Your wish is my command, oh perverted one.
'Driven Diana
Driven Diana and her common-law partner, Driven Dave, are in competition: the last one to become headteacher has to abandon his or her own career and pledge complete subservience to the other’s. It’s Waterloo Road meets True Lies.
To date, it’s looking good for Diana. Adorned in her criticism-resistant pin-striped power suit, she is shinning up that promotion ladder. Having blasted through every “exciting” working party, mentor programme and curriculum initiative under the pedagogic sun, Super-Di zaps anyone who questions her methodology with the impressive clutch of letters after her name.
Diana has even turned the brief setback of giving birth to her advantage: it has enabled her to whittle down the amount of sleep she requires to four hours. She has also developed extreme multi-tasking skills, by leading an SLT-chat discussion on Twitter while doing 40 minutes on the cross trainer. And Super-Di has the incredible capacity to walk, drink coffee from one of those too-busy-to-sit-down thermal mugs and pick at a Graze box, all while interviewing her Year 9 Ambassadors for Learning about which of her colleagues’ lessons they find the most educationally stimulating.
Our fearless facilitator is forever on the move, energized by a lunchtime jog or gym session. It is not unusual to find her sprinting across the school car park clutching her iPad, breathing “Walk with me!” to a gaggle of Learning Ambassadors, all eager for her attention.
Meanwhile, stunned colleagues, faced with her perma-smile and “just a cheeky request” for “one small favour” can do nothing but slowly creep backwards towards the edge of a large cliff. '