A heartfelt, standing-ovation, slow-clap thank you to the
Department for Education
for the absolute generosity of eight whole weeks of full maternity pay.
Eight.
Weeks.
I mean… wow.
While the bright sparks in the civil service who signed that off enjoy 26 weeks at full pay.
Twenty. Six.
It’s comforting, really. Knowing that the people who decided teachers only need eight weeks to recover from pregnancy, childbirth, hormonal collapse, sleep deprivation and the sudden responsibility of keeping a small human alive… are themselves sitting comfortably on a policy that gives them over three times as long.
Lovely stuff.
From Royally Taking the Piss to Taking the Absolute Piss
We were on FOUR weeks.
Then it was increased.
By 100%.
Which sounds impressive until you realise that doubling dog sht still leaves you with… well… dog sht.
Now it’s cat sh*t.
Progress, technically.
And yes — technically better.
But still miles behind the civil service package.
It’s like being told:
“We’ve improved things for you!”
while standing next to someone who’s been given three times as much.
Cheers.
A Profession Dominated by Women. Just Saying.
Let’s not ignore the obvious.
Teaching is a profession made up largely of women. Particularly in primary and early years. Secondary too, across many departments.
So how exactly are we expecting teachers to:
- Recover physically from birth
- Navigate postnatal mental health
- Breastfeed (if they choose to)
- Survive night feeds
- Adjust to a completely new identity
- Then stroll back into a classroom of 30 teenagers on minimal sleep
… after eight weeks of full pay?
In one of the most emotionally taxing professions in the country?
You want someone who is hormonally, physically and psychologically still in recovery to manage behaviour, safeguarding, emotional regulation, lesson planning, data drops, marking, parents’ evenings and Ofsted?
Cool. Nice one.
The Optics
The optics are dreadful.
It sends a very clear message:
- Civil servants deserve 26 weeks.
- Teachers? You’ll be fine. Off you pop. See you after half term.
It’s hard not to feel like the profession is constantly told:
“You are valued.”
… right before being shown, again, that you’re not.
And before anyone says:
“Well, you knew the terms when you signed up.”
Yes.
We also knew funding was being cut.
We knew behaviour systems were collapsing.
We knew workload was unsustainable.
That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t question it.
What Are We Actually Expecting?
We’re talking about people who:
- Deliver a human.
- Are stitched, swollen, sleep-deprived and leaking.
- Haven’t figured out whether they’re crying from joy, exhaustion or hormonal freefall.
- And are expected to re-enter a high-stakes, high-emotion workplace before they’ve even healed.
All while the people who drafted the policy are still on month five of full pay.
Lovely for them.
Truly.
It’s Not About “More Holidays”
Let’s get ahead of the usual nonsense.
This isn’t about:
- “But teachers get holidays.”
- “But you finish at 3.”
- “But it’s a vocation.”
This is about basic fairness.
It’s about aligning policy with the reality of childbirth and recovery.
It’s about retention in a profession haemorrhaging staff.
It’s about not treating teachers as if their wellbeing is optional.
Imagine the Message We Could Send Instead
Imagine saying:
“We understand this is a female-dominated workforce.”
“We value families.”
“We want you to return ready, not broken.”
Imagine matching civil service provision.
Wild idea, I know.
In Summary
Thank you, DfE.
Thank you for taking us from royally taking the piss to taking the absolute piss.
From dog sht to cat sht.
Technically an upgrade.
Still sh*t.
Teachers are resilient. We always have been.
But resilience isn’t infinite.
And respect isn’t just something you say — it’s something you fund.
Bad optics.
Bad policy.
Bad for retention.
Do better.
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