Old before time

Amazingly, I managed to have lunch today in the staff dining room. Sounds normal enough but I generally don't have a proper sit down lunch and tend to spend the hour catching up with duties. So, today was different.

I have to say that there's something special about traditional school cooks and Mrs Briggs is no exception. Her team of kitchen die hards always come up trumps and all staff are fed and watered with a variety of tasty dishes to maintain our stamina for the rest of the day's triumphs and challenges. As I sat down to enjoy my home cooked shepherd's pie and salad, I began to hear about the day's events from the perspective of staff gathered around the dining table.

Much of the news centred around the triumphant results of many of our Year 6 pupils gaining offers, including scholarships, to the local Dulwich foundation schools and other highly regarded independent seats of learning. Hurrah, such successful team work. I'm so proud and delighted with everyone especially the children.

But I also heard about about poor Bradley. During his Drama lesson today, he was an absolute pain. Uncooperative, sullen and displaying behaviour of considerable challenge to his extremely competent teacher. I agreed to have a word with him. This child is in deep pain and exists in a world full of sorrow and deep angst. Sadly, his mother died when he was very young (pre-school) and he's seemingly, never really had the opportunity to talk about his feelings. Indeed, he doesn't really know how or why his mother died and that pain has been with him ever since she passed away. Bradley and I talked about his drama lesson but we gradually turned the conversation towards 'his pain' and the real root of the issues he hides but, in truth, reveals each and every day.

Within moments, I was faced with this poor crumpled soul spilling his grief with wails, sobs and floods of uncontrollable tears. His distress was painfully raw and tangible. We talked and I think it helped but my one regret is that I didn't hold him, like a babe in arms. He needed the warmth and security of a mother's embrace right at that moment but I'm ashamed to say that I allowed modern protocol to prevail.

It's a moment that I'll never forget and I hope that Bradley feels that in some small way, his years of pain, grief and confusion has turned to follow a different, more positive path.

Bradley left the room on a much happier note and I wept like a child. After composing myself (and then breaking down again whilst relaying the tale to the Head), I rang Bradley's father and left a message asking him to call to make an appointment. Within the hour, he was in school and spoke to our ever sympathetic and supportive Headteacher. As a result, I'm delighted to say that counselling is being arranged and maybe, in time, there'll be a happier soul (and departed spirit) able to deal more readily with life's, often cruel, challenges.