Ping. Ping. PIIIIINGGGGG! Nothing heralds the start of a new school year quite like my chirruping phone. I don’t need to check it to know who the many messages are from: the various school mum WhatsApp groups I’m a part of.
‘Is it OK for my child to have a patterned rucksack? Anyone know of any childcare options for after-school hours? What day does school start again?’ The messages keep popping up, one after the next.
With my eldest going into year 8, and with one child in Year 5 and another in Year 3, you could call me a seasoned veteran of the school mum WhatsApp groups. Even though I spend a significant part of my day complaining about the daily barrage of reminders, queries, complaints - and the occasional personal plug for a new business venture - I’m totally addicted to these chats.
They’ve been indispensable to my life as a parent. While I wouldn’t call the texts flashing up on my phone soothing exactly – especially if someone is ranting - there is some comfort knowing there is a community of parents (who happen to be all sorts of other things, too) accessible at a moment’s notice at my fingertips.
Everyone’s heard a horror story about one of these groups: they can be tedious, combative and the messages never, ever, stop coming.
Here’s the thing about the school years, though: they bring with them a whole new set of questions, worries, challenges and unknowns. And the school WhatsApp thread can offer help, both the practical and emotional sort, in these confusing times.
At the most basic level, the school WhatsApps are my personal PA of sorts – essential for someone terribly organised like me. While there are loads of emails and school-specific apps to log onto for homework and newsletter updates, the WhatsApps have the answers to what your child needs to bring, wear and accomplish on any given day.
Where else can I turn for advice, ask another parent to pick up my child and borrow a metallic silver star costume for my child’s Nativity production at the tap of a button?
Peppered between the many school admin messages and recommendations for cleaners and babysitters, you’ll also find something unexpected in these chats: a glimpse into the beauty and kindness of the human spirit.
Yes, really.
I’ve seen people come together in extraordinary ways through these groups, as parents coordinate schedules to help the family of a mum who’s seriously unwell in hospital, organising a rota of food, playdates and sleepovers for her kids, for days or weeks at a time, so her family wants for nothing while she recovers.
There is a thoughtfulness on display too: these mums don’t just sort the Christmas and end-of-year gifts for teachers, they’ll spontaneously organise a special something when they learn it’s a teaching assistant’s birthday, or give a gift to a teacher who’s taken a tumble off a bike earlier that week.
I’ve not only seen parents rallying together for the school and local community, but beyond, too: I once received a message on one of my groups - from a parent I’ve yet to meet - asking for clothing donations for Afghan refugees arriving in England.
As someone who struggles with social anxiety and isn’t great at in-person conversations with strangers, the school mum WhatsApp groups have also been a lifeline for me socially.
I first got to know many of my ‘mum friends’ - now some of my best friends - through messages trickling through on these very WhatsApp chats. I find in-person conversations with strangers intimidating, so it’s easier for me to get to know people when I can write my thoughts down.
My kids have benefitted, too: these chats have opened up all sorts of social possibilities for them, like whole-class parties, Trick-or-Treating expeditions, after-school sports clubs, summer camps with classmates and more.
I won’t pretend these groups are all flowers, butterflies and chats about world peace – they can be vipers’ nests. Throwing 30+ strangers with strong opinions and unlimited phone access together has its downsides. Personalities clash. People unload things that are inappropriate on the forum. Some parents complain excessively… it can all get extremely tense. If you’re looking for drama, you’ll find more on these chats than across an entire series of the Real Housewives franchise.
These issues were exacerbated during the pandemic, when the WhatsApps stopped offering comfort and support, instead stoking anger and pitting parents against one another (frustrations at the government’s classification of ‘essential workers’ was one major source of stress). I had to completely switch off for the sake of my mental health. I muted the chats, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to leave them altogether.
I’m glad I stayed: when school started up again, these groups were back to their usual helpful pings and offers of toys and books looking for a new home, as if nothing had changed, even though so many previously unimaginable things had come to pass. The chats did evolve, however – and for the better. I’m noticing lots more dads popping up and sending messages on them.
They say parenthood is full of fleeting moments – blink and your child can do something they couldn’t the day before - but weirdly, the WhatsApps feel like a permanent fixture, at least during the school years. It’s just the cast of characters that changes.
The school mum WhatsApp group is a universally recognisable experience, a rite of passage for parents that opens us to a plurality of voices and perspectives, some positive, others less so.
Part of the beauty of WhatsApp is that you can always swiftly exit the group before you get sucked in. Always an option... but where’s the fun in that?