Carefully Taught

As we attempt to navigate the latest path out of the pandemic some of the residual anger and resentment that we saw build up during the lockdown has stayed with us. Lockdown forced everyone to become reflective. World events shone a spotlight on systemic inequalities, and that slow burn anger suddenly ignited, sending people out onto the streets demanding change.

Of course in reality that call for change had been ever present, but a series of events amplified the voices to a level that they just couldn't be ignored. From BLM, to safety for women right through to 'freedom marches' there was a protest for everyone to get behind, whatever your own political beliefs.

The ripples of all those protests have been found in schools and colleges across the UK (and no doubt world). Students empowered by movements and causes that they can get behind have all vowed to make us a better, more equal society. For those of us that can easily remember the 80s it's quite a throwback. I was training during the student occupations in the late 80s, hell I even took part in one, we thought and indeed had to believe that we could create the change that was so desperately needed in the world.  I was raised by an ardent trade unionist who taught me to always stand up for what was right and to fight for injustice. In other words I'm all about radical change, but now a few decades on, I realise that meaningful change takes time, and we owe it to our 'cause' to have the conversations that will lead to systemic changes, not just quick fixes.

In our industry various institutions and organisations have been called out for historical wrong doings. Drama colleges in particular have been called out for poor behaviour and inequality.  So many intention statements have been issued around what changes certain institutions are going to undertake in order to wake up to this new order.

I think that a sad by-product of these important discussions though are the amount of teachers no longer wanting to work within the drama college framework. I've spoken to so many people recently that are literally too scared to teach as they feel that they're now unable to get things wrong.

Now before you jump on this blog and shout that it's a good thing that 'those' teachers want to leave, and that people who can't evolve and change should be kicked out, yadda yadda . . . hear me out, as I don't actually think that it's the 'problematic' teachers that are wanting to leave. After all, those sort of teachers are never reflective on their own practice, and will simply dig a trench of their own belief system and hide in it for a while until it's safe to come out. "Those" teachers will find other jobs in other sympathetic organisations that won't require them to even give 'lip service' to the systemic changes that are needed.

No I believe that we're losing the teachers that are desperate to get it right . . . all because the sudden hunger for change does not give them the right to get it wrong. One dumb comment, one thought provoking question can result in a social media backlash, or an official complaint needing weeks of investigation in order to follow protocol. Their confidence is being eroded, and a teacher consumed with self doubt is never a good one.

Whatever happened to nuanced discussions, discourse, learning from mistakes?

Again before you jump on this there are clearly some things that are just 'wrong' eg wilful mistakes that could and indeed should lead to a legal prosecution. However that's in a different league to a teacher just having a bad day and saying an unthinking sentence in the spur of a moment. As educators we should not be expected to get everything 'right' straight away. Like our students we have to learn how to exist in this brave new world too.

The teachers that I've spoken to feel like they've lost that freedom to get it wrong. One wrong word, one stupidly phrased sentence leads to them being called out as an 'ist'. However it's important to remember that teachers are fallible humans too. The thoughtless sentence that's hurt a student can't be assumed to have been said with a premeditated intent to hurt or damage. There's so much more to the issue than that moment. A context, a nuance, an understanding. . . a conversation.

Teachers are expected to take into account the wellbeing of their students, to acknowledge and make allowances for a 'bad day', to attempt to stay curious about why somebody reacted in such a way, as opposed to writing off that person for their actions in a single moment. We hold in high regard the ability for somebody to learn from their mistakes, we encourage 'daring to fail' as a mantra for learning. Yet teachers are now expected to just get it right straight away. 

We are all living through the pandemic, as angry and frustrated as students are for the slowness of change, teachers are also burnt out and spent, as they too attempt to navigate the change that is so sorely needed. However I believe that we also have to give teachers the right to get it wrong. Once again for clarity I'm not talking about things that are illegal, I'm talking about regular things where they just get it wrong or handle things badly.

Teachers should be afforded the same luxury of learning from their mistakes, being held accountable and also making right where necessary.

With the recent cases of school teachers being trialed by social media we have to be wary of these things as it's important to remember that one person's account is not necessarily 'the truth'. It is 'their truth', but we don't know what else was going on for them when they had those experiences. There is always another truth or another side to an event, and it is those two things that come together to create 'the truth'.

I spoke about this before having seen a friend be put through hell and back when somebody chose to lie about them on social media. As the person on the receiving end of the lie you have no recourse to defend yourself, as seemingly the first account of a story that people read is now considered to be the gospel truth,  after all, who would knowingly lie about 'such a thing'? Yet the thing is. . . people do lie.

I've had this experience countless times myself. Even quite recently on one social media platform somebody commented under one of our videos that they'd been to the college and had been physically beaten up by a member of the faculty during the audition!!! A ludicrous statement on so many levels, the person making the claim had never stepped foot in the college and other than this troll post had had nothing to do with us at all - but people were prepared to believe them, after all . . . why would they be lying?  I mean this is an extreme example and I called the person out on it, but you get my drift. Social media is as dangerous as it is brilliant. There was another case recently where somebody posted a wholly inaccurate account of a situation that they had been involved with, now for sure that could have been their experience of the events, but by missing out huge chunks of really important and vital information, their sense of injustice read true, however those missing chunks actually painted a very different picture. Again though - social media is not the place to try to defend actions. There's just not the space.  In an ideal world you'd call out these things, sue for defamation and have your day in court and a sense of justice, however the reality of that is that you have to be very rich to fight even the most basic of defamation cases. So you're forced to just leave it out there and hope that nothing comes of it. In the meantime, as in the case of my friend though, these wild accusations can lead innocent people down a dark path of despair. A huge price to pay for literally doing nothing wrong.

So what's the answer, as I really worry that we're going to lose a lot of brilliant teachers who really care about their students/pupils, and in truth I don't know. I guess we all have to keep striving to create workplaces where difficult discussions can take place, without fear of retribution when heavily edited accounts are posted online. Students need to be heard, but equally teachers need to feel confident with their voices too.  Is it more staff training? Is it more discussions in town hall type meetings within organisations?  We're well past the age of 'the teacher is always right', but equally we shouldn't be in the age of 'the student is always right'. I guess that it's mutual respect, constant conversations and an openness to change, and that change can sometimes come from getting it wrong, and both students and staff have to be supported and indeed granted the right to 'learn from their mistakes'.

Tis a brave new world, and one that we're all striving to belong to. It just takes time eh?

Mental Health and resilience

 I've read several conflicting articles over the past couple of weeks about how much better our industry is coping with mental health since the pandemic. Some claim that we're really getting on top of it all now with lots of additional help being put in place, others claim that we're still not doing enough, and we're about to witness a massive era of crash and burn.

Now as the person that started campaigning for better education around mental health in drama training some 7 years ago now, and as someone that was instrumental in launching the #time4change mental health charter some 5 years ago I'm finding the conversations really difficult - and here's why. We're focused on the symptoms, not the cause. We're working off the assumption that the industry is making people ill, whereas it seems to me that with 1 in 3 in the arts susceptible to mental illness, shouldn't we be moving a few steps backwards and try to deal with the fact that people who might already be experiencing symptoms of mental illnesses are entering our industry. For sure our industry makes it worse, but for lots of reasons, our industry attracts a certain demographic.

What am I basing this brazen statement on - 12 years of running a drama college with a clinician heading up my pastoral care team. I am truly gobsmacked at how many of my students over the years were attempting to deal with obvious mental illness symptoms and yet nobody had diagnosed them. Instead, there are countless stories of GPs, teachers, and even parents normalising their symptoms, putting it down to teenage angst etc when all the time they just needed treatment. I've witnessed first-hand the life-changing effect of treatments like CBT, talking therapy and sometimes where indicated, a chemical intervention. 

The trouble with the new culture of declaring your mental health is that we're failing to build resilience and we're failing to address the real issue. We all have crap days, and we all have days where we have to push through 'a mood' but for some, this is indicative of an illness. The answer isn't necessarily to have a day off though. For example, if our students hit a crisis at college we support them to come in as much a possible. Physical exercise is one of the best endorphin hits around and my lot dance for 3.5 hours every morning.  For sure we can give them moments outside of the space to breathe, but then it's back into the studio as soon as possible. Distraction is also really useful.

Now clearly there can't and shouldn't be blanket rules, this is not a black and white issue. For the student suddenly diagnosed with bipolar who is in a depressive episode, and who is attempting to get the right treatment, college is not the right environment for them, you can't 'push through' that. So it's about having a clinician on hand to advise us how best to help.

Anxiety is through the roof at the moment for all of us, but for some people, they've been living with anxiety their entire lives, so this is just the icing on a really big cake. Yet not many people seem to realise that anxiety is a treatable condition. So why learn to live with the symptoms when you could be living your life symptom-free? 

Some of these symptoms are incredibly nuanced, and would not be picked up by the much-lauded mental health first aiders, just like an underlying condition would not be picked up by a St John's first aider.  Here's the rub though there is no longer a shame about having a bad mental health day, but there's still a shame in actually having a mental illness.

Until we address the taboo that some people were literally born with a genetic loading stacking the odds against them from the off (just like we're genetically loaded to have other illnesses) then this is always going to be an unsatisfactory conversation.

The discussion around wellbeing has (I'll say it again) hijacked the much-needed conversation around mental illness. As one of my students once said, if eating vegetables, taking nature hikes and yoga could have cured their depression then they shouldn't have hit a major crisis. For them, the only solution was a medical intervention, their clinical depression needed a chemical reaction to rebalance them. No amount of broccoli, sea air and downward dog could replicate what their brain actually needed.

Early intervention is key, primary schools are slowly edging towards a whole school approach to mental health, in the interim though colleges should be the final safety net to catch people. 

They Saved The MTA

19th July 7pm announced publicly that we were closing The MTA in September 2021. This was not a ploy, it was a heartbreaking reality.

29th July midday announced that somehow we had been 'saved'. In just 10 days the darkest day of The MTA turned into the brightest day. We're under no illusions that we're saved for good - but we are safe long enough to allow the class of 2022 to graduate, and for the past 3 to 4 months that's all we were trying to do. We have plans and supporters in place to work with us to secure a better future for the college, but we'll be taking it one step at a time. Of course the intention is to keep going - but we set out to do one thing first.

In the last 10 days, though we've seen instalives packed with MT royalty supporting the #savetheMTA campaign, we've seen a Go Fund Me campaign raised at the last look over £16k, we've had offers of support both financial and in kind. I've spoken more to Chairman Jon Harris than I have to my wife, as we worked our way through the various obstacles and aids that were thrown at us.

I've been reminded time and time again that my poor self-esteem really can't handle compliments. I've been taken on countless trips down Memory Lane, with past students and staff, lots of those trips were just sheer laughter, a couple of sheer horror but quite a few of them were devastatingly humbling.

I've been reminded (as if I needed it actually) that I have an amazing group of friends that really 'get me', who know when to back off, and exactly when to parachute in with words of wisdom. My family are my heroes.

I spent half the week emailing people telling them that things had been canceled, and terminating contracts, whilst the latter part of the week emailing them back to say that things were all back on.

To say that I'm reeling is an understatement. However, most of all I feel a huge sense of relief. Carrying the stress of the past year has taken a tremendous toll on me. That old work/life balance definitely needs adjusting, but suddenly the college once again has a sense of possibility and hope about it, as opposed to a sense of inevitability. 

Over the past year, the pandemic had almost forced the wider MTA community apart. Not so fulfilling to pop into a zoom room as it is to pop into a Green Room. Whilst every so often we'd all come together for some online event or another it did feel like it had drifted. However, once the closure announcement was made those ambassadors were just phenomenal. I had spent the best part of the year sad for my 1st years because they had no sense of the greater MTA community when suddenly they all parachuted down to help out of nowhere.

I've kept saying this but The MTA is not the only independent drama college focussing on vocational training. There's a few of us about, and we're all being sold out by the industry's gatekeepers and that really needs to change. We're going to keep doing our thing because we know that it works, and from the outpouring of support we've had over the last 10 days it seems obvious that quite a few people agree with us. We've consciously not issued press releases - predominantly because I loathe how in recent years The Stage has noticeably changed direction from the 'we'll support everyone' stance that we used to know and love into the 'we'll only talk about the Federation of Drama Schools' as if there's nothing else out there. Well let's just call it shall we - as a lot of those colleges are currently undertaking internal investigations on really serious allegations, but The Stage still reveres the ground that they walk on.  The Stage (and Equity) should be campaigning to regulate the UK training industry. Instead, everybody stays quiet.

They are our industry newspaper and have done next to nothing to highlight and campaign about the lack of provision in vocational training, just like Equity have done nothing. Too many 'old boys' looking after the 'old boys' for my liking. Plus now that they've added these ridiculous clickbait headlines to social media posts knowing full well that the articles are behind a paywall . . . well I'm done with pretending that that's OK.  We've called it out a few times over the closure, and it's been interesting to see others call it out too. Well, we're done with being quiet with this stuff moving forward. Things really do need to change.

That said, and rant over, for now, I'm going to take some time to finish off this academic year, regroup, reset then move forward. The path ahead though doesn't feel as lonely as usual. 

Expect the Unexpected

 Every year when a new intake joins the college we ask our graduates and 2nd years if they have any advice for the newbies. Without fail one person will always say that to 'survive' #theMTAway they need to expect the unexpected. Now to qualify that really quickly - what they're referring to is our penchant of springing surprise auditions on them all the time. We do it to train our students not to be afraid of auditions, to almost see them as a game. Successful or not, just to have taken part means that it was an audition 'banked'. None of us ever know when the payout of that deposit will be, but if you did your prep, it will eventually pay you back.

Well, this week's event has made me really reflect on that phrase. Monday was truly horrific. Since the Board voted not to run next year late on Friday evening, it's fair to say that my weekend was . . . difficult. I still had a show left to finish writing, and it's REALLY hard trying to write a comedy when you're living in your own private hell. Just to make 2021 really perfect, just a matter of days earlier I had also been home to Wales to attend the funeral of a really close relative. It had been one of those tragic diagnosed one week died 2 weeks later sort of scenarios. With my wife looking after the children I ended up locking myself away in the office for the weekend writing, grieving and stunned actually. 

In a bid to support our students when we broke the news I was flagged by Jon Harris, the Chair of our Board, Sam Hull, a Trustee but also one of our original cohort (so she'd been there on the day that the college opened), plus faculty members Josh Mathieson (Head of Voice/VP), Giles Taylor (Deputy Head of Acting) and Tilly Vosburgh (Head of Acting who had literally ubered across to us after finishing a morning shoot).

The next hour was a blur really, emails scheduled to go out to incoming students, staff, supporters, 2 year groups to tell, a social media live in a private group to tell our graduates. Here's what I do remember though - the first years whilst devastated were instantly galvanised into a group of action, even though the situation was desperate we still managed to find things to laugh about (a very important MTA trait). The irony that they had literally just finished a MT class looking at rep only to discover that the song of the day had been "Tell Me It's Not True"? I mean WTAF? 

The 2nd years were equally stunned, but recognised instantly that they were in many way unaffected by the decision (other than the lack of free dance classes moving forward), so immediately after we finished explaining the situation to them - their response? They asked to go across to the other studio to support their friends in the first year. It was as beautiful as it was devastatingly painful to watch.

Then this is when it all changed - as I had made the decision to personally tell our graduates (college for life and all that, so we have regular contact with them, and this was far too important to just send an email). I nipped into their private FB group to go live and tell them (I should add that the only other time that I've ever done that actually was when it was announced that the UK was closing down for a global pandemic, and we went live in all our groups to reassure them and tell them that we were around to support them).  As with our students, we explained our financial position in detail as we're always transparent with our students, yet even when I made it clear that we were looking to find stupid money very quickly, they were instantly galvanised to try and help.

By that evening a group calling themselves "The MTA Community" has started a Go Fund Me, we had already been contacted about the potential of some larger donations, and by the time the news went public at 7pm it felt like this kamikaze juggernaut that I'd been trying to steer for the last few months had already been taken away from me, with a whole group of people suddenly attempting to steer it instead. 

It was a conscious decision to put out our statement on our own terms via our social media channels, as for quite some time now it's been evident that our industry press has a clear bias supporting the Federation of Drama Schools, and their clickbait social media headlines invariably belie the story of the articles held behind a paywall. We had nothing to hide and A LOT to say, and we wanted the full story out there.  Whilst we felt that it was too late for us, we know that we're not the only college struggling with policy decisions designed to push out true vocational training.

Never in a million years did I think that our post would have the reaction that it did. We felt that we were such an insignificant cog in this beast of an industry that we would be gifted the dignity to slide away quietly. I was aware that we had facilitated change in the training industry, especially around all the mental health stuff, but even that felt like it had been sidelined recently having heard the absolute horror stories that were spilling out in the media. Organisations that had signed up to the #time4change mental health charter had clearly done nothing more than offered lip service to it given what else was alleged to have been going on in these colleges.

How wrong we were.  As people that work with me know I'm fastidious about responding to messages instantly, invoices are literally paid on receipt as I just like to keep on top of my work. However, there was no way that I could keep on top of this. Once I've finished this I've got some serious catching up to do.

We still don't know what's going to happen, we still haven't secured all the funding that we need, however, we have now said that IF we did reach our £250K goal which would enable us to end the course properly for our current first years, we would also run one more first-year group, only this time with no guarantee of a 2nd year, and as the £250K is essentially paying for "ghost seats" for the students that we failed to attract, we committed to filling those seats with disadvantaged students who would never usually be able to afford a vocational college. We'll hold auditions for a diverse group of students who would like to train #theMTAway for a year. They'd get to do 3 shows with us if nothing else. 

My only unfulfilled dream around The MTA was to find a way to fund 50% of our places with 50% funding already in place. Maybe, just maybe our final year would finally allow me to reach that goal. A bittersweet irony, but a hugely gratifying one at that.

The story goes on. . . . 

Here's a link to the Go Fund Me page: https://uk.gofundme.com/f/save-the-mta

End of an Era

 When you're forced to close a business, you're also forced to be self-reflective to work out what went wrong. Over the past few months as the seriousness of The MTA's position became ever clearer to me I've done nothing but self reflect.  The obvious answer really must be that the course didn't work - after all, if it did we'd have people queuing outside the door to come and train with us, except that in many ways we did have those people queuing up - but they all turned away when they found out that our course came with no funding stream. It didn't matter how much we'd try to reassure them that we'd find a way to make it work for them, we know for a fact that it stopped people auditioning.

This dichotomy of running a college that clearly worked - 100% of students securing agent representation is no mean feat when you're not massaging your figures with signings with associated agencies. In total we trained 193 students through to graduation, and a further 15 were trained up to the end of their first year.  When I opened the college I was told that 95% of our graduates would drop out of the industry within 5 years.  I always vowed to base our success on the longevity of the careers that we created. Pre-pandemic a staggering 78% of our graduates were still in the industry with 23% of those having secured West End or No 1 touring contracts. However that's just the PR headline, as the reality is even richer, our graduates went on to perform all over the world, from Lapland to the USA (via China, Malaysia, Australia), working at the National, the RSC, West End, International tours, open-air theatres, schools, community theatre, on screens big and small.

Hard to see the place as a failure when you're looking at the evidence, isn't it?

So where did we go wrong? We stuck to the idea that vocational training was enough to get you a career, we didn't buy into the Tory-inspired myth that people needed a qualification to succeed in our industry. We invested in the students, not in the system. That ultimately was our downfall. With no desire to expand, the business model literally involved securing enough students year after year to train with us. We had various plans in place for low numbered year groups so we plodded along quite nicely. However, in 2019 with the demise of the PCDL, it became harder to recruit students as we suddenly had no funding attached at all. We saw the drop of applicants instantly during the 2020 'audition season'.  We started to explore other options but these things take time, so when we were suddenly facing Brexit (20% of our students tended to come from the EU, but we would no longer be permitted to train them), and then Covid right on top of it, all the wheels that we had started to put in action ground to a halt.

We had exhausted our evaluation of moving to a degree model when we realised that to successfully do that we would need to change our course in order to make it financially viable as we could only realise a certain amount of government funding. It was suggested that we could introduce the idea of a reading week (thereby saving us money), or dropping some of the performances, or putting private study time in - basically filling the course with non-contact hours in order to save money, but at the expense of the training. Then we explored taking on extra students in order to make up the deficit that we would hit should we end up running a degree course which didn't give us the option of adding a top-up. Of course, by taking that route we would once again be diluting the students' training - so we just wouldn't do it. However even if we'd opted to sell out that much in order to secure a degree status course we knew that the timeframes involved in all that (pointless) bureaucracy would be too long, and the pandemic pushed those timeframes ever longer.

We were mid exploring applying to get approved for a named diploma. Whilst we'd gone down this route once before, we were stopped by their criteria of only considering 3-year courses. This time though we pursued it and were negotiating the changing of the wording of that one sentence, setting the criteria at minimum hours/year as opposed to naming the length of the course. The organisation was definitely up for it but needed to discuss it fully as a Board themselves as this was a major change for them. That meeting still hasn't happened over a year later. . . as of course covid has meant that other things have had to get prioritised.

To give you an idea of the timeframes involved, all of this was going on (including independent consultations) whilst we had been forced like every other UK college to put our training online. Even writing that reminds me of the stress that we were under at the time. Desperately restructuring the course to ensure that our students still made progress during 2 terms of online training, attempting our best to pastorally support them all, plus try to strategise how we could protect the college against the oncoming juggernaut of Brexit just 2 years after the demise of the PCDL. 

Of course, as the 2021 audition season kicked off the world felt a little less certain after months of lockdowns, so we weren't surprised when the applications slowly came in as opposed to all land together as they did every other year. The expectation was of course that we'd get later applications once things were more normal. The Christmas Covid wave was on its way - who the hell would be applying for college then? As the applications started to trickle in we also saw a much larger percentage than normal of withdrawals - even before coming to the audition. Now, this was a new pattern for us. On one of our audition days literally, 2/3rds of the applicants withdrew at the last minute. We'd been forced to move their audition date when we went into lockdown in January, but this was still really unusual.

As we always audition late we usually get a steady stream of applications from May-August each year, in fact, several times in our history it was the August auditions that proved to provide us with a large percentage of our year group. However, those applications just never materialised this year. Then when all the applicants dropped out of our June audition date (again, a first for us), it was clear that things were really bad and potentially critical. Board meetings were hurriedly called in a bid to update but also brainstorm new ideas. Friends of the college started to lend their expertise (very generously I must add) in a bid to see what was going on, the marketing spend increased, hell I even gave up 2.5 months going live on social media 4 times a week in a bid to remind people that we were here and still auditioning. Literally, nothing worked.

Other friends came on board with suggestions of where we could raise charitable donations in a bid to support our class of 2022 to finish their year (with the hope that this was just a 'perfect storm' situation, but next year would be better). A call to action was sent out to everyone and anyone we could think of, but of the 40 or so emails that I sent out we had just one reply, and whilst that person offered a donation, it was clear that we weren't going to hit our figure, or indeed get anywhere near it.  In truth when it came down the fact that we were going to need to raise the funds I knew that we were stuffed. Over the last 3 years we'd undertaken a brilliant fundraising feasibility study, the consultants involved felt sure that we would be able to raise a regular amount of money/year in order to fulfil my dream of running a college where 50% of the places were funded. Yet a couple of brilliant fundraisers later, and a load of rejected applications, and it was quickly evident that people weren't interested in independent colleges. How many times did I read that sentence "we've already allocated our funds to other institutions" only to see the same old names come up time and time again.

We were aware of the ticking clock of the end of the academic year which meant that students would be putting down deposits on houses for the next year, plus of course starting to pay for their 2nd year (or 1st year) So it was at this point that the Board had to make the devastating decision to close as if we didn't close we would run out of money by March.  The business model could not support the size of the year that we had coming in, and the business model of the course was never designed around just one year group (well. . . other than our first year obviously).

So a week ago I had to start making calls to other colleges to try and secure an alternative for our first years. I mean how bloody horrific for your college to close in the middle of your training, but also how horrific to be planning your new London life at your drama college only to get the rug pulled from beneath you 3 months before? Knowing that we were letting down 22 students was by far the hardest part of this journey. Also going into college to work with them whilst knowing that things were not looking great was horrible, and definitely not a position that I'd ever want myself to be in again, and in fairness I wasn't scheduled that much during the first few weeks anyway as I was also trying to write a show whilst this real life drama was unfolding. The only thing I could think of to soften that blow was to try and secure them places at another college.  I am indebted to Leo at Associated Studios who firstly didn't just try to grab the money when I called her, but first offered to sit down with me to see if there was anything that we could do to save the college, but then secondly reassured me that as another 2 year MT course in London she could take on our lot if they chose that option. This of course meant that they could continue their training together. Obviously, it's up to them whether they take this option, but I'm so relieved that the option was offered to them. Plus thanks to Louise at PPA and Adrian at LSMT for also agreeing to see any of our students that were interested in their courses. So nothing here is ideal, but at least there were 3 concrete alternatives being proposed to the 22 students most impacted by this and indeed 2 of those options were considerably cheaper than us, and potentially came with government funding attached.

. . . and so we're here with the announcement of our closure. 

As you can imagine there is so much more to sort out now, and the next few months are going to be difficult for all of us I'm sure. Why the blog? Because I need to remind myself right now quite how hard I fought to save the college that I set up in 2009. I need to hold onto the reality that I really tried everything to save it.  100% I failed, but as no doubt I'll cover in another blog (now that this one is out of my head), there's been a massive shift in the training industry this year, and I think that we're going to see a very different landscape emerging over the next few years unless somebody starts to regulate it.