I’m all CRB’d out, thanks November 12, 2009

*sigh*

 

What a week. If  home educators haven’t been accused of being mentally ill , pregnant women accused of being unfit because of their houses being half-decorated,  mothers fined for feeding the ducks, then all the rest of us should never, ever look at a child, go near a child, help a child or indeed be within a hand-span radius of a child. Unless of course you have a magic bit of paper that tells you and the whole, wide world that you are safe, safe, safe.

 

Take today for instance. I went to a meeting today that just so happened to be in a Children’s Centre.

The ones that have sprung up like posh little lean-to’s at the side of most primary schools. They are heated VERY well, have lovely carpetskitchenswhiteboards&ergonomicallydesignedchairs. Posters adorn every wall in joyous colours. And its all for the kids, and anyone with any (good, wholesome and clean) interest in kids.

Never seen a kid in one. However…

 

At my meeting today we were told, in no uncertain terms that we were to leave the building at or preferably before 12 noon. The meeting was to finish then, and there could be No Lingering. No popping to the loo, no running back for forgotten coats or queries. Move directly to the Door, and do not pass go.

 

Why?

 

Well, apparently the superduperlovely Children’s Centre also houses the canteen (methinks that they just chopped a bit of the school off and rebranded it).

 

The shiny-faced and possibly ravenous children have to cross from their school, across the foyer and into the canteen. Our meeting- a women’s group of voluntary workers were in a secure room off the foyer.

 

The children must not meet us. Nor see us, nor ever know that we were there.

 

Again, why?

 

Are they so dangerous, these children, that they might eat us, claw our eyes out, demand our child-safe credentials?

 

Ahh- that I can do. You see, I’m all good. I have the bit of magic paper, as do all the other ladies. In fact I have had about 7 of these magic bits of papers in the last few years. And I have been referenced too. And Police Checked.

They haven’t done a DNA profile or fingerprinting on me yet. I’m sure it’s just a matter of time. I am expecting a full-body x-ray invitation any day soon. Just in case I’m ‘packing’ a bag of sweeties or a basket of puppies in my handbag.

 

If it’s not me that’s the problem- it must be the kids that are a problem for me. Mabe they have a secret conker-hoarder that somehow avoided being frisked on the way into school ( those darn conkers can cause a nasty slip injury- there’s a poster on the wall to prove it).

 

This is accepted. The meeting went ahead, and we scurried out like guilty people, lest we accidentally got in the way of A Child. Why did I accept it? I’m not sure. Groupthink maybe, a slow surrender to whatever will be will be. A desire to be part of the meeting that morning.

 

I regret it.

 

But now, in my own home, with my own children, whom I didn’t need to be CRB checked to have, and don’t need to be CRB checked to raise while under 5 (so far), and for whom I will most definitely be saying NO to being licenced  in order to facilitate their learning- I realised, too late, that I should have stood up and asked very loudly, WHY?