Suddenly, gloom and despondency is dispelled and the riches of Croesus have become available for investment in school buildings. The leaking roofs and rotting windows of our youth will fade into distant memory, as the pristine, new citadels of the private sector come into view. Some pound;500 million pounds has already been lavished on public-private partnerships in nine council areas across Scotland and the whoops of delight can be heard for miles around.
The roads to Balfron are choked with sightseers anxious to catch a glimpse of the new Balfron High building, glistening in the autumn sunlight. Jim Fleming, the headteacher, is able at last to cast off his donkey jacket and safety helmet.
Education authorities have been lining up to confess to the dilapidated condition of school buildings. Rate capping in the 1980s, the community charge, Conservative parsimony, Labour mismanagement and the weather are all assigned variable shares of the blame, depending on who is proffering judgement.
South Lanarkshire has produced a report indicating that only two of its 21 secondary schools are in very good condition. They will require pound;200 million to be spent to restore them to viable shape for the 21st century. Relying on local authority finance, it is estimated that the pupils currently in Primary 1 would be collecting their pensioners’ bus passes before the job is completed.
Now the heavens have opened and manna has descended from the clouds. Education authorities have been invited to stake their claims by December 14, 2001, for a share of the bag of cash, imaginatively dubbed PPP2, which will be available for replacement and refurbishment of schools.
Bundled projects, as opposed to bungled projects, are preferred to submissions for single establishments. There is no guarantee of success and the lion’s share of the kitty available may go to a small number of authorities. Some may get nothing.
It is hard to believe that the future of so many of Scotland’s school buildings is being decided in such a short timescale. Councils will know early in the new year how big their slice of the PPP cake is likely to be.
Edinburgh has indicated that a “fitness for purpose” survey will be carried out to assess the life expectancy of the capital’s schools. Anxious colleagues have been reliably reassured that this will not include any assessment of the durability of human resources associated with the buildings.
Holy Rood High has made a unique and generous sacrifice for the common good in releasing Mike Wilkins, depute headteacher and timetabler extraordinaire, to work on Edinburgh’s PPP bids. Mike is an ornithologist and he had no sooner educated us on the species of geese on the campus likely to migrate for the winter than he flew the coop himself.
A problem-solver by nature, he has a facility to reduce the most intricate of management conundrums to a simple diagram. Life at Holy Rood High will be more complex without his straightforward pragmatism.
The school is high on the priority list for expansion and renovation. The roll has now surpassed capacity and all available spaces are being metamorphosed into classrooms. An intake of 235 is expected in summer 2002 and deck chairs on the expansive and expensive flat roofs may be the only solution.
Mike’s main function now will be liaison with headteachers. I will eagerly describe to him my preferences for building projects at Holy Rood: no doors that swing in the wind and shatter in smithereens at your feet; no circular buildings, which weans can run around in perpetual motion without ever encountering a wall; no toilets which retaliate.
The PPP will offer a facilities management service. Janitors’ overtime sheets and battles over cleaning will vanish from our daily agenda.
I wonder whether the PPP does school buses?
Pat Sweeney is headteacher at Holy Rood High, Edinburgh
