Swearing, Squabbles And Rogue Instagram Posts: Welcome To The PTA

And the best bit? No-one can fire you…

‘Listen yeah – if Mrs Evans wants us to fund her classroom upgrades, and I’ll say this to her face, then she needs to give us access to her f*ck!ng classroom when we want to fundraise!’. This is how our last PTA monthly Zoom started.

Whilst my experience of being on a PTA draws some similarities with the BBC’s Amandaland, it’s much less like being in a microcosm of middle-class ambition and insecurity and more like being on an alternative version of The Apprentice, where the tasks are emotionally high-stakes, the deadlines are really real, you’re part of six pass-agg WhatsApp groups, the Board (teachers) are not setting you up for success, but no one’s getting fired.

A recent Times article revealed that PTAs in the UK have evolved from modest fundraising groups into sophisticated, business-like operations that raise significant sums to support increasingly underfunded schools. I’m not sure my PTA is sophisticated or business-like but, as one of the few remaining community schools (council run) in our area, our school is certainly struggling financially, so fundraising is a welcome relief to cash-strapped school projects and some parents alike. One in five kids at our school is living with some degree of deprivation, slightly better than the national average, but it’s bleak whichever way you slice it. Crudely, that means the rest are seemingly doing well enough to have supported our PTA, which, through hard graft, sheer grit, luck and determination, raised £30k last year.

It wasn’t that I chose to join the PTA, I was coerced. 18 months ago, new to the school and area, I nosily went along to a PTA coffee break. I guess I’d always fancied myself a ‘PTA Mom’ – able to have a bit of a nosey into how the school is run, on first name basis with the Head, influencing by proxy what type of experiences my kids are going to have when I’m not making ALL of the decisions…

I thought there might be some sort of application process or even a waiting list. WRONG! Sitting at a child-sized lunch bench, knees in my face and sipping PTA coffee (with hindsight best avoided), I naively mentioned that the PTA socials account didn’t have many followers. With very tenuous relevant experience, no application process or vetting, without really agreeing to it, I was appointed Head of MarComms before I’d finished my coffee.

I now know that this is a recruitment tactic used to enrol new PTA recruits – find out what they do for work, appeal to their better nature, flatter them for their insight, tepid beverage – SNARE. And now that I’m on the PTA, it’s a tactic I wholeheartedly support. PTAs need all the people and all the help they can get.

It’s an interesting group – made up of working and middle-class professionals, much like the area we live in. Because we haven’t been hired or appraised for our skills, we’re fudging together whatever worldly experience we have and managing to make something out of it. It’s interesting to observe how everyone has a level of professionalism that they bring to the PTA but also how, and maybe because it’s not really our job, things that would probably never fly at work go unchecked – squabbling, swearing, unapproved purchases, rogue Instagram posts all fly under the radar – or at the very least go unmentioned.

Or maybe, much like my kids after school, having carefully chosen their words and self-policing their behaviour all day, they come home and let it all hang out. But in this case, home is the WhatsApp group/shared email/Zoom. The PTA is the place where you really can bring your whole self to work without repercussion.

Our PTA isn’t encouraged to make up the shortfall in school funding, our head teacher won’t allow it. I think politically, it doesn’t bode well for a Head if you’re being propped up by your PTA. Instead, we are encouraged to fund opportunities that build community around our school through our events and offers of support. I think the logic is (although I’m still trying to work it out) that increasing the dialogue between school, parents and children will provide community and social benefits that support a more harmonious environment where our kids can thrive – or maybe that’s me trying to come up with a strapline to copy and paste into grant applications so that we can smash this year’s fundraising target.

Our fundraising efforts look like you might expect, a school fayre, funky hair days, parent quiz nights and easter egg hunts. The churn is relentless, but we raise enough to subsidise things like school trips, leavers shirts, and classroom and playground upgrades – not essential but nice to have. So, whilst the financial ROI on PTA hours is low, our efforts ensure every child gets to take part, make lasting memories and feel supported by the school, regardless of their home situation which hopefully takes the pressure off some parents – WIN. People, Purpose and Pounds – the triple bottom line of the PTA.

Like most things, being on the PTA you get out what you put in. And in my PTA, what you put in is up to you. There are some parents who I know are putting in some serious hours – thank you – and more power to you! I don’t have the luxury of time, or quite frankly the drive or organisational skills to be the Alpha PTA mom I’d once fantasized about being, but I do my bit, and I know that it’s making a difference.

PTAs need people who are tenacious and driven, focused and creative, resourceful, caring, overcommitted (in the best way), and just unfiltered enough to say what needs to be said. Whatever our motivations for joining the PTA, we’re all in agreement that we want to raise as much as we can to support better outcomes for our kids and we all give as much as we can to make that happen. So come on, Mrs Evans – give us your f*ck!ng classroom?