At the chalkface: Tristram’s Oath

So I stand, senile and dementing before a trinity of Ofsted men. They sit, hatchet-faced and sharp-suited, under a flag of St George or Singapore or is it North Korea? My success is dependent on much swearing. An Oath. The Tristram Hunt Oath – a happy mix of the Cubs, Freemasons and Mormons. Tristram thinks it gives us some necessary moral weight and nobility. It must be hung in every classroom.

“Proceed!” go the grim trinity. I salute a flag and kiss the Gove School Bible.

“Dib! Dib! Dob! Dob!” they go. My turn.

“I promise by all the gods of Ofsted to work at least a trillion hours a week, nay, even to extinction – on lesson, action and learning plans, differentiated schemes of work, lacerating self-analysis and incomprehensible performance management enhancement strategies – while smiling throughout like an idiot.”