When I first became a headteacher
I knew what I had to do.
I strode purposefully into that staffroom
And said a word or two.
I spoke to all of the teachers
I communicated with all of the staff
Found what had to be changed
Plotted a decisive path.
Went away to carry out actions
Written on triplicate plans
Following the latest SMART targets
I journeyed to far distant lands.
And there on the edge of a canyon
Teetering near lava-filled pools
I captured the magical beast
And hauled it back to my new school.
Back in the staffroom I presented
The fruition of my labours complete
Just what my teachers had asked for
The thing that would make us compete.
I’d accomplished my colleague’s desires:
Nothing had gone awry!
And now with the staff on my side
Our standards were going to fly!
But the silence was truly awkward,
Everyone in there froze.
Some of them shuffled their feet.
The Year 6 teacher wrinkled his nose.
Butterflies flapped in my belly
I felt naked, despite my best suit.
I’d misjudged something badly
But what? I just couldn’t compute…
The Deputy cleared her throat
As if she was going to speak.
I couldn’t let that happen:
This was my moment to peak.
Trying to lighten the moment,
I said, “What? Is it the horn?”
And with a sympathetic grimace.
She said “Uniform, not unicorn.”