Back to school – with no books or toys

As I write, we are just preparing for our return to school.

I say ‘return’, but that is wrong in both senses. I have been going in throughout lockdown, and even now most children will not be returning. Only Year 10s – the first year of GCSES – will be coming back, although school attendance is still not obligatory.

Our primary-school colleagues have paved the way for us, and we are already hearing horrific stories. One mother told me that her reception (four- or five-yearold) child was given a chalked-out square in the playground, outside which she cannot step. There are no books or toys in this child’s classroom. Reading is from a screen, as is writing – pens and pencils are too difficult to keep clean, apparently.

At the other end of the spectrum, a young mother told me that when her son found out schools were open but he was being kept home, he had a meltdown of such misery and despair that she decided to send him in after all.

My own granddaughter is very excited at the prospect of her return, but I am worried that the changes in the school day will disappoint her.

And what about my pupils? My tutor group is in the vanguard of the return, but not all of them will be taking the plunge. The parents are worried: if the children don’t go back, will they miss new content? If they do, will they get sick? The questions from parents are endless and still unanswerable. Will the children wear face masks? How will recess be organised? Will the canteen reopen? What will they gain by returning, and what will they lose?

I know none of the answers. The senior leadership team are working flat out to organise the near future, but they are also having to consider September: it seems unlikely that even then we will be back to ‘normal’.

In addition to all this, our school is expanding in September but the new building will not be finished in time. So we will have more children and the same amount of space, but children will have to be spread further apart.

Never have I been more grateful that I am a mere foot soldier, carrying out orders and flying the flag for common sense and cheerfulness.

As far as I understand it at the moment, the initial return of the pupils will be for a half-hour meeting with their tutors. I suppose this is to reassure them, but if any of them follow the press they are going to be very muddled. We teachers are either apparently lazily taking full pay and too cowardly to do our jobs or, as the Daily Mail put it, we’re potential heroes. ‘Let Our Teachers Be Heroes!’ it bellowed, suggesting we’re about to die.

It is interesting, as I make my calls, to discover which parents are gung-ho about sending their children back and which are more suspicious. And what is really depressing is that the children we most need to see back in school are for the most part those who will not be back.

Every September, we see a slight dip in performance from students after the summer holiday – a dip that’s more obvious among those who are unlikely to have read a book or had much conversation with a grown-up in the six weeks away. These are the children who are also going to find it the hardest to catch up now, after what is already a 12-week gap. It is not the work they have missed that will be hard to catch up on. It is the habit of work. It is the getting-up on time, sitting calmly in a class, doing homework and concentrating on five hours of lessons they will struggle with.

As, to be honest, will we. The school now feels busy on a day with 22 students. I think staff and students will be equally overwhelmed when we are back to full capacity.

I dread it and long for it in equal measure.