My little Brindelle deserves so much better than this. I sent her to Hatsville Primary School because out of the available two in our extremely small community, it was the only one with teachers in the plural. It’s very well-equipped for a country school, albeit a country school on the fringes of Melbourne. Has itself a gym, actual classrooms instead of portable sheds, and a whole home economics room, which unfortunately is part of my problem.
In the newsletter last week: ‘Our home economics room is getting commercial stoves and ovens, to really make cooking lessons special for the children.’
Perfect, because my little Brindelle is a budding kitchen genius. She wouldn’t even need any training to use commercial kitchen equipment. She’s be right up there at the front of the class, teaching the teacher how to get that perfect, golden-brown crisp on their muffins.
But now I hear the fund have been allocated to a new photocopier. A new…photocopier…oh, my blood boils a little hearing about it. So my brilliant Brindelle’s skills are being wasted on ordinary, non-commercial-ovens, just so a couple of teachers can continue to kill the environment by printing things that should just be emails. I’m sorry, aren’t projectors a thing? Just project something onto the wall, it’s not hard! Oh, to think of all the talent going to waste. It’s like building an entire wind farm, and then enclosing it with walls to block the wind. That’s how much of a waste it is.
I’m going right down to that school and demanding justice, in the form of a commercial steamer so Brindelle can make her family-famous dim-sims for her school chums. This is truly stifling the shining light of a generation, and I won’t stand for it. Not as a mother, not as a human being.