The end is in sight

 

The end is in sight

                                Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons 

For some, in Scotland, it has already arrived but the rest of the United Kingdom must wait until the beginning of September for the end of the looooonnnnng summer holidays and the start of the new academic year. Quite why Scotland has to be out of step with everyone else is anyone’s guess. Maybe it has something to do with being much further north, with shorter daylight hours in winter, though that seems illogical on a warm day in the middle of August before the clocks have gone back.

     Regardless of start of term dates, small children about to begin the 14-year journey called ‘school’ will have been hauled or are still being dragged from shoe shop to hair dresser to uniform suppliers to stationers to set them up with everything they could possibly ever need and may not necessarily ever use. Hereafter, thrift shops or PTA organisations do a roaring trade in good quality, second-hand uniform.

Thus, tiny girls and boys are thrust into unfamiliar clothes which are too long and too broad, but which leave plenty of room ‘for growth’. This is particularly noticeable if the child is about to enter an ‘independent’ school – that is, not a state school.

 Independent schools often require garments that are not easily available online or in the chain stores. Indeed, some schools insist that all uniform must be bought from the official uniform suppliers, at official uniform prices, of course. The colours are sometimes startling, and the cut can be unique. I have seen small girls drowning in ankle-length plaid kilts, which will last them until they are 16. Uniform manufacturers don’t realise that most small humans don’t have much in the way of hips and waists, so skirts and trousers are constantly slipping down and shirts and blouses are always untucked.

I remember one very small, very young boy appearing at school, an independent one, on his first day, in the entirety of his winter uniform. This comprised knee-length socks, long trousers, long-sleeved shirt, tie, jumper, blazer and duffel coat. I don’t think he was wearing his school scarf, but cannot be sure. He could hardly move and was extremely warm. Older, wiser children with greater experience, were wearing summer uniform. The duffel coat was cut in such a way and made of material so stiff that a child could move around inside it independently, like a hamster in its skin.

I don’t know which committee of people decides what a school uniform should be, but there is not much thought given to practicality. The youngest children in school are at different stages of development.  In the Reception class, to which children are admitted in the September following their 4^th birthday, there will be a range of ages, abilities and experience. The oldest child in the class may be 5 soon after the beginning of term in September, while the youngest may only just have had their 4^th birthday at the end of August or even the beginning of September. Some may even still be wanting an afternoon nap and will find a full school day very tiring, notwithstanding a new routine, new children, big adults with scary voices.  They are still very tender.

Changing for P.E. can take an entire lesson, even with a teaching assistant to help. Stiff button-holes defeat little fingers, some may be reluctant to remove their socks, others may get completely carried away and strip off as if ready for a bath. Getting changed back is challenging. Arms can’t find armholes, jumpers go on back to front, shoes, often someone else’s, are forced onto the wrong feet, and all this alongside sometimes uncertain bladder control or worse in the very youngest and least mature.

Somehow, the children survive unsettling activities – lining up for lunch is very different to sitting down quietly at home with mummy, the toilets are often less than appealing, choice of partner is limited and sometimes non-existent and the child may have to hold hands with another who made faces earlier. Going to the hall for assembly is worrying – it’s a large, echoing room with lots of big children! The playground is noisy and everyone has to go outside, even if they don’t want to, especially if they don’t want to.

Eventually, ‘home time’ arrives and the children rush to their relieved parents (relieved because the child survived the day without mishap) and who bombard them with questions. ‘What did you do today? Who did you play with? Did you eat all your lunch? What’s your teacher like? Did you have a nice day?’

A school day is a work day and, just like adults, children often do not wish to discuss their day. They have had no choice in their activities or their companions. They have had to sit when told, stand when told, go to the toilet, wash their hands, queue up for lunch, go out to play, line up to come in again, join one group for one activity, go to another for something different.

Children will speak about their day when they are ready, but it may not be anything to do with what they may or may not have learnt. It will be something random, like ‘I want to wear glasses’.