My father was head of a school for extremely challenging children. At first glance, the student population didn't differ all that much from what you might encounter at an average science faculty nowadays: predominantly white, predominantly male, with a healthy dose of stubbornness. But I digress.
He was also active nationally as a board member for the association promoting Special Education. In that capacity, he wrote pieces (read: blogs) for the association newsletter (read: magazine), under the cleverly chosen title "What on earth are we up to?"
I often read them. Sometimes they were mainly about what the board members themselves were working towards. These were undoubtedly useful for informing the membership, but — with all due respect — also rather dull. Not something for this column then; by way of compensation, I'm happy to refer you to the next meeting about the budget cuts on 8 July and the website.
Other times, he positioned himself against the politics in The Hague, usually against the state secretary of the day — in the sense of: "what on [God's green - even then entirely in keeping with the often Christian disposition of the minister concerned] earth are we up to?" With we as an ironically inclusive rhetorical device for those nincompoop.
I found that second type of piece more difficult. They may have been more enjoyable to read, but the chances of the state secretary actually reading them seemed rather slim. So what was the point? I now better understand how you mobilise your membership with them — and perhaps more importantly: how good it feels to write your frustration away.
So this one's for you, Dad.
Three ministers for asylum.
One Eppo for education, culture and science.
What on earth are we doing?
