Politics is everywhere. It’s virtually indistinguishable from gossip. People stick to their own clan, instinctively distrust another clan and talk of nothing else but manoeuvres.
I’m living this at the moment.
Due to increasing numbers of pupils joining the school, Master A’s class is being split into two year groups next term.
The school announced this decision a month or two back and since then it’s been the only topic up for discussion at the school gate.
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Every day at drop-off and pick-up mums can be seen huddling together, whispering in corners, serving up sly glances.
Which children will be in the class with their offspring? What is the criteria for the split – academic, pastoral?
Some mums – yes, the ones who don’t have to go to work - have even been running around like party whips, drumming up support for a motion that will give the decision over to the parents.
For a large number of these busy-doing-nothing mums the class split is not so much about the children but the parents with whom they want to grab a coffee and a natter.
They don’t want their current cliques culled, their gossip fuelled catch-ups disturbed. Every one of these mums knows a little too much about the other in their little groups. It’s troubling times.
What if So-And-So makes friends with Her-Over-There? Yes, the one only last week the group was speculating was having an affair with the headteacher. Eek! What secrets will be revealed? What will they start saying about us?
Taking my usual stance – forced upon me because I’m too busy to get involved – I have watched the flurry of activity with amusement from the sidelines.
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Of course, there are some children more than others whom I would prefer to be in the class with Master A but I trust the teachers know best – and, quite frankly, I haven’t the time or the inclination to get involved in such intimate machinations
Master A and most of his current classmates are happy with whomever they end up with in the new class. That’s how most children roll. When does that Que Sera attitude vanish, why do we become so afeared of change, so small-minded?
The new class list is due out tomorrow. I’m sure the look on some of those mums faces will be priceless.
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