SATs Week: The Pressure Teachers Don’t Always Talk About 

Around this time every year, primary schools across England begin to change. Corridors become quieter, displays are checked and covered, and timetables are adjusted.  

As a former Year 6 teacher, I remember the pressure of SATs week very clearly. Not because of any panic per se, but because I cared deeply about the children and wanted them to do as well as they could.  Like many teachers, I was incredibly reflective and naturally hard on myself when the results came back, and I saw the children’s answers. There is always that feeling in the back of your mind that the results somehow represent your teaching and the work you have done throughout the year. 

In some schools, that pressure can feel even greater when outcomes are linked to performance management or appraisal targets. Mine was one of those schools. Not every school approaches SATs in this way, and many leaders work hard to protect staff wellbeing, but when your professional targets are connected to results, it inevitably weighs on you. 

I also have a great deal of sympathy for headteachers during SATs season. Schools operate within a system where data matters. League tables published create comparisons between schools whether we like it or not. Ofsted does not judge schools purely on SATs outcomes, results can still shape perceptions and influence the narrative around a school before inspectors even arrive. That creates pressure on leaders, which can then filter down to staff. 

What is sometimes misunderstood is that teachers are not desperate for children to succeed simply because of data. We want them to do well because we know how hard they have worked. By Year 6, you know those children incredibly well. You know who struggles with confidence, who panics under pressure, who has worked tirelessly to catch up and who just needs reassurance and encouragement to believe in themselves. 

That is why schools often go above and beyond during SATs week. Some provide breakfasts each morning, so children feel settled and energised before the tests. Others create calm starts to the day, giving pupils time to relax and manage nerves. Teachers spend weeks not just preparing children academically, but emotionally too. 

One of the hardest parts for me was sitting in silence while children completed the tests and not being able to help. Teaching is naturally supportive. Every day, teachers’ scaffold, prompt, explain and reassure. Then suddenly, during SATs, all of that stops. You can see children struggling or misreading questions and every instinct tells you to step in, but you cannot. I always found that emotionally difficult because it goes against the nature of teaching itself. 

SATs week also creates a very different atmosphere from normal primary learning. Most classrooms are interactive, collaborative and informal. SATs feel formal by comparison: strict timings, silent rooms and rigid procedures. Managing behaviour and emotions in that environment can be challenging because stress levels are naturally higher. 

None of this means assessment is wrong. Schools do need accountability and national data has its place. But I do think it is important to acknowledge the human side of SATs. Behind every set of results are children trying their best, teachers carrying responsibility and school leaders balancing accountability with care. 

Most teachers are not asking for sympathy. They simply want people to understand that SATs week carries emotional weight because teachers care deeply about the children sitting in front of them.