First day at school

 First day at school

Somebody mentioned something about school yesterday and all hell broke loose. Now, let's be honest there is nothing inherently wrong or abhorrent about school. But yesterday was one of those days when you knew that some embarrassing gaffe or clanger had been committed to memory and dwelt upon for the entire day. You know where this is going or maybe not in which case this may be the time to analyse the damage limitation that yesterday's events and commentary left behind them. A Tory politician said some rude words and the obscenities were picked up almost immediately.

Gillian Keegan is the Secretary State of Education and seemingly one of Rishi Sunak's loyal aides who will do anything to make herself look good under any circumstances. She knows she has to toe the party line because if anything unfortunate or unsavoury slips out of her mouth then consequences will inevitably follow. So here's we're at in the bigger picture. You've had a tough and gruelling day in the rarefied world of politics, you just want to get home and close the door behind you. You've had enough of the stinging criticisms, the sharp end of everybody's tongue, the controversy building behind you and the negativity around you is beginning to get on your nerves.

So what do you do? You negotiate one final Spanish inquisition, bluff your way seemingly convincingly through the awkward interrogation and you simply flip. You think nobody can hear you muttering under your breath so you try to pretend that the ear piece has been removed, the microphone is off and you deserve not only a glass of brandy or whisky but a good, old fashioned swear word or words. By the time the aforesaid interview you just want to get out of the building, kick off your heels and just forget about your hectic day.

There was a point during her interview with the media yesterday when Gillian Keegan must have thought her sense of entitlement and exalted position in the House of Commons would let her off the hook, guaranteeing her impunity and making her exempt from withering jibes, put downs and sneering hostility from her Labour counterparts. Sadly, this was not to be the case for Mrs Keegan and she knew it. She didn't get away from it and the hot pokers of anger that were being stamped mercilessly against her back were almost tangible. You could feel Keegan's embarrassment, the self conscious yelp of remorse and the desperate yearning for a hole to swallow her up.

Yesterday marked the first day back at infant, junior, primary and secondary school for the children of the world. After six often challenging weeks for parents up and down the country, the kids who were out for summer are now back behind their classroom desks. For some mums and dads it is the one day of the year when all the boredom and frustration the kids had been experiencing had now been replaced with relief and exultation. Happy Days are here again. The skies are blue. Happy Days are here again. We all know the song. 

But then those in the higher echelons of British education realised quite by chance that there was something dangerous in the air. It was something sinister and quite disturbing. For decades and perhaps a century now the shamefully dilapidated state of our schools had finally hit home. The truths were there to be exposed and revealed to all and sundry. Somebody must have noticed the horrific cracks in the brickwork, the precarious state of buildings that probably hadn't seen a lick of paint for longer than any of us would care to remember.

So we watched the news bulletins and try to put this one into perspective. You do remember your first day at secondary school and you could probably recall your first day at primary school but you'd be forgiven for thinking that the images are now blurred. But you looked up at the walls of your school and you couldn't believe how grubby and ancient they must have looked. You saw the boys entrance to the school assembly hall and there was so much grime and dirt etched almost indelibly on it that you wondered if your health might be compromised because of such deplorable neglect.

Of course you were on safe ground and nothing untoward would happen to you. For all its apparent decrepitude and decay the health and safety inspectors must have given it their thumbs up. But little did we know at the time that the school itself might have had several hidden areas where something didn't really look right. There were cracks in the whole infrastructure of the building and frankly it's a wonder that there wasn't any terrifying subsidence overnight otherwise goodness knows how our parents would have reacted had the school just fallen to the ground.

The reports coming out of yesterday's shock horror news about our children's schools could hardly be registered or believed. There were several high profile primary and secondary schools which will now close down for the foreseeable future. The only reason for these alarming developments can be traced back to years of complacency, criminal negligence, a sense that none could ever be bothered to take any kind of decisive action when it mattered so vitally. Somebody had to rectify ages old problems but of course we were now the laughing stock of the world.

But school were our essential foundation stone of our lives, our fundamental building bricks, our education and introduction to a young world. Now though we make a terrible discovery. Those seemingly impregnable bricks and mortar have been examined quite thoroughly and the bad news is that drastic measures have to be taken. They've probably been since the outbreak of the First World War and in some cases decades before. Yesterday then the penny finally dropped and self awareness set in with a vengeance. Our kids livelihoods are at stake and we all know how important that is.

Above it all though there was Gillian Keegan, a hitherto respectable politician who was just trying to earn a decent crust and then there was an explosion. She responded to a perfectly straightforward question and then assumed that everything had been carried out in a satisfactory fashion. But then a voice in her head which, in retrospect, must have been ignored at source, egged her on and before you could blink or gasp, she broke all of the rules and regulations.

Your memory takes you back to the Labour government under Gordon Brown who had just completed an innocent, heart to heart conversation with a member of the public. Canvassing for votes Brown got back into his car and then started muttering complaints and whispered objections to the way a woman had ruined his day. Brown had been drawn into a trap he couldn't escape from. On the one hand he simply wanted to ingratiate himself to the voting people who were about to vote for him again. Then there were references to ghastly women and disparaging comments about her politics and that was it for another day.

And so it was that Gillian Keegan thought she'd survived yet another intensive grilling from the Press. She took off her microphone, composed herself for a minute or two and then spotted a convenient opening, a chance to achieve fifteen minutes of notoriety. Let's see whether she could make her own headlines for a change and catch everybody off guard. So Keegan sniggered for a moment, took a deep breath and then just spat out the obscenities that are now well documented. We've heard them a million times in any context and conversation but from a politician they sound childishly silly.

Sometimes a week in the House of Commons must be the most uncomfortable bearpit of gossip, heckling, haranguing, disapproval and outright opprobrium. They shout at each other as if the whole afternoon is some vindictive grudge match and then just keep arguing because they just love the sound of their own vocal chords. This turns into a fierce competition that neither the Tories, Labour or Lib Dems can ever win since we can neither make head or tail about what exactly they're ranting about.

But yesterday was a microcosm of a much bigger problem. In her defence Keegan looked thoroughly fed up with the same questions over and over again but then thought she'd give the man from the media the full, no holds barred treatment. She swore and then cursed for just a minute or two, content in the knowledge that there was still just a window of redemption, an opportunity to apologise and say sorry because of course the language had been strong and she'd never do it again.

And so it is that today will dawn for Rishi Sunak, the Prime Minister will sit down with his united Cabinet, rubbing sore heads perhaps and swotting away the troubles of Monday afternoon as just a mild irritant. At the moment the market research men and women who design all of those polls we peruse at our leisure have now reached their latest conclusions. It doesn't really look good for the Conservative Party at all and with a General Election now scheduled for either late or early 2024, Sunak still looks and sounds like a computer science university student.

He smiles winsomely for the cameras and the suit does fit but we have now reached the point when the general consensus is that the Tories are just shooting themselves in their proverbial feet. Their sell by date has now long since gone and the nation is impatient, restless and Middle England is grumbling because they've had enough of the Tories. But nobody here cares one jot because the whole process of a General Election does tend to leave you feeling completely disillusioned. Anybody for Donald the Duck as a credible contender for Prime Minister. He could hardly do any worse than the current incumbent.