Biscuits Don’t Pay The Mortgage

They weren’t a thing when I was at school. It was just the class and their teacher, desks and a blackboard, the requirement for a Teaching Assistant simply (seemingly) wasn’t there.

But then again, neither were the substantial burdens placed upon the school by the fear-of-god-like power yielded by Ofsted, thus shifting the teacher’s predominant focus from the child to the data, nor the abundance of necessities and details a setting is now obliged to demonstrate to satisfy the governing bodies.

Pupils with an SEN (Special Educational Need) didn’t present because the diagnosis of such a condition was yet to exist. The understanding and acknowledgement of learning disabilities were in their infancy, and thus provision for those with such needs wasn't deemed necessary - the undiagnosed were just considered ‘weird’ or ‘slow’ and often fell by the wayside, whereas a struggle may have been mitigated had adequate support - an assistant teacher - been introduced to intervene.

The need may not have been as great as it is now but I’m sure the teachers of yesteryear wouldn’t have opposed a second pair of hands, and the occasions where disruptive pupils were temporarily locked in stock cupboards, as was the case when I were a pupil 20 years ago, would likely have been avoided had a second, preferably more reasonable, adult been in the room.

In short, times have changed.

The general perception of the role of a Teaching Assistant appears to be one of a glorified play pal - jovial - read with the children, build paper mache volcanoes, sing some songs and wash up the paint pots. If you like kids it’s an easy gig, right? A while back such an assumption may not have been wildly inaccurate, but nowadays it’s a very different story altogether and is far more demanding and diverse than one would imagine.

From an educational perspective, a TA is essentially a second teacher in the room, though perhaps not with a University degree. Their knowledge and competence in the subjects taught is perfectly adequate, they just might not possess the necessary qualification to legally lead the class themselves. The presence of an additional figure in the room ensures struggling pupils receive support to help them keep pace, whilst pushing the more able children to reach a greater depth of understanding in the lesson. Outside of the main classroom they may run intervention groups and catch-up sessions to best ensure that the curricular needs of the child are met, regardless of their individual grasp of the content.

There’s the ‘facilitator’ aspect of the role; the teacher(s) may plan the lesson but it’s the TA that enables those plans to physically come to fruition - this can be vary from basic admin, to gathering resources, differentiating material to meet individual need, and generally providing whatever necessary to deliver a successful session. That’s just in the classroom. Away from structured learning, they’ll deliver extra-curricular clubs, maintain the learning environment, administer first aid, undertake lunchtime duty, attend training and meetings, mediate playground politics and are basically assigned responsibility for any other miscellaneous (often dogsbody) tasks that may arise. If Senior Leadership and Teachers are the school’s bricks, then TAs are the mortar that hold it together.

Yet in my experience, the greatest fundamental of the role is supporting the cognitive and emotional needs of the pupils. Most children will progress through school without the necessity for any special regard or aid, whereas others require quite extensive provision on a daily basis. This takes on varying forms, a TA will often perform the duties that parents have neglected (or are unable) to perform. Regardless of the why, they’ll pick up the pieces when a child comes into school upset, feed them the breakfast they’ve missed, talk through their worries and provide the warmth and empathy every child deserves.

Funding for a 1-to-1 TA will sometimes be made available for children with an Educational Health Care Plan (EHCP) to provide tailored support for the pupil to access the curriculum despite a physical or learning difficulty. Such children would often simply be unable to function within school without the TA and the bond between them can be incredibly close knit, deeply rooted and is one almost parental in nature.

Then there’s the behaviour. The teacher has 29 other children in the class so, 99% of the time, addressing and harnessing the misbehaviour of one (or a few) becomes the responsibility of the TA. Again, there are countless reasons behind the conduct, some more complex and unpleasant than others, but regardless it’s the TA that bears the brunt of it more often than not. They’re the first line of defence - cannon fodder. They’ll be spat at, sworn at, assaulted, insulted and downright disrespected. On a daily basis. But it’s all alright because they’re ‘just the TA’.

Some pupils display low-level misconduct, whereas managing others is legitimately and immensely challenging. Their supervision is exhausting, stressful and most significantly - incessant. Every day is a struggle and, over time, such difficulties begin to weigh heavy.

An outsider may question why teachers themselves don't deal with all this stuff - the interventions, the resourcing, the behaviour. The simple answer being they have their own insurmountable demands of targets, data, planning and numbers. It’d be physically impossible for one person to do it all - there simply aren't enough hours in the day.

Of course, there's an abundance of jobs across all sectors that require great dexterity, press much responsibility, that are demanding, tiring and emotionally trying, but the critical difference is that those positions generally bring with them a wage adequate to the duty.

Google a Teaching Assistant’s salary in mainstream education and you’ll find something along the lines of £17.5K which, for the workload, appears somewhat on the shabby side. Yet what many articles fail to mention is that, unlike Teachers, Teaching Assistants are paid per hour, and term time only. It’s not uncommon for a full time, permanent employee in the role to bring home less than £1,000 per month after tax. This, for the service they provide, is ludicrous.

Suddenly the argument of “yeah but think of all that holiday you get” doesn’t quite cut it. There must be very few, if any, other menially-perceived professions that demand so much for so little financial return.

After years of disinterest, disregard or perhaps innocent ignorance, the issue of pay for TA’s has finally come to the fore with Social and mainstream media recently highlighting the plight of a preposterously underpaid, yet imperative, role within the education sector. They describe how individuals are leaving the profession ‘in their droves’ over a vastly disproportionate responsibility/wage ratio. If one was to ponder the reasons for the current recruitment and retention crisis in education then they need look no further.

For the uninformed, this isn’t a surprising revelation.

As with many Key Workers during the pandemic, it was hoped that a post-covid world would bring a new found respect and reverence for support staff in Education, yet as far as TAs are concerned, nothing has changed. The stereotype of the role is that of a kind, nurturing, yet ultimately unskilled individual who just wants an easy wage to work around the school run for their own kids. It couldn’t be further from the truth - they are generally proficient, articulate personnel who are a genuinely remarkable asset to their setting.

They bring about a wealth of talent and experience not immediately associated with an educational setting but still of substantial benefit to the school and it’s pupils - many offer a passion, patience and compassion so deeply sought by young children whilst others bring more tangible prowess - they’ve previously worked in theatre, health, business, or speak multiple languages and are able to transfer their unique attributes to the benefit of the school. Some have excelled in Sport, alternative academics, or are able to create stunning content and visuals of a standard that far eclipses their paltry paypacket. Deploying these abilities isn’t in the job description, but then again neither are the plethora of additional tasks, many necessitating working unpaid after-hours, that they willingly undertake to do the best for the children in their care - their skills and abilities are fully utilised but there’s no monetary reward for going beyond their contractual obligations.

Schools will attempt to appease any disdain with the occasional token of appreciation - “Ooh there's some lovely biscuits in the staff room”. It’s a nice gesture, yes, but biscuits don’t pay the mortgage. It’s akin to treating a broken leg with Calpol.

My youngest daughter adores the TA in her Foundation class, and is elated that she runs the Breakfast Club she attends once a week. I feel bad, for I know first hand that the TA will be paid absolute pittance and likely oversees the club out of financial necessity rather than choice. She wouldn’t be alone in seeking additional income or taking a second job to pay the bills, an act that’s becoming worryingly commonplace just to keep afloat.

Without intervention, the situation will escalate to such an extent that a Teaching Assistant becomes a luxury, a rarity that only the wealthy (the school itself or a TA’s better-paid spouse) can afford. Whilst it previously may have not been an ‘essential’ role, it most certainly is now.

But why should this be of any concern to anyone else? It may appear an issue easily disregarded by parents of ‘normal’ children, the median percentile, to borrow an academic term. “My child doesn’t require special provision so why should I be bothered’? But, for example, when your child’s everyday education is detrimentally influenced by the behaviour of another in the class, with the glaring absence of any adequate intervention, then it quickly becomes an issue for all parents to be aware of.

If your young child is upset, it’s more than likely that it’s the woefully-paid TA that will comfort and address the issue. This isn’t attributable to the teacher not caring, they simply cannot physically simultaneously deliver a lesson to an audience of widely varying ability, reconcile an agitated child and provide pursuit to assure the safety of another that has just fled the classroom. It’s not poor behaviour management or a lack of organisation, it’s just a genuine challenge of the modern day setting.

The conversations over the Dinner Table will become more frequently unpleasant. “How was school today”? “Well, Lewis was screaming the F-word and threw a chair at another kid so we couldn’t do maths”. Where was the TA? There wasn't one, because they weren’t deemed fit for a respectful wage.

Each child presents an individual response to sanction or repercussion, most will conform positively to the policies implemented within the setting. Others won't. At all. It’s with such pupils and such scenarios - where there isn’t a clear, concise resolution, that the TA shines once more. They’ll often know the children better than the teacher themselves and have thus grown to understand their unique traits and characteristics to best implement an approach to quickly reach the desired outcome for all concerned.

There is, of course, a flip side to the negative, challenging aspects of the role. It affords the opportunity to make a genuine difference in a child’s life, can be hugely rewarding and some days remind us how fortunate and privileged we are to work with the young people in our care. But again, happiness doesn’t pay the bills, and the tales of skilled workers leaving a job they cherish and adore, but that’s simply no longer financially viable, is becoming all too common, and as one account I recently read put it; “I’m not sure how TA’s are supposed to support a vulnerable family when we are one”.

We’ll often go above and beyond, yet we’re not seeking an above and beyond salary - nobody chose the path as a TA with a view to a lucrative career. The workload and responsibility have increased, and the cost of living continues to skyrocket, but the wage hasn’t grown at anything near a comparative rate.

More often than not, the wish for a fairer wage isn’t fuelled by lifestyle desires - to enjoy nice cars and exotic holidays, but rather to simply live, eat and put clothes on the back of their own children.

This isn’t a ‘woe is me’ piece, nor is it a claim that those in the profession have it harder than other low-paid roles within society, but rather an illustration of a genuinely challenging, multi-dimensional role that carries far greater weight and responsibility than the meagre salary would suggest.

Fortunately for us, through conversing with friends within the profession (in other settings), and reading the accounts of education-based individuals online, the life of a TA in our school appears better than most, in that the Senior Leadership Team appear empathetic to the plight, but are burdened by budgets to do anything about it. We seem to enjoy a degree of respect that, by the sounds of it, is so disgracefully absent in other schools where support staff are viewed as second class citizens. There’s an unpleasant job to be done? Give it to the minions.

I’d imagine, when we’ve gone well past the breaking point and the profession is hanging by a thread, there’ll eventually be a token pay increase but, as with valuable roles in other public sectors, is guaranteed to be so meagre it makes little to no difference, yet provide the powers-that-be to declare they’ve done their part and the disgruntled are being greedy and now have “nothing to moan about”. Unless the issue is addressed and respectfully rectified, then talented, skilled individuals will continue to depart in great numbers.

They’ll leave behind a job they love, a role in which they thrive and is genuinely beneficial to those with whom they work.

But who’ll be the real victims in all of this?

The children.