William Atkinson

Sir William Atkinson has led the remarkable turnaround in fortunes of Phoenix High School in Shepherd’s Bush. Neil McKelvie meets the charismatic headteacher who was named one of London’s most influential people by
the Evening Standard

Above: Sir William Atkinson © Vincent Starr

    In 1995 William Atkinson, then headteacher at Cranford Community School in Hounslow, was invited to assess the state of education at Hammersmith School on the White City estate. 

   It had failed its Ofsted inspection ‘fairly gloriously’ and been placed in ‘Special Measures’; most notoriously, the Mail on Sunday had condemned Hammersmith as ‘the worst school in Britain’. 

   Sitting in his office at the now re-named Phoenix High School and recalling his first impressions, Sir William (he was knighted in this year’s Queen’s Birthday Honours) shakes his head ruefully: ‘I was appalled by what I found here. The physical environment was dreadful, with graffiti and broken furniture and windows. I was appalled by the apathy and buck-passing. The school was a sea of underachievement. I duly wrote up my findings – and that was that as far as I was concerned.’ 

   Or so Sir William thought! Shortly afterwards, the Director of Education asked Sir William if he would consider taking on Hammersmith. ‘I was running a successful school, so it took some persuasion,’ he laughs. ‘But the governing body and local authority were very supportive. And I recognised that many of the youngsters came from a similar background to me but as I had someone who’d engaged with me at school and enabled me to make a decent fist of my life, I felt I had to do the same for them.’

   Thirteen years after Sir William became headteacher, the transformation has been extraordinary and is best exemplified by the 2008 Ofsted report. It reads:
‘The Phoenix is remarkable; it continues to transform the life chances of students and their families. It can do this because the school operates from a deep-rooted understanding, and heartfelt appreciation of, the challenging circumstances that many students come from… this is a school where every child’s future really does matter.’

   The roots of Sir William’s teaching philosophy lie in his own experience. He arrived in London from Jamaica aged seven; he had never been to school (the starting age was seven in Jamaica) but at the local primary in Battersea he was mistaken for his nine year-old brother: ‘The school came to the conclusion that I was nine and had attended school for two years and my brother hadn’t been at all. That was curious because he could read and write – and
I couldn’t! It was an innocent mistake. We were roughly the same size and my mother spoke with a strong Jamaican accent which people weren’t used to. Unfortunately, it meant that I was consigned to the remedial class, where there was little teaching. I didn’t enjoy it and I thought that I was thick – I didn’t have a clue what was going on.’  

   Inevitably, Sir William failed his 11+ exams and it was only then that the ‘error’ was discovered and he was switched to the correct age band. But the academic damage was done and, two years later, he was unsuccessful again – ‘I have the distinction of being one of the few headteachers to have failed the 11+ twice!’ At 15 he also failed all his O-levels except History and faced a major decision: enter the job market with few prospects or retake his exams. ‘Being held back with younger kids was an ignominious prospect for me,’ he smiles. ‘However, I decided to swallow my pride and apply myself.’ The hard work paid off; he passed the re-sits and joined his peers in the Sixth Form. 

   At this point an inspirational teacher called Ray Saunders entered Sir William’s life. ‘He was a toughie – any backsliding on my part and he was down on me like a ton of bricks. But I had a powerful sense that he had my interests at heart; he saw something in me that was deeply buried – and I had no notion that it even existed. Frankly, I would put any success I’ve had down to his guidance. I saw the impact that he could make on someone else’s life and thought: “that’s not a bad job.” So, I decided to become a teacher.’       

   Sir William arrived at Hammersmith at the beginning of the summer term in 1995. ‘We had two weeks over Easter and in that window I decided to change the physical environment, making the school look fit for purpose and more welcoming for the pupils. We resurfaced the playground, painted the walls, replaced the broken windows and re-named the school Phoenix High.’   

   His next priority was the quality of the teaching. ‘I focused on lesson-planning, introducing traditional practices such as homework and aiming to achieve consistency from subject to subject and teacher to teacher. I also set out what was, and wasn’t appropriate behaviour – you can’t work with students from many backgrounds without consistent expectations and fair rules. We developed a reward system for those who had done well and deployed quick and forceful sanctions for the ones who stepped out of line. It was also important that the staff knew there was an authority they could rely on.’    

   Of course, Phoenix’s rise from the educational ashes hasn’t been a seamless overnight success story. Sir William pays fulsome tribute to the work of his dedicated team over the last 13 years, (‘no single person carries a magic bullet’) and he certainly doesn’t intend to rest on the laurels of a Grade 1 Ofsted rating. ‘There are around 3,300 state secondary schools in the UK and they are also rated by the difference they make – it’s called ‘Contextual Value Added’. In 2007 we were ranked ninth and the year before we were second. That’s an impressive achievement – but my concern is what more must we do to give every student an advantage. That’s the challenge.’

   And what about his knighthood for ‘services to education and community relations’? Sir William beams proudly: ‘Substantially, it hasn’t made much difference. When someone mentions the award, it’s usually because they’re pleased that someone from in their midst has been given a knighthood. As for the students, they’ve always called me Sir – so that’s no big thing!’
Phoenix High School, The Curve, W12 0RQ; 020 8479 114
www.phoenixhighschool.org