Our author has already experienced a lot. But the parents’ council is always a very special parallel universe for her.
This text first appeared here brigitte.de.
I did it again. Third child, third daycare group, third time the same mistake: I once again opened my mouth too wide at the parents’ evening and am now being elected to the parents’ council with a fellow sufferer without being asked. Resistance is futile, the educators already look completely exhausted.
This is mainly due to the fact that most of the occupied and, above all, all the unoccupied seats show a yawning disinterest in them. A no would finish them off, so I roll my eyes and write my name in the minutes and I already know: I will bitterly regret that.PAID STERN Nido child from ONS_21.30h
The parent elite among themselves
So since that memorable evening, I’ve been sitting – again – month after month at the parents’ council meeting. You won’t find any yawning disinterest there. Because on these evenings you are finally among yourself. We, the committed parents. We, who rise above all those who put milk slices in their children’s lunch boxes. We, who accompany excursions, stock cake buffets, donate a change of clothes and talk about the “others” as if we didn’t belong. I know very well that I could well and, above all, like to be one of them.
Well, maybe it wouldn’t be the Milchschnitte, but maybe my mice would occasionally discover one less carrot and one more biscuit in their boxes if I wasn’t accidentally a member of the parents’ council, i.e. the self-proclaimed Best Mums Club. Mums – a good keyword, because nowhere is gendered so abnormally as at school and daycare events. Clichés suddenly reach unimagined spheres!
“The Strong Man” and “The Hardworking Mother”
So the parents’ council meets: Nine mothers and three fathers got carried away. One more voluntary, the other less voluntary. But the dynamic pulls. After five minutes of discussion, we are all in. As if we had nothing else to do in life, we plan summer festivals, theme weeks and basically discuss everything that has been discussed over the past twenty years and yet has never changed. The division between men and women is particularly interesting. The latter discuss everyday issues, two of the fathers only intervene when the mothers are going round in circles. With an ultra-casual mansplaining lecture of the very highest quality, they throw down a verbal lifebelt with a smug grin. Questioning faces remain because the men in question enter the daycare center twice a month at most.
Nothing more needs to be said about the lack of reality in the verbal contributions. Third man is actually a phenomenon that exists in almost all rounds: This one father who embodies equality personified. He’s the one who notices that “strong men” and “hard-working helper moms” are being looked for in the parents’ letter. He asks if that wouldn’t be a bit sexist. And I want to kiss him. It’s just not the right frame here. Photo gallery WhatsApp
When the aggro bomb explodes
Going around in circles and the vague feeling that your own name has somehow ended up on too many contact lists makes us subliminally aggressive. Until one bursts. As always. The debate about the question: “What if the child is no longer supposed to sleep at lunchtime at the age of 3” escalates to a level that only Merkel and Seehofer otherwise climb.
The father of divorce is accused of not knowing anything about children, the daycare manager has long been caught in the crossfire, the pastor’s wife is called a mother hen. And I think: Welcome to Guantanamo!
It gets worse at school
That only happened to me once with the parents’ council at school. Didn’t pay attention for a moment, bang, I was a representative. The only problem is that I didn’t want to represent the sometimes completely crazy interests of my parents. One fought heroically for cellphones as a basic right for eight-year-olds on school trips. The next wanted to know why the first name in the German book is ALI. “It’s not really German”…
The third was in favor of the class going to Disneyland for 600 euros and the fourth also wanted to deregister his child from “values and norms” because those are not HIS values and norms that are taught there. No, that’s clear. I will definitely not represent any of that. I don’t even want to talk about the Advisory Board per se. If the daycare advisory boards are in the regional league, you play at the national level from the first grade. Nobody really understands how fun it is anymore. Because it’s about education.
Advisory boards – a parallel world far removed from reality
But back to the day-care center: The biggest problem with parents’ councils is implementation. Because what was fermented between a few over-committed parents must then be implemented in general. And I want to put it this way: What does Gaby from Hoferstraße care about, what does Helene from the Geigerviertel think about the milk slices in the bread box or the missing change of clothes? The fact that the summer festival is taking place is not necessarily great news for every parent.
And so in August the mums on the advisory board stand alone behind stands full of homemade cakes, sell the good stuff for the benefit of the day care center and still haven’t done anything against the milk cuts.
At least they can rely on the advisory board dads for that. They like to buy cakes and explain to their female colleagues that everything would work out much better if you put the apple juice bottles on the left. “Just saying. And bye.” How nice!