Gruffalo Gil gets more than he bargained for
Micheál Martin may have been swinging verbal punches in all directions like an angry octopus in the TV debate, but primary school children in the commuter town 30km west of Dublin were much more linear — and lethal — in their questioning.
The Labour leader was taken aback by the directness of Timmy’s inquiry, but clearly pleased it was Fianna Fáil that sets the benchmark for political betrayal in such young minds.
Precious, also aged nine, was playing a more wily game, when she announced: “We will vote for you if you can give us a new school.”
Her classmates from Navan Educate Together nodded wildly and cheered in agreement.
Conor, aged 11, who had earlier asked about Labour’s jobs plan because “my Dad was fired from a window frames manufacturer two years ago”, painted a lurid picture of their present school surroundings involving “crossing a dangerous road and risking going to hospital” just so they could play football on “slippery concrete”.
“Why do other schools have grass and not us?” demanded an agitated eight-year-old.
Mr Gilmore moved to calm the uproar by pleading that while he couldn’t promise to build everyone a new school, Labour would be making education a key priority — Timmy didn’t look too convinced.
But Michael, aged nine, saw his chance and went in for the kill, asking that if they did get a new school could Mr Gilmore make sure it had a “disco room and a jungle gym.”
The cuteness of the scene was soured by the knowledge that a recessionary, run down reality is the only one these children have known.
Born in the boom, now growing in a country struggling in the slump — their young heads are already filled with worries for their unemployed parents and the knowledge they themselves are being educated in inadequate conditions — welcome to welfare line Ireland 2011.
Mr Gilmore had only popped into the children’s corner of the bookstore to read to the dozen or so kids from The Gruffalo and get a nice little photo-op — instead he got a lesson in what life looks like through the young eyes of the children of the bail-out generation.
With Anglo — the bank that ate Ireland — looking to devour another €15bn as it tries to again fed-off what’s left of the carcass of the nation’s economy, leaky pre-fab classrooms and children’s road safety will be pushed even further to the back of the list of priorities. The bitter truth is Precious, Conor and their wide-eyed pals will still be paying off the banking bills when they have children of their own.
Though, it must be said, the Labour leader was not above a little bit of pre-teen attempted political indoctrination as he announced at the end of The Gruffalo reading that the gruesome lead character in the story: “must be a member of Fianna Fáil”.
However, these kids — or rather their parents whose views they were repeating — had already fingered FF as the bogeymen of modern Ireland.
At one point, Mr Gilmore tried to explain why the country had run out of money for things like new schools and started to blame the banks before Conor cut in with: “And Fianna Fáil...”
Mr Gilmore couldn’t agree more, but Precious had by now lost interest in macro economic policy and announced that the Labour leader would be “a good poem maker”.
Mr Gilmore took the compliment as it was intended and remarked that, in turn, Conor would be a good election candidate — clearly already scouting for talent for that fabled Labour-led government that has now slipped away this time around, but may finally be in the offing in 2018 when some of these youngsters would be old enough to vote.
And the idea certainly seemed to switch on a light bulb in Conor’s head as the little lad then graciously thanked the media for coming along to the Gruffalo reading and paying attention to their concerns, while Mr Gilmore put the book down and listened patiently to another plea about the need for a jungle gym and disco room from Michael.
Precious was already giving her own TV interview by this point, and Mr Gilmore then tried to ease Conor’s concerns about his dad being fired by telling him: “There is a future in windows” with Labour’s new green jobs retrofitting initiative.
Again, Timmy looked sceptical — the IMF generation has clearly seen too much, too young, for its own good.
