The Good Fight

It always used to tingle. We'd all travel together - sharing last minute ideas - arriving at the venue with a mixture of apprehension and sense of purpose. Tine and I had done this many times in the past as part of a Union team - negotiating or advocating on behalf of a member in trouble.

I reminded her in the car last night. I said 'it felt like old times.' She agreed with a sheepish grin. This time, however, we were trying to rescue our son's education. He was going before the School Board to decide whether he was to be 'excluded', expelled!

He'd been involved in a couple of schoolyard fights, both on the same day. He'd been an idiot - as only 13 year old boys can be. He needed reprimanding and some sanction, of course, but to be kicked out seemed an extreme act.

The Chairman was unsmiling, a bad sign. She was taking prompts from the dean and principal, also a bad sign. I should have realised it was a done deal, but we must keep our focus - remain optimistic.

I'd been a Union President for four years. On top of that, I'd graduated from a three year Drama course. I went into the meeting bringing those skills to the table. I felt 'buzzy' and confident.

There was a little roughing up at first. I charged in, seized a point and demanded an answer. Eventually, she caved - I'd made a point - we weren't going to be screwed with.

We had with us a Social Worker and a ton of research. We knew my son's and our rights and I listened to every remark carefully, waiting to use it to our advantage.

I even convinced myself we were on a level playing field and we had a chance of restoring our son's education, but, it was 'process' - his fate had been decided before we ever left home.

An offense against natural justice it must be, but virtually impossible to prove. These guys were used to throwing kids out of school and must be relied on to keep on the side of the law. The High School here has one of the worst reputations in the country for 'excluding' pupils. It offers token support to their 'problems' then dumps them on other schools to repair.

Those 'other schools' are fed up with it and our information is that none of them will take our boy as a pupil. The High School is the only game in town, in any case, and those 'other schools' are far away in the city.

Tine used to have the tenacity of a pit bull in negotiations. She could always be relied on to spit venom at the smug suits. She was great, with her orange, cropped hair - English working class attitude - Persian fire.

I watched her beside me last night struggling to focus, to process, at times confused - it was sad. It was left to me to lead.

I took over, as I can when I'm in form. I spoke at will and reset the agenda. The Chairperson was on the defensive, I could tell from her expression. Everyone told me how well I advocated for my son, with the right amount of levity, charm and emotional intensity - all a colossal waste of effort in the end.

They were never going to allow him to return to that school and we had no chance of persuading them otherwise. We were devastated - it's only slowly sinking in - my son's education is fucked and I couldn't save him.

Could've I done something differently? I've never known a negotiation where one hasn't had misgivings - where there isn't a nagging feeling one could screw a bit more out of the system. I don't know what else I could've said or done.

We continue to pursue the legal angle and are determined to challenge their ruling. It's unlikely to make any difference to my boy, but it might help future pupils and their families from having to go through this.

One last point. One of the board members I felt I recognised. I'm sure we knew each other in the past. It only hit me afterwards.

He was a Hutt Valley boy, like me. He and I did rehab together about 15 years ago. The guy had a 'history.' He was one of us, who's now dogging on all that he came from. He knows what a troubled teen is because he was one. Folks gave him a break, helped him out, set him on the right track so he can pour judgement on kids going through the same shit.

I wish I'd realised that at the time. The Chairperson, herself, was just a dimwitted aparatchnik, but he ought to know better. Screw them!

Don