What to Do When School Is the Problem

It often starts on a Sunday evening. The bath has run. The uniform is folded on the chair. The child, who has been mostly cheerful all weekend, becomes, around six o’clock, quieter than usual. By half past seven she has a stomach ache. By eight she is crying. By Monday morning she is unable, not theatrically so, to get out of bed, and the parent, who has a meeting at nine, is standing in the doorway in her coat trying to work out whether this is the day to push through or the day to ring in sick.

A week later, it is happening on Sunday afternoons. A month later, those have eaten into Saturday evenings. By the second half-term, the child who used to skip into the playground is, on the better days, walking in with her shoulders hunched, and on the worse days, not walking in at all.

In our work, parents arrive in this position often. The school will say, with institutional weight, that she has to come in. The child will say, with absolute clarity, that she cannot bear it. You are the person standing between them, and the person who knows the child best.