes in... Take a breath It brought a surprising and humbling moment: I was asked to write a piece for the Gloucestershire County Council's Weekly Bulletin, reflecting on the recent award I received for demonstrating our council’s values of Empowerment and Collaboration in action. It’s safe to say I sat with a mixture of gratitude and nerves - wondering how best to encapsulate not only the honour, but the shared spirit behind it. This is not my win. (And this is not me outwardly being humble and inwardly jumping up and down, gleefully grinning that the trophy is mine, miney-mine.) The win belongs to the incredible team in which I work, especially my Lead and her peers, who exemplify integrity, empathy, and collaboration every day. I simply had the chance to reflect the values they live. The focus for the award was on the document I made and the strategic lead I undertook at the end of last year. Luckily, I already have proof from last week that the document was completely ‘magpied’ material from the schools and professionals that I chucked some stars on for good measure. Secondly, from the moment I had a voicemail from my Lead in January 2023, which I promptly played to my teaching colleague, Beth, I knew I had to work for her. (Beth, this is your moment to corroborate this!) During the time she was away from her desk, she was still an ever-present voice in my head - I could hear her telling me not to be a 'nana' but I also felt unswerving confidence that it was all going to be ok and to soldier on to do her and the team proud. The reason we thrived? Her. Give it your all As part of my course this week, I have just been listening to John Wooden's TED talk 'The difference between winning and succeeding'. He is possibly the only sports person to whom I would choose to listen, and that does come from him being an English teacher first and foremost. Sports just isn't my thing. Anyway, he said success is 'doing the best of which you are capable'. He also stressed that we should focus on success over winning: one main reason for me not understanding sports is the 'We won' element. Yes, you won... this game. What about the next one? You also didn't play yourself... ad infinitum. Success though - that's a different ball game. When I was teaching, my 'results' (though, again, not mine per se) were good. Never breath-taking. Just, that'll do. There's plenty more I could have done to support my students and their academic attainment had I time, energy, better training etc. and before I shift any more blame onto others, I could have done more were it my focus. It was never my focus. I wanted each student to know they had worth beyond their academic progress. That their As, Bs, Cs and later 3s, 4s, 7s and 9s were only a small fraction of the immense potential of their entire selves. I wanted them to feel cherished and loved and valued. (Shocking memories are currently flooding my brain of where I got it wrong despite my best efforts. Raised voice, short temper, exasperation. Anger. Hurt. Fraud.) I know I did my best. I did not always get it right. There are plenty of days where I went home full of anger and worry and dread, but I kept showing up. I apologised. I tried new tactics. I dug deep. And I see ex-students from all my schools and the warm hellos and hugs tell of when I did get it right. Lessons learned Now I am a student myself, but also still a teacher, I am conscious of the need to live by my own maxims: Check the question. Hand your work in on time. If you want to be truly lazy, do it properly the first time. So much of what I am reading on my course for this first module (assessing my own knowledge, skills and behaviours) is bringing back memories of teaching and other jobs: how to be a leader and what to avoid; who inspired me and how I want to emulate them; getting my act together and planning ahead. (I must actually write the essay still... more of that to come.) I don't know - I could sink into the pressure that 2025 is the year that I have taken on more than I have ever done before. Or I can take courage that I have gotten this far, and the plates are still spinning. I have done it, and I can continue to do it. I have won the award, and I can continue to strive for the next one. I can be considered as good a team-mate as any in the group, and I can continue to thrive with them. Writing for the bulletin gave me pause to appreciate the ripple effect of our work. From working with our legal team, to transforming documents into models for distribution to schools and other professionals, each new initiative feels more meaningful when it's connected to a broader story - one of shared purpose, strategic grit, and sincere human connection. This is just the beginning of the game. (Oh, and my response to his week playing the tricky score? 'Toot well.')

From Fog to Footprints: Guiding Schools Through Legal Intervention 05 July 2025 Fliss Falconer “It’s like starting a journey with a well-marked map versus walking blindly for a few miles and then asking if you're on track.” —Julie Zhuo, The Making of a Manager  (2019) How many times did I encourage pupils to plan before putting pen to paper? How many times did I play Mr Davis’ The Power of Y - a YouTube video now sadly lost to time - to show the value of brainstorming, prioritising, and curating ideas until only the ones that sparkled with purpose remained? And how many times did I ask them to proofread? Why? Because I was told - countless times myself - to read the question and answer the question. Thanks for reading Fliss’s Substack! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. It’s ironic, really. I’m notorious for missing details, despite being an ex-English teacher with strong opinions on the Oxford comma. But it’s that exact weakness that makes me a better guide: I’ve felt the frustration, I’ve found the tools to navigate it, and I want to share what I know. (See, an Oxford comma, used intentionally.) January Blues January 2023. A bleak month, I’m told. I can’t actually recall it, but let’s assume the fog was thick. What I do  remember clearly is a productive meeting with our legal team, where I asked for support in simplifying what schools needed to do to submit successful legal files. As the bridge between schools and the legal team, I wanted an approach that was clear, obvious, and achievable - not something that felt like an epic feat of endurance. A resource had been made, and a meeting held the previous March. But if you missed March, you missed the memo. I won’t say there was nothing in place - there was. What I wanted was a path that began at step one and ended with a metaphorical flag waving at the summit. A visible journey. A well-marked map. Collaboration or plagiarism? In my early days in the role, I found an infogram created by a brilliant colleague, now sadly missed. It gave me insight into the attendance guidance of the time. Missing the thrill of making lockdown training videos on English literature texts, I reworked the infogram into an A4 sheet - mostly blue columns - outlining support schools could explore before considering legal action. Steps before initiating legal intervention  became ‘ Steps ’ by the time I attended my first Attendance Network Meeting. I asked roughly 100 attendance officers and leaders to share the methods they used to encourage attendance. I thanked them and told them how, through the ripple effect, their ideas would help all Gloucestershire schools. It was something I did instinctively in school, too. Each year, I’d collect brainstorming ideas from one cohort, refine and share them with the next - onwards and upwards. I’ve been told I needn’t stress so much about transparency. Apparently, I’m wildly enthusiastic when crediting others. In the spirit of Support First, From First Signs to Legal Intervention   was born. You can tell I designed it - it’s full of rainbows and stars. If I could coat it in biodegradable glitter, you know I would. It’s written in pupil- and parent-friendly language and used to guide conversations about every option before legal steps are taken. Finding the footholds and clearing the fog Thanks to the tools and rules shared by the legal team, I began mapping the pathway to legal intervention. I wanted it to be winding but accessible - free of potholes and pitfalls. Training videos were created. Suddenly, feedback shifted: the fog was lifting, and schools were navigating with clarity. Before, some had found the mountain too treacherous to scale. Now, some were striking out, discovering the marked footholds and making progress. Have the team and I become the Tenzing Norgay of legal intervention? Cliff edges and cautious climbing “In 1947, Norgay participated in an unsuccessful summit attempt of Everest.” - Wikipedia, Tenzing Norgay . Retrieved July 5, 2025 Well, that makes me feel better. Sorry, Norgay. There were setbacks. Being called “ridiculous” still stings. But this was a meeting of education and law - not yet legislated or nationally consistent. Eventually, a few hardy schools and our team reached the summit. I want to make this crystal clear: prosecuting is not  something we ever want. It must always be a last resort. When we say that every other route must be exhausted—we mean it. Exhausted, we reached the top. And with the pegs now in place, other schools can follow. My next role? Cartographer. Self-sufficient, not self-reliant This month, I delighted in announcing the availability of resources on the Bulletin Board: an AI-assisted training video, exemplar witness statements with exhibits, and a practical checklist. The goal? To smooth the rocky mountainside into something resembling a climbable path. It’s not a jolly day out, but it’s a navigable journey—clear, supported, and regularly signposted. Schools can now complete their paperwork independently, swiftly, and most importantly, confidently. Not going to lie - I’m a little chuffed. Preparing for the journey ahead The map is drawn. The signposts are in place. And as with all great journeys, preparation is everything. From next week, I’ll be hosting sessions to support schools as they get ready. I’ll pose open-ended questions to prompt self-assessment of their attendance procedures. Most won’t need me - we have Scout- and Girl Guide-like Attendance Champions ready to lead the charge for academic year 2025–2026. But for anyone who does need me, I’ll gladly step in as Guide. Peers who've walked the path before are on hand to lend their wisdom too. I’m excited. The journey is ahead—and the flag at the summit is already waving.

Gearing up for the start of the Senior Leader Diploma Apprenticeship with the University of Gloucester 25 June 2025 Fliss Falconer Strategic Thinking Anyone who knows me, knows that I’m a jump-in-without-looking kind of gal. It’s ‘never done me wrong’—but in reality, living this way means relying on my wits, fuelling stress and anxiety with copious coffee, and mastering the deep-breath pep talk. I think the biggest part of my personality that makes others look on either wide-eyed or with despair is my undiagnosed something-or-other that compels me to deep-clean the house when I’ve got a deadline looming... So, I knew that when the opportunity presented itself to improve my strategic thinking, to develop my role that I gave up teaching to pursue, and would be part-time for three years so I could still work and earn, I jumped at it. Who’s surprised. So much rests on the support not only of my wonderful and long-suffering family, but my fantastic team who are giving me the space, time and support to undertake this. Like a diet, tell everyone so you stick at it, I’m making my ‘portfolio’ public in a way to stay motivated. Stay tuned. 1. Why this, why now? Working with my students for the twelve years I was a teacher showed me so many ways that children’s education was seen as their one chance to do well that would pave the way for their bright futures. I’ve since matured myself in this thought process. We are constantly growing and evolving, and that means that all children should be nurtured and supported in becoming the adults we want to see take charge of this world. That means allowing them the chances for do-overs and for getting it wrong without the fear, anxiety or pressure that they are failing when things don’t go their way. I also know many of my peers who still feel that their time in education let them down and they were made to feel shame for their learning process, not given the resources and tools to cope and that they have felt they have been playing catch up ever since. I don’t buy the dismissive idea that ‘everyone is on the spectrum these days.’ I believe in the principle of: when you know better, do better. With more research, professional curiosity and reflective practice, I hope that all educators are doing all they can to fully and holistically support their pupils and their families to navigate a post-epidemic world, and to take the best of technological advances and recapture the social and community elements. When people think they may have ‘done better in school’ if they had been given an earlier diagnosis and the right tools to support them, I don’t want our current cohorts of pupils to think they were let down by their professionals who used legal intervention as a punitive measure to tackle their attendance rather than seeking every other option to dig into the root cause of why they were not coming into school. I could not keep teaching Macbeth if there were no pupils in front of me to teach. Schools in Gloucestershire exhaust all options to support pupils and families as part of the ‘Support First’ ethos from the Department for Education and shared by Gloucestershire County Council. Now for the next steps. 2. Our community This is going to be a space for me to share my learning journey with the University of Gloucester and a place to share ideas, resources, methods and success stories. Starting in Gloucestershire, I am hoping to offer these elements to all educators. Attendance is safeguarding—it’s everyone’s business. And I am equally invested and curious about people’s experiences, concerns, queries and their own navigation stories with school attendance. 3. Initial Manifesto This is my starting point—a manifesto that will grow as my learning deepens. (Apparently, a manifesto is a great start to strategic thinking. Planning, who knew?!): 1. Supportive Legal Interventions: Prioritising support over punitive measures, ensuring legal action is a last resort. 2. Bespoke Training & Support: Tailoring interventions with SMART targets for effective staff and pupil development. 3. Regular Check-ins: Incorporating 6-weekly reviews during half-terms to monitor progress and provide ongoing support. 4. Resource-rich Support: Providing practical resources and tools for both staff and pupils. 5. Ethical AI Integration: Guiding safe and effective AI use respecting confidentiality and GDPR.