You just don’t get it, do you, Michael?

Letters from a Swing Voter

Had it not been earlier in the week, I would have assumed Michael Gove’s declaration that the poorest children could now weep with relief because they’d be allowed to go to school on Saturday was just another April Fool. Incredibly, it turns out this is a genuine proposal, and one that was met with a pretty frosty reception from parents, teachers and commentators – in fact, anyone who had been to a mainstream school, it would appear. Just like the kids this proposition fleetingly pays any attention to – the ones who lack confidence, or ability, or even English as a first language – I am lost for words.

Can I ask you a question, Michael? Have you ever spoken to a school-aged child that isn’t your own? I’m assuming, as shadow secretary for schools, you’ve been inside one, but did you go and speak to the kids that weren’t hand-picked to meet you? The ones who come from those ‘broken’ homes Dave keeps talking about; the ones who only get one hot meal a day, and that’s the free lunch at school; the ones without a clean school uniform, or completed homework, or money to pay for the next school trip; the ones who are really, really failing, Michael, so much so that to just sit through an entire lesson without being aggressive or disruptive is as much as they can do? Because I think, Michael, if you did speak to them, you’d realise that giving them the chance to go to school on a Saturday, so they can play musical instruments, isn’t going to cut it.

There are lots of things that upset me about this proposal, but there are two things I’d like to highlight. Firstly, independent schools don’t churn out fantastically abled young adults because they offer classes on Saturdays – if you’re going to learn from the private sector, you can do better than that. And secondly, children are acutely aware of social stigma.

I’ve recently seen some exciting steps towards changing state education – even this week Ed Balls pledged £1.6m as part of a free school meals pilot – but sometimes, yes, they ape the historic legacy of independent schools and the resources they are able to give their lucky students. I occasionally help a start-up run a fantastically successful alumni programme for kids in state schools, giving them the chance to get good careers advice from ‘people just like them’ – ultimately, it’s a national vision of the Old Boys’ networking club, but I believe it’s timely and relevant. The reason it works is because it’s for everyone, not just those who are underperforming, and it’s delivered by former students, during the school week, with no extra work or time required by any of the teaching staff. Michael, can you tell me where the money will come from to pay for your Saturday schools? And have you found a single teacher that isn’t so war-weary that they’d come in over the weekend to deal with the most difficult and hard to reach kids?

And as for the stigma, well, I have a rather long and potted history with schools. I’ve run the gamut from local primary, to grant maintained grammar, a fleeting appearance at a private all girls and then to the third largest comprehensive in the UK, taking in three cities. During my whistlestop tour of the UK’s schooling system, and this might surprise you, my education was pretty consistent – and it was good. What also remained unchanged was the desperation I felt to just be like everyone else, whichever school I was in. Sadly, I was the fat kid with NHS glasses and a school jumper with a massive burn mark on it from when my Dad cursingly singed it on the radiator on the first day of term. I wore that red-hot shame of feeling different than everyone else for years, and it impacts on how I behave now.

Don’t make a generation of children wear the social stigma of being underprivileged, Michael. Don’t make them feel the red-hot shame of being poor because they come in on a Saturday when all their middle class peers are off kicking balls around in the park. If you’ve done nothing else, you’ve shown that you really just don’t get it, do you? You fundamentally do not know what life feels like for the majority of people. I was prepared to ignore Labour’s accusations that the Tories played out their policies on the fields of Eton, because I didn’t think it was fair to tar you all – not least because your female MPs couldn’t go to Eton if they tried. But this comes straight from those hallowed grounds – it’s weak, it’s out of touch, it’s patronising, and it proves that millions of young voters like me don’t have shoulders broad enough to carry all those chips you’ve been handing out.