Right, first off let’s de-mystify the acronyms: Southend High School for Girls, Westcliff High School for Boys. Two grammar schools that score highly in national league tables, which both of my kids managed to enter on merit. As one of them remains in secondary education, this is not the place for a discussion of that concept. Once that situation changes, I suspect there will be a remarkable amount to say.

For now, I’m going to let this poem do the talking for me.

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Hatches, Matches and Dispatches

To proud parents, delivered
years worry, postcode lottery’s
unlucky numbers. Our best start,
should we move six feet left
vain hope grass will perk up;
bettering other kid’s chances
two leg fixture, undecided.

To lucky parents, announced
attainment average enough
three years coaching congratulates…
Best school, their right, polled
choice, bright future steeped with
budget cuts, begging letters
discretionary donations.

To distraught parents, despair
education, ultimately fails:
same mistakes made. Skin
scarred, alcohol; teaching
relevance will not reform
only enlightenment, grasping
future, theirs to change.