Pareidolia is the phenomenon of seeing human faces in everyday objects. As humans, we are predisposed to recognise other humans - it’s a brain thing. So seeing faces in tree trunks, clouds and walls is entirely normal and natural.
It is an anomaly that has kept local newspapers going for decades, with readers’ photos of hilarious misshapen vegetables. Let’s face it, we have all eaten crisps with the face of Elvis or the baby Jesus cooked into their salty surface.
Why stop there? Rather than just a resemblance - and it is often a pretty shoddy one - is it not possible that familiar objects can take on the characteristics of people as well?
I like to think so. And this is why I present to you, with seasonal timeliness, your headteacher in Easter-egg form.
Which Easter egg is your headteacher?
Let’s face it, headteachers are a special breed, in so many ways. Every headteacher I have had the pleasure to have worked with has shown genuine care and concern for their school, even though this may have manifested in a variety of different ways.
Like headteachers, Easter eggs are special things. A quick mooch down any supermarket aisle will yield wonders, but which one most resembles your headteacher?
1. Cadbury’s Dairy Milk Easter egg
On the face of it, your headteacher is a reliable, traditional, no-nonsense leader. They do what they say they will do: no frills, straightforward, let’s get the job done without any fuss.
Some might say they are boring and lacking in creativity, but they meet targets and you know where you stand with them.
However, beneath this practical shell lies a professional who has sold out to an international academy chain, lured by a massive increase in salary in return for a thinner, less-appetising performance, which leaves staff wondering where the wholesome, substantially satisfying educational experience went.
Cutbacks and centralised administration can leave a nasty taste in the mouth, though, along with the empty reassurance that things are actually better now than before.
2. Lindt chocolate bunny
Your headteacher is a charmer: classy, well-dressed and confident. Well-travelled, this head has a pragmatic and worldly view of their role and the school they lead. They are very approachable and empathetic to their staff, having a large family of their own.
Everyone loves them, and they are eager to please, sometimes at great cost to their own wellbeing: that golden bell around their neck can sometimes get a little tight.
They are a positive presence, with a natural child-centred approach. Usually found in a primary school, they are happy, bouncy, good listeners and often a little thick around the bottom.
3. Own-brand Easter egg
This head is a sheep in wolf’s clothing. An entry-level career move might mean you are saving on budget expenditure with their salary. But while they may look and sound like an experienced headteacher, with years of credibility under their shiny foil wrapper, they are in fact faking it until they make it. This does not make them any less earnest or hardworking - they do the job of any other decent head out there.
What is lacking is the conviction and the confidence that comes with time on the front line. But give them a chance. Everyone has to start somewhere, and you may find that this cut-price version is actually a bargain.
Check the ingredients: do you like what’s on offer? Make an ally of this head and they will take you with them when they are promoted to their next role. Two for the price of one - what’s not to like?
4. Quality Street Easter egg
Quality Street should be the pinnacle of all that is British confectionary - and you would expect the same standard from a Quality Street headteacher. Trusted, well-presented, a hint of luxury and echoes of a golden era.
But this is not the true face of a Quality Street headteacher. Quality Street is glitzy and showbiz, at times dazzling and confusing. The multicoloured wrappers hint at delights and rewards to come. There is a lot of pizazz, a lot of front.
Whether it is glossy brochures and a tendency to overspend on laminating, or a propensity to relentlessly share personal stories during assemblies, this headteacher has jazz hands.
However, if you have been alive for more than a decade, you will have seen a significant shift in the variety of chocs inside a Quality Street egg. Some call it progress. I call it annoying.
A Quality Street headteacher loves change for change’s sake. The need to be seen to be doing something. Everything working well? Let’s change it! And make everyone a huge poster about it. If it ain’t broke, you haven’t changed it enough.
This is tiring, like the disappearance of the lime crème (trust me, it was a thing).
So, as I reach for my next indulgently foil-wrapped, overpriced, overpackaged springtime treat, I will be using the experience as a reflective tool to consider the qualities of the school leaders I have known in my career. And whichever “headteacher” I decide to demolish in the next half hour, I will, of course, be doing it respectfully.
Zoë Crockford is an art teacher at a secondary school in Bournemouth
