Helen Burness was working from home on Monday when the email arrived. In less than 24 hours, her nine-year-old daughter was set to return to school after the long summer break.
The email was from the principal. The school had been forced to shut, the official wrote apologetically, because of concerns about unsafe concrete in its buildings.
Burness’s daughter, Marigold, has a rare chromosomal disorder and attends a specialist speech and language school for children with complex learning needs. She had been both nervous and excited about starting the new school year, and her parents had spent weeks helping her prepare.
Burness’s heart sank as she realised she would have to tell Marigold that the plan had changed — with no idea when the issue might be resolved.
“It’s been kind of in free fall really,” said Burness, 44, of how the week has played out. “And how much longer will it be?”
By Thursday morning, Burness and her husband, who both run their own businesses, were juggling parenting duties and their jobs, unable to find specialist child care at short notice. On Friday, the school said classes would resume the following week, but added that some rooms would be inaccessible and adjustments would have to be made.
Britain’s Conservative government has faced acute criticism since the announcement last week that more than 100 schools would have to close buildings because of the presence of reinforced autoclaved aerated concrete, or RAAC, a bubbly, lightweight material known to pose a risk of sudden collapse.
About 10,000 students had their start of year delayed, according to government data, and in an unwelcome reminder of pandemic lockdowns, thousands of children were moved either to fully remote learning or to a mix of in-person and remote learning.
For parents of students asked to stay home, the days since the announcement have been a scramble to find last-minute babysitters and reorganise lives. For special needs students, the distress caused by the school shutdown can be even more acute.
“Our lifeline is her school,” said Burness, as she set up her laptop for her day’s work while Marigold wandered the kitchen and watched The Little Mermaid on television. As well as speech and language therapy, her school provides physical activities and more traditional learning. While staff members have done their best to support parents, Burness said, she felt let down by the government’s inaction.
“Take some accountability for this epic fail. Be accountable,” she said. “This didn’t need to get to this crisis point.”
At Kingsdown School, 64km east of London, the grounds were preternaturally quiet. The only signs of life were two workers climbing a ladder onto the flat roof of a building.
Another specialist school for children with complex learning needs, Kingsdown was also set to begin classes this week, but shut days before the start of the school year because of RAAC. Lydia Hyde, a local councillor in Southend from the Opposition Labour Party, said there was deep frustration from local authorities, parents and teachers that action wasn’t taken earlier.
“For some of these children, it’s their first school term,” Hyde said. “All of the children were excited, planning and preparing for school, and then it just didn’t happen.”
New York Times News Service