You’ve passed teacher training and you’re ready to teach your first class. You have completed all observations, signed off all the documents and are full to the brim with ideas on how to teach your class. 

You are free to use your new skills and experience to adapt your approaches to suit the children’s strengths and weaknesses. And, if they don’t work, you can try one of the many other methods you have learned and seen. 

This is the level of autonomy we are told we will have as trainees. In reality, this is not the case. 

‘Freedom’ in teaching

There were many things I loved about my PGCE. Having time to return to the safe haven of college and discuss the trials and tribulations of a placement was incredibly useful. Moreover, the advice and support provided by tutors and other trainees was invaluable - unpicking your experiences and observations and talking through how to improve, or what ideas to try next. 

If any of my cohort had a difficult placement, we were offered reassurance: once qualified, we were told, we would be able to choose and decide how to teach, how to set up our classrooms and how to manage behaviour.

Such provision was very reassuring, and gave a positive outlook on the level of freedom we would have once we didn’t have to teach under the guidance of a class teacher or tutor. 

The shock for an NQT

So it was a shock when I started as an NQT the following September. There was the realisation after the first few weeks that, in fact, I wouldn’t have the time or freedom to trial behaviour-management techniques or classroom set-ups or to implement my own ideas. And the school’s approaches to lessons were at odds with what I had been taught and told previously. 

There were expectations of having big, bright and interactive displays. All exercise books had to be the same across the school, whole schemes of work had to be followed, behaviour management was identical in every class, and you had to timetable a certain number of English and maths hours into the week. 

As terms and years went by, things changed in the school, not in terms of teacher autonomy, but instead with the schemes we followed, how we managed behaviour and what we put up on displays. There were staff discussions about these changes. But, inevitably, it was the vision of senior management that prevailed, and determined how we taught and provided for the children in our classes. 

While it is understandable that schools have to be consistent with a certain structure, the level of restriction was confusing. Being expected to function according to the outlook of other staff members left little room for individual creativity from teachers. When you are told how to do things and what things to do, it is harder to see your own vision and areas where you personally want to develop and improve. 

Lack of autonomy

This continues as teachers progress to subject leadership. Often, this is not an individual decision (I was made subject lead in my second year without a clue what to do) but one put forward by senior management as a necessity based on who is available and who has the most experience, rather than who wants to take on the role out of interest. 

The lack of autonomy ultimately feeds down from the national curriculum. With a focus on such a crammed curriculum, and raising incomprehensible standards, it is no wonder that senior management feels the need to control how things are done in such a structured way. Time is needed to cover the required content, so there is very little time, especially as an NQT, to trial ideas and recognise where to improve or how to take a different approach. 

To truly flourish and enjoy teaching, teachers require a certain degree of autonomy. Individual expression is important, not just for sanity, but to also keep the students in front of us engaged and inspired. 

Alex Waite has just finished working as a Year 6 teacher in South London, and will be working as a supply teacher from September