The plan was simple, if logistically impossible. Our government would ensure every primary pupil would attend school for at least a few weeks before the summer holidays. Two weeks into schools opening their doors to all pupils, the government dropped its “ambition”. During this period, just under half of schools remained closed because the government continued its unfortunate habit of over promising and under delivering.
If the government had bothered to read even its own rules on school reopenings, it might have worked out that its plans were unworkable – just like when Boris Johnson told us at the beginning of March that the UK was “very well prepared” for the virus. But then doctors and nurses couldn’t get their hands on personal protective equipment. Or when he said “the country is going to get through this in good shape, no doubt at all”, only for us to find that, as of 10 days ago, we have so far suffered the second highest death rate from the pandemic in the world.
Anyone with a working knowledge of how to divide by two might have spotted the problem for primary schools. Primary school pupils were, the government said, to be taught in bubbles of 15 in order to maintain some form of social distancing. The average primary class size is 27, meaning schools would immediately require double the number of teachers and classrooms. That’s before we even factor in those that are shielding as a result of their or a loved one’s underlying health conditions. Perhaps the education secretary, Gavin Williamson, was also acting upon “instinct” when he insisted all primary pupils could return to school for four weeks.
It’s worth mentioning that the Scientific Advisory Group for Emergencies warned that the government’s test track and trace system needed to be functional before schools reopened. Cue Johnson declaring that it would be “world-beating” and “in place by 1 June”. The system however, won’t be “fully operational” until September.
When teachers voiced misgivings at the government’s refusal to release modelling of its guidance, and suggested it all appeared unfeasible, parts of the press first claimed that teachers were in open conflict with our unions – the very bodies we join to represent us. The unions were cast as barons, heedless and unwilling to respect our eager pleas to return and endanger our pupils, families and selves.
This narrative tired quickly, and was replaced with one as well worn as my favourite PJs. Teachers, as perennial shirkers, were, in this new version of the story, refusing to “step up” in the nation’s time of need. The problem was that we were too used to long holidays and clocking off at 3pm. It had nothing to do with a lack of trust in a government that had managed to let the virus run wild in care homes, leaving our most vulnerable to fend for themselves. Teachers couldn’t be forgiven for thinking the series of bungled measures was a sign that our government just might not have a clue.
In the week before schools closed in March, the WhatsApp group chat for my daughter’s reception class pinged incessantly with messages. Parents were split between deep distrust of the government’s prevarication and a willingness to give them the benefit of doubt. All of us were struggling, if we were honest, to find a rationale behind the stuttering decision-making of our leaders.
What was the government doing keeping schools open when our closest neighbours – Ireland, France, Germany, Spain and Italy – had already closed theirs? What should parents do in the face of this foot-dragging? Keep children at school, for their family’s sanity, or at home? Those who were being charitable asked for temperance. Our government surely had a credible plan? Somewhere. Right?
In the end, it gave two days’ notice that schools would be closed indefinitely but would remain open to the very vulnerable and children of key workers. This was not clear guidance, given in good time, but a back of the napkin, you-go-on-ahead-and-we’ll-get-back-to-you-on-the-details kind of leadership, a sadly typical feature of Johnson’s government throughout the pandemic.
The scheme to provide vouchers to families of children on free school meals also ended in failure. Edenred, contracted to distribute £234m worth of vouchers to more than 1m homes, did not go through the process of a competitive tender. Thousands were left to go hungry, with teachers donating food or referring families to food banks. And what of the scheme to get 200,000 laptops and tablets to disadvantaged pupils struggling to study at home? Well, that too has had delays. Though, if you believe Gavin Williamson, it remains “on target”. We can’t, I suppose, be surprised.
When it comes to schools, at every stage, the government has botched its handling of the pandemic. When you factor in care homes, PPE, and test track and trace, it looks very much like business as usual.
• Lola Okolosie is an English teacher and Guardian columnist focusing on race, politics, education and feminism
