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What’s the definition of insanity? According to a famous quote – one that’s been attributed to everyone from Einstein to Ben Franklin and Mark Twain – it’s doing the same thing over and over again, yet expecting different results.
My personal lapse into insanity came when I rejoined the school WhatsApp group, despite leaving the Year 2 group in protest, once before. Back then, my very public flouncing was the result of realising it caused me unnecessary stress; that I didn’t need to be arguing online with someone I’d never exchanged more than a brief smile with at the school gate. I got out, and felt better immediately.
Until I got sucked in, again. Right before lockdown.
We all make mistakes – turns out, mine was agreeing to rejoin the collective virtual space set aside for parents in our year group to remind each other about non-uniform day, quibble over the price of tickets for the summer fair, and – most recently – argue bitterly about schools reopening in June.
Our children’s school in London had originally planned to reopen to nursery, Reception, Year 1 and Year 6 kids on June 1, but – following advice from the local authority and The Independent SAGE Report – the headteacher wrote to us to explain he couldn’t, in good conscience, say it was completely safe. He extended the closure until June 15 – and that was like throwing a petrol bomb into the gasoline field of WhatsApp.
One parent described the decision as a “fail”. Another said the school should “hang their heads in shame”. People turned on each other; posting sarcastic laughing emojis, calling each other names, using words that would have us all sending our kids to the naughty step. You could see mobile phone numbers popping up in the search field, typing and then deleting, as people raced to add their two cents worth – before thinking better of it.
We all have our own points of view, of course – based on experience, fear or personal circumstance – but I left the first group because I thought WhatsApp messages about kids being at school were bad. Now, the argument was around whether kids should be at school in the first place, and it was heated.
I’ll confess – full disclosure – I didn’t stay silent. I couldn’t. Some comments felt like listening to a relative making an off-colour joke around the dinner table at Christmas. If these go unchallenged, you risk them seeming acceptable.
I want my kids to return to school, when it’s safe to do so, as much as anyone. But calling for members of school staff, many of whom have put their own health at risk for months to teach the kids of key workers, to “hang their heads in shame” was a red line I simply couldn’t ignore.
In the end, however, it went the way these things always go; it descended into an unattractive tit-for-tat. When you care about something passionately, it can feel like the social ripples are worth it if you succeed in persuading just one other person to hear you out.
But in the gladiatorial arena of a school WhatsApp group, it ends up being less a case of “sharing an important message” and more a case of “who can shout loudest”. And sometimes it descends into all-out bullying.
Still, I’m grateful for it. It reminded me of that important and mysterious quote about insanity, for one – and of something else, that’s just as vital: don’t join the WhatsApp group, next year.