© Croxj 2025, Going Postal
There are many reasons why I took on the job as caretaker. The school is just across the road, the pay is reasonable for the hours worked, I am, technically, my own boss and I knew I was capable. Also, it’s my village school… so why not?
Over time I realised how much a valued member of my school I really was…
Where to start…
To quote Del Amitri, ‘When the bomb drops, baby, you know I’ll be the last to know.’
Having worked for the ‘old fella’ in his scrapyard for 15 yrs, dealing with all the reprobates and dregs of society, see gypsies, I’d developed a thick skin and an ability to read people. Don’t get me wrong, I generally take people at face value until… they reveal their true self.
In the morning after the day before, see Part 1, I’d go into the staffroom to wonder when that bomb hit…
I told Mrs Milligan, the Deputy Head and the Head of KS1, that I was not prepared to clean up after adults. ‘They’re grown up, if they can’t clean up after themselves… I’d hate to see what their homes look like!’ With nods of approval a line was drawn… ish.
I’ll start with the staffroom… It was the half-cups of coffee left on the table, the teabag left on the side of the sink with the bin just half a step away. The packet of biscuits with the last one left… the last slice of cake…
The first Deputy Head, Dan, and I used to have a bet… when staff brought in cakes and such, a price paid for having a birfdy, how thin the last slice of cake would be at the end of the day…
We had four measurements: thumb, little finger, pencil and… see-through. The number of times it was ‘see-through’… just so that person didn’t have to put the waste in the bin… like the last biscuit in that packet, like the last chocolate in that tray…
They all have access to my room, I can’t stop them… They will need a sick bucket, they’re yellow and they will get one… The number of times the bucket is left outside my room… ‘You went into my room but couldn’t be arsed to go and put it back in there, lazy bassa.’
On my door are instructions for using which coloured bucket and mop, with which cleaning fluid in which situation, and to swill the mop or leave it in hot water for me to sort out when I’m next in.
Blue bucket, blue mop, bleach for hard floors in classrooms and corridors.
Red bucket, red mop, disinfectant for body spills anywhere.
Green bucket, green mop, buffing polish for food and drink spills in the hall.
But it would appear these instructions are superfluous to many staff… I’ve lost count of the number of times I come back to a filthy, un-swilled mop not in a bucket of water. One time one of them had used a new, dry mop without any water to clean a spillage…
I received a communiqué from Lancashire Fire… Basically it said about the school in Chorley that had burnt down because flammable material was left outside the school and someone had set fire to it and the school burnt down… I gave everybody a message that, ‘Waste paper will only be collected every fortnight and, as we have very little capacity in our waste paper boxes, please can you make sure that if you put a cardboard box in it is broken up and flattened.’
The next day, on looking in the office/photocopier bin, there was an unflattened box, so I posted a note on A4 paper emphasising my previous message and placed it where everyone could see… A couple of days later another unflattened box was in the bin… I re-wrote my message… and in capitals: ‘My sincere apologies, it would appear my previous message was not in a big enough font. Would you please flatten all boxes before putting them in the recycle box.’
Jill, the Head, said, ‘That’s a bit sarcastic.’
Me, ‘Well, they obviously didn’t read the first message.’
For the first time staff were able to be supplied with T-shirts and hoodies with the school logo on them. A list was put up in the staffroom with names and a ‘What size?’
My name wasn’t on the list…
I confronted the, then, Deputy Head…
‘Can I have a hoodie, please?’
‘You’ve got to be involved in Sports Day, that’s what they’re for.’
‘Mmmmm, I see… Well, I may not be the lead singer of the band or even the drummer but… when I get all the chairs and benches out there… I’m the roadie.’
Hoodie duly acquired.
Walking into school one afternoon and Mrs Easthope, the Head, and Tony, the Chair of Governors, are walking past the door…
Now, I’ve known Tony since I moved into this village nearly 55 yrs ago… and he knows me…
Tony, ‘Hey Jo, they’re really nice gilets the staff have.’
Jo, ‘Yeah, they’re really good and excellent quality too.’
Tony, ‘Hi Croxj, haven’t you got one?’
Me, ‘Not been asked, Tony’…
Just before we broke up for last summer a list was up for… yeah, gilets, T-shirts et al…
I confronted the organiser, Sarah…
‘How come my name isn’t on the list? And can I have one, please?’
‘Sure, but I’ve always asked you…’
‘No you haven’t.’
Key Stage 1 classrooms are easy to clean despite the small chairs and tables… it’s to do with numbers. It’s only when it’s Key Stage 2… the problem is there are only 6 classrooms for 7 years… so KS2 are shared classes and especially Class 5 and 6, they could have 30… 32… even one time they had 35 in a classroom built for 28ish… and so, I always ask that when school is done, chairs are up… on desks… even after club sessions… and most will do it for 90% of the time.
But there is one class that, after numerous requests aimed at the teacher, Deputy Head and even the Head as well, with replies of, ‘Yeah, no problem’… it has never happened… Class 6… staff meeting, every Wednesday afternoon.
Dan, Class 4 teacher, ‘You going to Wallings and Becky’s leaving do?’
Me, ‘When’s that?’
‘They’re going now…’
The school toilets are in need of a total re-furb but… no funding left, or as one LCC lackey said, ‘There are worse in this County before yours…’ I try my best.
Teacher, ‘Perhaps if they were re-furbed the kids would respect them…’
Me, ‘Perhaps if they respected them they would be re-furbed…’
Considering the amount of money spent on doing up the staffroom and the state some leave it in, I thought that a bit rich.
Now… here comes the ultimate…
2009… During the summer holidays, Classes 1 and 2 and their toilets had a re-furb and, once completed, contractors were brought in to deep clean them. This normally takes me about 4 days. When asked by Mrs Milligan, the then Head, ‘What did you do instead?’ I pointed out the newly painted fascia boards at the front of school. She hadn’t noticed when she walked in that day.
A couple of weeks later she asked if I’d be able to paint the fascia boards above Classes 1 and 2 during the October half-term. I replied that it would depend on the weather. That week was clear and dry but very frosty, so up I went.
On the first day back, after the break, I was gritting the playground outside Classes 1 and 2 when from behind me I could hear the ‘Clip, clop, clip, clop’ of high heels. On turning round, there was Mrs Milligan. ‘Did you not paint those fascia boards?’ Pointing up to them I replied, ‘Did you not look?’ Off she trotted back into school.
Fast forward to the following March and my Annual Review.
(Mrs Easthope, the present Head, has never held any Annual Reviews.)
The first question of the review she asked was, ‘What has been the biggest obstacle hindering your ability to do your job?’
My one-word answer was, ‘You!’
I then continued, ‘The way you have treated me since October, and probably even before that, has been nothing short of disgusting. You trotted out onto the playground and asked, “Did you not do?” How do I answer that, “Yes, I did not do” or “No, I did not do”? You hadn’t even looked. The day before we came back to school after the Christmas break I had a teacher call me in, on my day off I might add, to rectify a problem with their classroom lights.
I couldn’t, and so arranged for contractors to come in very early to fix them. When I went to show you the problem, on entering the room you spotted some tinsel on the floor and then came that question again, “Did you not do? Did you not hoover in here?” I can’t be blamed for the mess a teacher makes on my day off after I’ve cleaned their room. Perhaps you should teach the staff to hoover up after themselves.
But that’s not it, yet. The following week, during the staff meeting, you all helped to demolish some rotted shelving and asked me to come in and hoover up. When a couple of the staff started messing, saying, “You’ve missed a bit,” and I rammed them with the hoover, you said, “Do you mind, my staff want to go home.” Am I not a member of “my staff” any more…?
But that wasn’t the worst one…’
I took a deep breath… ‘On the first Friday after the Christmas break, I had a parent* sat in my kitchen when she received a text, “School are pleased to announce the birth of baby Isla, 6 lb 7 oz. Mother and child are doing well and we send our congratulations to all.” (The then Class 5 teacher, Sarah, and her first born.)
When I came into school that afternoon I asked Mrs Barry (School Secretary), “Where was my text?” She informed me that she hadn’t received the text the night before, just the teachers and one or two TAs. You didn’t even text your own Secretary! I also learnt that a notice had been put up in the staffroom but… was taken down at half 1, an hour before I came in.
Then on the following Tuesday a picture appeared of Sarah and baby Isla, and it was then I realised that, if that parent hadn’t been sat in my kitchen that morning, I wouldn’t have known anything about Isla till the Tuesday after, nearly a week later… Now, ask me the question again.’
‘What has been the biggest obstacle hindering your ability to do your job?… That’ll be me then…’ She wasn’t finished…
She retired at the end of the following summer term, but a couple of weeks before the term ended, on the Thursday, there was a teachers’ strike. In those cases all us non-union staff are required to come in and work.
Only 2 classes had their teachers in, both in KS2. I’d cleaned the classrooms and toilets in double quick time and went in to see her.
‘I’ve cleaned what’s needed and I’m just waiting for you and Mrs Barry to finish so’s I can clean your offices. I can do them in the morning so I’ll be off if that’s ok?’
‘Yeah, no problem,’ she replied.
‘Oh, by the way, when is the meet and greet for the new Head?’
She looked at me sheepishly, ‘That was yesterday…’
‘I see some things haven’t changed, see you tomorrow.’
There have been many, many more instances but that’s plenty to be going on with.
*Christine, whose eldest had been in the same Class as Master C., would drop her youngest at school and come round to buy eggs off us and have a chin-wag… usually for about an hour or so.
Her phone pinged and she read the message and said, ‘Ah, that’s nice.’
Mrs C., ‘What is?’
Christine read out the above text.
Mrs C., to me, ‘You never told me!’
Me, ‘I didn’t know…’
THUD! Then Christine picked her jaw up off the floor.
Next time… Part 3 – Lockdown
© text & images Croxj 2020
