We don't need no education

Which is just as well, what with teachers constantly needing to meet targets, nag parents a lot and generally concentrate on keeping authoritative adults happy.

It seems, now that Husband has become plain Husband again - back at work, out of my hair and reasonably healthy - and I've got some time to myself to chase up work and think about writing, that I've got the time and mental space to start becoming Angry from Norfolk again. Which always happens in the case of me and school. It did while I was there and it's worse now that I'm not but my child is.

Is it just me? Or does it seem to anyone else that schools, thwarted of the right to power-trip over kids anymore, now pick on the parents?

Not only do we get terse, snitty little letters home about how crap we are because we don't basically sign over the equivalent of a mortgage payment and seal a document in blood allowing them rights over our time, but two days ago, I turned up at school to find a couple of policemen taking down people's number plates during the morning school run.
Then, yesterday, a pompous, threatening letter home informing parents that those who flout parking 'rules' will be fined, slapped with penalties and, should they dare flout again, have their car taken away. A tad strong, I feel, for a village cul-de-sac road with no lines and no signs.

Not to mention that it is the school's policy to have a mere 10 minute window for parents to drop their kids off. I know. I KNOW. The answer is blindingly obvious. But the Acting Head, failing to be convinced that to open the gates for even an extra 10 mins a morning, might just help with congestion a little, refuses to accept this. Apparently, they can't afford to staff the playground for an extra hour a week, and they need all their time to get ready for the day.

I hate to sound like I have a problem with parochialism, but have these people forgotten what life in a city is like?
This is a village school with 110 kids. There's no breakfast club and no after-school club. And while it might be a great little school, it hardly boasts the same workload as a junior in inner city London, Manchester, Birmingham, or even, for the love of God, Norwich. There isn't even one child in the school who doesn't have middle-class English as its first, probably ONLY language. (And I don't care what teachers say about how hard it is. You do a short day and get 13 weeks of paid holiday a year, so you have plenty of time to recover, don't you?)

Lordy mama. If it's not paperwork, or trying to make you bring or buy something, remembering tokens, spellings, homework, keeping up with your 'bills', attending the assemblies, sports days, plays, party, fete, barbecue, fundraisers, booksales, it's outright threats.

Vive la revolution!