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A Christening of Convenience How far would you go to get your child into a good school? By Tracey Davies Forget the endless hours of excruciating labour, the centuries of sleepless nights and the blue-cheeked tantrums in Tesco’s. For many the most painful part of child-rearing has to be school admissions - the life-deciding task of getting your precious one into a decent school. Many are the tales of parents putting their child’s name down at the school of their choice before the placenta emerges, but what happens if you are not Victoria Beckham and you cannot afford to send Chardonnay-Jade to Roedean? Your choice is often limited to the local state schools or a faith school. Often parents favour the route of faith schools as they generally have better results than our state run friends. You want the best for your little angel but if that means re-evaluating your beliefs would you and could you fake it as a Christian? Back when my boy was a babe-in-arms, I remember having a wine-fuelled discussion with a good friend of mine about schooling. Her and her husband had agreed to have their daughter christened and start going to the local church, even though they were atheists, in order to get her into the only decent school in the area. At the time, I was outraged, I thought it ridiculous to change your beliefs in order to fool the school admissions and wipe out any chance of a Sunday lie-in for the foreseeable future in the process. But now I’m not so sure. As soon as the candles were blown out on my son’s third birthday cake, the pressure was on. In my part of south east London, the area I live and love, the good state schools are few and far between and vastly over-subscribed. The two nearest state primary schools are both at the bottom of the London school league and the ofsted reports are much to be desired. Funds cannot stretch to the local preps and with only these options available, my friends plan now does not seem quite so outrageous. But, do you have to be a card-carrying, church-attending, tank-top wearing Christian to be allowed to attend a church school, or can you simply say ‘yes, my chosen religion is blah blah, I’ll turn up to the summer fete but I have better things to do on a Sunday morning.’ Unfortunately for most it seems yes, speaking to my local C of E school governor it seems you do, although more and more are offering the odd community place to heathens hiding in their catchment areas. There are currently around 7,000 faith schools in England, 600 secondary and 6,400 primary. The vast majority are Christian, with just a handful of Jewish, Muslim and Sikh schools. So the decision to ‘fake it’ should not to be taken lightly. For one, how far do you go? Is it as sacrilegious to impersonate the more laid back Church of England follower as it is to fabricate your devotion as a Roman Catholic in order to get Tristan into St Holier than thou’s? And then once you’re in, what happens if you have one Saturday night bottle of wine too many, a quick roll in the Sunday morning hay and before too long the pile-inducing church pews are but a distant memory. Will a faith school unceremoniously kick a child out who hasn’t attended church since the first term due to her lax parents? One of the most popular primary schools in south London is in Dulwich Village. Competition is red hot and parents will sink lower than a toads belly to secure a position. The mere 28 places are first offered to siblings, then to dedicated members of the church and the lucky one or two who live closest to the school also get a shot. Although you need to have attended the church for over two years and be recommended by the vicar, it doesn’t stop the congregation increasing dramatically in the run-up to school admissions deadline. I spoke with the mother of one of the lucky ones, who is a regular attendee at the local church. She informed me of some of dastardly deeds that parents resort to each year, from attempting to bribe local residents with thousands of pounds to use their address for the school application, to offering large donations to the church in exchange for a letter of recommendation. At her church alone, every year the vicar receives hundreds of pleas for references, the majority from complete strangers. Another couple new to the area said they had it all planned. Join the local church for a couple of months as ‘newcomers’, slip their kid into the pretty church school at the end of the road and clap with glee at the thousands they have saved from the local prep school. With intentions like this, it is understandable why members of the church get miffed when their child is pipped at the post by a smug Henry/Henrietta who has just moved in. On the other side, I spoke to a local mum who has just got her daughter into the local Roman Catholic school, when asked whether she was a good catholic girl, she said ‘Oh no, but my husband was confirmed a catholic, although I don’t think he had attended church since the 70’s. We looked into it and all joined the local church just so she could get in. It worked, she is into a good school, her brother will follow and all I have given up is my Sunday mornings, oh and my beliefs, but I have gained peace of mind and hopefully a well-educated child.’ So if the choice is a faith school or an under-performing state school, I will choose the former where I would like him to learn the three R’s and grow up into a nice respectable boy who enjoys and appreciates education, okay, that may be asking too much, but I don’t want him being influenced by a continuous stream of swearing, fighting and general bad behaviour and that’s just from the teachers. It seems the general view of parents in our area, both churchgoers and non, is that there are just not enough places at the good schools in the area. And if folk go down the route of ‘faking it’, it is out of pure desperation to get a decent, funded education for their child. So with all this in mind, is a christening of convenience worthwhile? In my view, if it helps the cause then yes. But it would be a low-key affair in the vein of a shotgun wedding, a necessity rather than a celebration. Godparents dragged in off the street, a quick renouncing of Satan and then off to the pub for a celebratory glass of warm Riesling and a scotch egg. Who knows, it may work but if not there’s always home schooling! More tea vicar? |
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© copyright 2005 - 2008 Tracey Davies - all rights reserved |
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