The Illusion of Easy: The School That Doesn’t Feel Right.

I recently visited a school that is famous, perhaps, in terms of modern digital reach, it is even fair to say world-famous. It is also one of the very few times you can go as far as to refer to a school as infamous. Not infamous like Potter’s Hogwarts, with its enchanting ceilings, moving staircases and secret passages. Nor Rydell High, where Danny and Sandy reunited after a summer of love. Nor Jack Black turning a strict prep school into a classic rock training ground to win the Battle of the Bands. The school I visited is infamous for being traditional and successful.

It is astonishing that a school with excellent results and a simple ethos continues to split opinions and cause friction between educational professionals, including university professors, parents, health professionals, and different social classes across London. How could a top-performing school that has 91% of pupils passing English and Maths GCSEs, and over 50% achieving grades 7–9 in 2024, divide opinion?

The question is not why, who, or what, but how this success is achieved and for that reason I wanted to see it with my own eyes. With the school’s desire to improve public opinion and its local reputation, applications for a day visit and tour are swiftly and clinically processed through three to four automated emails detailing the day, time, and rules. Notably, at the bottom of these guidelines it reads: “Some guests have not abided by these rules and have been asked to leave our premises.” First flag.

I couldn’t wait to speak to some of the teachers who drive these outstanding results and positively impact students’ lives, to discuss their approach and come away with some golden educational nuggets. How do you know if a school is any good? As an experienced teacher of over a decade, across four subjects and four countries, working in both private and state sectors, I would boil it down to this: if you want to understand a school, speak to the teachers. There, however, arises a rock-solid barrier, every teacher who passes through this school signs an NDA before beginning employment. Second flag.

My almost concrete expectation was to walk away from this visit with manic inspiration, educational enlightenment, or at least a few scribbled notes. However, three hours later, I left with a sour taste and an uneasy feeling about my role as an authoritative adult in education.

This school has made it extremely easy to work in as an adult.

It is easy to receive a correct answer. It is easy to give instructions. It is easy to teach.

It is even easier to forget this isn’t the real world, and that the students aren’t being prepared for it. The children aren’t choosing to do the right thing; they are presented with no other choice.

As I left, in the heart of Wembley, and tried to cross the road with seven traffic lights, then entered the tube station as thousands of commuters poured through three gates, colliding and sidestepping one another, I thought, when was the last time life was easy after I left school? When was the last time I was only presented with the right option?

The first person I discussed this with quite rightly played devil’s advocate, presenting a provocative counterpoint and passionately describing the good it does for these communities. The children will ultimately be judged on their academic results, and those results can either open doors or close down potential. They can cross socio-cultural bridges into other walks of life. Too right, I thought. Educational samaritans. All well and good.

However, the school does not follow up with absentees or ask where students are, or why, when they do not attend. The teachers’ days are structured, predictable and controlled systems, and they keep it that way.

I believe children should be given a stimulating environment in which to safely and enjoyably express themselves, make countless mistakes, and be supported by structures that help them feel comfortable and confident, while still giving them ownership over their decisions and their future.

It is the adults who should face the uncomfortable truths, the last-minute changes, and the unexplained consequences, and use every drop of emotional intelligence, adaptability, and wisdom they have built up over 18 years or more to handle them as the professional, emotionally aware human beings we should be.

We, as educators, know the most important thing is to put yourself second.