Boris Johnson has outlined a “cautious” roadmap to ending lockdown, which involves sending 10 million children back to school at the same time. 

Getting our nation’s children into classrooms has been a keystone priority of the government throughout this pandemic, so the decision - though controversial - comes as little surprise to most.

Putting aside whether people think a decision made at a virtual Cabinet meeting to allow children and teachers to meet face-to-face is wise or not, it cannot be denied that lockdown fatigue has rendered any change at all a refreshing prospect for many. The vast majority of us are keen to get back to the lives we lived before.

I’ve been speaking to a number of schoolchildren during the course of the recent lockdown - the ones still on site, who are deemed vulnerable or whose parents are key workers - and opinion is very much split on the subject of full school reopenings on 8 March. 

Schools reopening: the worst decision of all time?

As is so often the case with children’s outlooks, the news is either a brilliant and timely announcement or it’s the worst decision of all time. 

“I don’t want the others to come back,” one Year 7 boy tells me. “This is so much better than actual school.” For him, the return of the raucous scrum of secondary life represents the return of an educational fiefdom. 

“I like knowing what I have to do during the day, and seeing what I’ve already done on ClassCharts.” He indicates the computer in front of him: the control he has over his own work and school day. Understandably, he’s nervous about the change. Then again, many of our most vulnerable children are predisposed to feel this way. 

It’s the opposite side of the coin to the Year 9 student who seems bored to death by the same room, the same seat, the same daily working methods. Her teaching assistant tells me, “It’s like Groundhog Day for her. She hasn’t been coping.”

The ennui of this new routine has been hard for many. Back in January, there was such calm in the ICT suite where this small group of site-taught children are educated. Behaviour was impeccable, and work was completed with minimal fuss. Fast-forward to the end of February, and many children are understandably restless.

If battle lines were to be drawn, it’s clear that the more outspoken children, who miss their friends and the camaraderie of the old days, are in favour of a full school reopening, whereas the more introverted are happy to be in an environment with a smaller headcount, with the near-total attention of their TAs. 

“When school goes back to normal, will you still be helping me as much?” the Year 7 boy asks his support worker, suddenly worried about what change may bring now a return date is set in stone.

Coronavirus: ‘It’s almost back to normal, anyway’

For every student who says they prefer to be at school without 90 per cent of their schoolmates because “it’s quieter”, there’s another who complains it’s “too quiet”. 

Many children in the computer suite who don’t want the others back are worried, frankly, that they won’t rule the roost any longer. And several have got so used to these new systems of lesson delivery that the idea of a traditional classroom now terrifies them. 

“It won’t bother me,” a Year 11 girl announces. “I was coming back, anyway.” She refers to the predicted phased or staggered return, now no longer on the cards. Her GCSE year group would have been one of the first years back in any case. 

“Ideally, everyone will be at school,” she says. “I get that. But I’m not sure we can talk about what’s ideal in this world right now. Like, it would be ideal if there was no virus, wouldn’t it? But there still is. Last month there were, like, 10 of us in this room. Now there’s 23. It’s almost back to normal, anyway.”

She’s right that numbers have been rising. Two groups of 15 at this small, rural school jumped to three groups of 25 within weeks, despite a laptop rollout. A friend of mine told me last week that he was sending his children back to school after half term because he and his wife simply couldn’t cope with the burden of homeschooling any longer - the tears and tantrums on top of trying to get their own work filed on time. 

Everyone’s fatigued by these changing working methods: teachers, parents and children. Both cynics and scientists alike argue that we could be in this situation again soon if we don’t show genuine caution, with unions and teaching professionals calling for stricter measures before a full reopening. But the thought that the end is in sight is one we’re all desperately holding on to. 

The government frequently tells us that the best thing for our children - for their mental health, for their futures - is to get them all back into educational buildings.

However, this stop-start schooling of our most vulnerable is anything but reassuring to them. They want, quite reasonably, to know that this is the very last U-turn. In rushing, it may not be.

The final words of reason fall to a Year 10 girl, previously silent on the matter. “I’m looking forward to this place reopening,” she says. “I can’t wait to see what everyone’s lockdown hair looks like.”

Paul Read is a teacher and writer