What to do when the parent of ‘that child’ works at school

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When I was 7, my mum found the perfect job: part time hours, within walking distance of our house, fitted in perfectly with the school holidays: she was our new school secretary. Never has the phrase “double-edged sword” been more appropriate.

I quickly found that I’d never get picked for anything good because it would look like favouritism, and suddenly my teachers knew every little embarrassing thing about me. If I got sent to the headteacher, I had to face my mum’s wrath, too. She played the piano in assembly and was there to see me get hauled up in front of everybody for changing the words ...

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