As Carolyn Roberts retires, ending a 23-year headship career in which she has both championed and embodied ethical leadership, her parting question to the sector is one that she believes school leaders have been 鈥渞eluctant鈥 to answer. 鈥淲hat are schools actually for?鈥 At a time when pupil absenteeism remains stubbornly high, Roberts worries that many families are asking that question, even if headteachers aren鈥檛. She leads Thomas Tallis, an 鈥渙ld fashioned liberal comprehensive鈥 in Greenwich which has, 鈥渂y default鈥 rather than design, become a 鈥渕agnet鈥 school for children with SEND. Around 30 per cent of its pupils are on the special needs register 鈥 around double what it was when Roberts took over in 2013. But a proud determination for her school to remain inclusive and provide a broad curriculum has had financial repercussions. She鈥檚 鈥渕anaged to push budget catastrophe a year ahead鈥ut it won鈥檛 balance next year鈥. The Stockton-on-Tees native appears to stutter slightly when provoked by issues that rattle her. Lately, there have been a few. Carolyn Roberts at Thomas Tallis School Shallow games She鈥檚 鈥渋rritated鈥 by politicians and school leaders playing a 鈥渧ery shallow game where everything’s shiny on the outside鈥. There’s 鈥渁llegedly highly academic curriculums鈥 and 鈥渒ids dressed up in 19th century uniforms with blazers and ties鈥. But 鈥渨hat is it like for children in those schools who don鈥檛 quite fit in, or take a long time to learn things?鈥 Thomas Tallis鈥檚 relaxed uniform policy mean its pupils are currently milling about in an assortment of short skirts, shorts and trousers. She questions why adults nowadays can wear trainers to work and be 鈥渃overed in piercings and tattoos鈥, with 鈥渆ven BBC newsreaders not always wearing ties鈥. 鈥淵et we’ve got this idea that children have to be dressed up like dolls. How can it possibly matter what colour socks they鈥檙e wearing?鈥 Roberts worries some of it is about 鈥渢he policing of girls鈥 bodies鈥. She objects to words like 鈥渁 decent鈥 or 鈥渕odest length鈥 for skirts. 鈥淲ell, who鈥檚 to say?鈥 Roberts has an ally in the room; my 15-year-old daughter (with me on work experience) who nods in agreement. Although Thomas Tallis is not immune to rising parental complaints, they 鈥渢ry not to walk into ridiculous arguments about things that don’t matter鈥. She doesn鈥檛 鈥渟weat the small stuff鈥, but she鈥檚 鈥渙bsessive鈥 when it comes to ensuring her pupils are polite and friendly, and that her teachers are 鈥渆xperts鈥 in their subjects. Before Covid hit, she had high hopes that the definition of ethical leadership she鈥檚 spent the last decade championing might take centre stage. In 2017, amid concern over the impact of a preoccupation with exam results, Roberts chaired the Ethical Leadership Commission formed by the Association of School and College Leaders. Its ethical leadership framework, built on the Nolan Principles of Public Service, was promoted by the National Governance Association and picked up by 314 schools and trusts. But post Covid, the government was 鈥渞eluctant鈥 to endorse the commission鈥檚 plans for an ethics forum and to embed its framework into school leadership training programmes. The momentum waned, but Roberts鈥 belief in the importance of ethical leadership has not. Carolyn Roberts front row second from left at The Grange School in Stockton on Tees in 1977 y11 Religious influence The two great constants that have shaped Roberts鈥 life have been education and religion. Despite being 鈥渘ot particularly religious鈥, she鈥檚 鈥渁lways gone to church鈥, and it was while she was studying theology at the University of King鈥檚 College in London that she met her husband, a Church of England priest. One of their offspring is an ecclesiastical lawyer, the other a teacher 鈥 the fourth generation of teachers in her family. Her teacher mum was the 鈥渟teady earner鈥 during her formative years in Teeside, with her dad 鈥渋n and out of work鈥 as a clerk, shopkeeper and bricklayer. Her first teaching job, at Birmingham鈥檚 Shenley Court College (now Shenley Academy), showed just how 鈥渟tarved of cash鈥 schools were. The window of her classroom was broken when she arrived in 1983, and still that way when she left a year later. After a break from teaching in which she spent two years as a race relations officer in Leicestershire and four years raising children, Roberts worked at schools in Peterlee, London and Houghton-Le-Spring, before becoming deputy head of Durham Johnston School, in Durham. The frequent moves, because of her husband鈥檚 transient clergy job, suited her 鈥渢ragically short attention span鈥. Each one presented an 鈥渙pportunity to take the next step up鈥 in her career. In 2001 she became head of St Hild鈥檚 in Hartlepool, just as it was becoming a Church of England school. At the time the church was being encouraged by the government to expand its secondary school provision, 鈥渋n the hopes that the great success of most church secondaries would have a magical effect on schools falling on hard times鈥. Roberts believes many of the schools鈥 success was down to the 鈥渁ffluence and education level of most practicing Christians鈥 rather than the schools themselves. But St Hild鈥檚 drew from the same council estate catchment as its predecessor. She made 16 permanent exclusions in the first half term, a decision she never regretted. 鈥淲e needed to get behaviour sorted out.鈥 Carolyn Roberts on a three week trip to Japan in 1999 for Durham Johnston she took 12 students on her own She also visited the US India and China with the school Gaming results Roberts鈥 eight years at the school coincided with a period when, she claims, others were dabbling with their curriculums to get their results up. 鈥淟oads of other schools were doing better鈥 on paper, but the 鈥渂askets of non-standard GCSEs and other equivalent qualifications鈥 their pupils were taking meant they often couldn鈥檛 get into Durham Johnston鈥檚 sixth form, which 鈥渃losed doors鈥 for them. Roberts was 鈥渃oncerned that children from disadvantaged backgrounds, whose parents didn’t know much about what the education system did, were being sold a dud鈥. She questioned what it was about those school heads鈥 鈥渟elf-understanding of their role that made it acceptable for them to make kids do these really dodgy qualifications鈥. 鈥淚t seemed to me that people had just gone mad.鈥 It prompted her to draw up ten principles for effective schools, including one that leaders should 鈥渢each children to know and to learn for the rest of their lives, not for short-term gain鈥. In 2014, three years after Roberts began leading Thomas Tallis, she co-wrote a book with the educationist Michael F D Young on the topic – . She says she wrongly became a 鈥渇angirl鈥 for the EBacc, with the BBC regularly including a picture of her when they ran a story about the new qualification. Her true feelings were more mixed. She believes that headteachers 鈥渂rought Michael Gove鈥檚 reforms upon ourselves鈥 by encouraging the take up of GCSE equivalent qualifications 鈥 with a 鈥渄ownward spiral鈥 of narrowing curriculums. 鈥淪chools haven’t got enough money or teachers, so they shrink the curriculum further鈥nd that feeds into the recruitment and retention of teachers.鈥 Carolyn Roberts and Gordon Brown as PM when he came to open the Durham Johnston new building in 2010 Ofsted impact She also believes Ofsted鈥檚 own curriculum revolution has actually stifled innovation. When Roberts talks to school leaders about 鈥減owerful knowledge and the curriculum鈥, she says they often say 鈥測ou can’t allow yourself any freedom of thought until you’ve gotten outstanding鈥. 鈥淥fsted didn’t ever set out to restrict innovation in the curriculum. [But] It’s because people have been obsessed with what’s easy to measure. The system has started to believe that an Ofsted judgment is a value in itself, rather than a snapshot鈥. Thomas Tallis has always been rated 鈥榞ood鈥 under Roberts鈥 watch. But those inspections have nonetheless caused a 鈥減ounding heart, anxiety, stomach churning and breathlessness鈥. 鈥淓ven though you try to look calm from the outside and as though you understand their mad logic, it’s really hard.鈥 She believes that Ofsted didn’t realize 鈥渢he stress they cause鈥 until Ruth Perry鈥檚 death. Carolyn Roberts Curriculum nightmare But funding, she believes, is now an even bigger threat to curriculums than Ofsted. Thomas Tallis鈥檚 pupils get an hour a week each of music, drama and dance, and two hours each of art and DT in key stage three and four. Slightly under 50 per cent of pupils choose EBacc subjects, with around 30 GCSE subjects also taught. But providing this broad range of subjects has been 鈥渇inancially catastrophic鈥. Roberts鈥 successor Steve Parsons, now head of Holland Park School, will 鈥渇ace real difficulties鈥, she says. Could the school become part of a trust? She said MATs have 鈥渃ome sniffing around鈥 over the years, but she鈥檚 always been a proud local authority head and 鈥渢oo long in the tooth and entrenched in my own views to be somebody else’s head of school鈥. But with the marketplace for teachers becoming 鈥渟o stressed鈥, there have been unwelcome staff poaching attempts. When one of her heads of department was recently approached by a local academy chain, Roberts wrote to them 鈥渆xpressing regret鈥 over the issue. She didn鈥檛 hear back. She points out how one virtue in the ethical leadership framework is courage. 鈥淪chool leaders need to be more courageous to talk to each other about things that aren’t quite right. 鈥淭hat might mean picking up the phone and saying, 鈥業 hear that you’re saying [to parents] that you can’t meet the needs of SEND children. If you have them in, you’ll learn how to meet their needs鈥.鈥 This harks back to what Roberts believes that schools should be for. 鈥淓ducation should be a social good鈥o that kids understand the world and can change it for the better when they leave it. 鈥淚 don’t understand why people can’t see that these brilliant communities of schools are a blueprint for a better world.鈥 Carolyn Roberts