The Minister for Education, Mary Hanafin, spends every Friday visiting schools across the State. So how is she received? And what does it all achieve? Last Friday, Education Editor Seán Flynnjoined her.
Friday, October 19th
The clock has just nudged past 8.30am and we are sitting in the Ministerial Merc outside a Maxol filling station in Abbeylara, Co Longford. There are four of us in the car; Mary Hanafin, the Minister for Education and Science, her press officer, the Garda driver and this reporter.
The Minister was picked up from her home in Dublin just after 6am so she could she could get across the toll bridge and make it to Abbeylara by 9am. By now, the morning fog has rolled away and we are averting our gazes from the piercing October sun. Tiredness, from the early morning start, is already beginning to kick in.
The Minister is seated in the front seat of the Merc eating take-away sausage rolls and coffee from the deli at the local filling station. It is not exactly haute cuisine, but at this hour, and with few other options, it will do grand.
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Since she became Minister for Education, Mary Hanafin has spent every Friday visiting schools. In the past 37 months, she has visited 400 schools or 10 per cent of all the schools in the State. As the school-building programme rolls out, it seems every school wants - or even expects - her to open their new school, their new extension, their new sports hall.
It is good for her profile to be so active and so visible on the ground, but you also sense that she does it out of an old-fashioned sense of public service. The people have paid for the school and the least she can do as Minister is to head off and officiate.
That said, the story of how she comes to be in Abbeylara on this Friday morning can be traced back to a commitment made when canvassing Senate votes for her brother John in the summer. A local councillor said he would be happy to vote for John - "Now, would there be any chance at all you would do the honours at St Bernard's in Abbeylara?"
8.40 am
The Ministerial Merc is creeping slowly around the backroads of Abbeylara. We are due at St Bernard's National School at 9am but, while you might be excused for being a tad late, you can never, ever arrive early for a school opening. So, we wait and wait until 8.58am when the Garda driver turns back towards the town and drives down the main street to St Bernard's.
This morning, Mary Hanafin is opening a new €500,000 extension to the school and the whole town has come out to greet her. There is bunting on the lampposts and flowers in the windows. The kids have formed a guard of honour for the VIP from Dublin.
The welcome party includes the usual suspects - the Garda super, the local deputies and the local county councillors. But it is the figure of Fr Michael Campbell, the local parish priest and chairman of the school board of management, who dominates the landscape.
Every parent and every teacher we meet tells us the spanking new extension would never have been built without the extraordinary commitment and dedication of Fr Michael. It was the local PP who cajoled and harassed the local politicians until the Department came up with the cash. Now, the redoubtable Fr Michael has set his sights on a new sports hall for the parish. And you wouldn't bet against him.
For Mary Hanafin it is all a reminder of how the Catholic Church remains at the very centre of life in rural Ireland. You would think listening to some people in Dublin that the Church is dead, but that is certainly not the case in rural Ireland, she says.
This will be a running theme throughout the day, the sense that these school visits reconnect the Minister with the "real world" outside the Dublin 4 goldfish bowl.
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10am
Mary Hanafin is on her feet, delivering the first of five speeches she will give today.
Invariably, there is a certain formula to all of these speeches; a cúlpa focal about the school's particular achievements in sport, drama, Irish dancing and some gentle ribbing about sporting or other rivalries with the nearest school. If you are in Kilkenny you might say a few words about the hurling; in Kerry you mention the footballers - and so on.
The Minister cuts and pastes each speech to meet the needs of her audience. Today, there is a special mention for young Elizabeth who won a national handwriting competition and, of course, a few words about Fr Michael and all his hard work.
It is not a very political speech but one which focuses on the partnership between the board, the teachers and the parents working together.
There is a real sense of the community coming together here in the interests of the children, the Minister says.
10.45am
Officially opening a refurbished Aughnagarron NS, Granard
A Garda car escorts us through the village and along a narrow road to Aughnagarron, a stone's throw away. There are 75 pupils in this school, compared to just 56 in St Bernard's.
If you were an economist you would merge these schools and enjoy those economies of scale. But that would be to reckon without the umbilical cord which links each rural community to its own - its very own - national school. In villages such as Aughnagarron, there are only two public buildings - the church and the school. And these form the bedrock of the community.
Outside the school the kids sing and the band plays The Dawning of the Day. Benny Ledwith, the builder, tells us that it was his uncle who built the first school here in 1949.
By now Mary Hanafin is chatting to the kids in senior infants and first class. A former teacher at Sion Hill, Blackrock, Co Dublin she is very comfortable in this space.
The questions from the kids are great.
- Do you have any friends?
- What do you do?
- Why were you on the telly?
Hanafin bats each questions away with ease.
En route to the official ceremony, there are tougher questions from a local reporter from Shannonside Radio. She asks about the prefabs and the overcrowded classrooms in St Mary's, Edgeworthtown. But the reporter's probing questions are interrupted by someone testing the PA system in the hall.
Testing 123 . . . Testing 123 . . .
A local reporter tells me that, Edgeworthtown aside, there is little raging education controversy in the area as the new schools are built and the renovations completed. We both agree that good news is the biggest danger to journalism.
During the official ceremonies one of the parents tells how the school was lit up like a Christmas tree at midnight last night as everyone prepared for the Ministerial visit. There are butterfly cakes and scones with cream and jam waiting for the Minister in the staffroom
But first there is a speech to be given. This time the Minister recalls her own links with the county (two of her grandparents hail from co Longford). And there is the usual stuff about how education is the key to our golden future. As the clock is ticking there is a rushed cupan before she hurtles out the door to the next engagement.
12.45pm
Visiting Scoil Colmcille NS, Aughnacliffe
The Minister may see this as a quick courtesy call to a local school but the school takes a different view.
It is not everyday that the Minister comes to town so there are more speeches and a very impressive polygram of ceoil agus rince.
In her third speech of the day, Mary Hanafin says the programme of music is one of the best she has seen anywhere. And everyone beams with pride.
The school has prepared a full sit-down meal for the Minister and the various dignitaries. But the Minister makes her excuses and leaves. I am sorry to be rushing but the next school awaits, she says.
2.45pm
The Minister opens newly refurbished Lanesboro Community College
Before stepping out of the Merc, the Minister checks the name of the principal - just be be sure. This is school number four and principal number four, but there can be no slacking off.
The proud principal shows off the new science and technology room and the state-of-the art whiteboard technology. A huge guard of honour snakes its way across the school grounds. And then the speeches begin - seven in all.
It is 4pm by the time the Minister finally gets up to speak. Instead of addressing the other dignitaries, she speaks directly to the teenage students. She reflects their unease about standing around listening to this stuff for 50 minutes. She has had a quick glance at the school yearbook so she feeds in some good lines about the teachers in to her speech.
It is now approaching 4.30pm in a school hall in Longford on a Friday evening. Mary Hanafin is in full flow in a Clintonesque speech about challenge and opportunity. This, she says, is the Ireland of high aims and high ambitions. "You can be what you want to be. You can can what you want to do. Have the confidence in yourself to do it."
It is a speech full of broad brushstrokes about dreams and aspirations but the delivery is so strong that it is strangely moving. On the way out, the kids - far from being cynical and suspicious - are effusive in their praise.
When the speeches end, the kids race to catch their buses and the dignitaries and the invited guests settle down for chicken and beef.
After a brief word with the local bishop, the Minister heads back to the Merc. It is close to 5pm. She is due to deliver her fifth address of the day at an Irish-American economic dinner. It is a world away from Aughnagarron and Lanesboro at the the Four Seasons Hotel in Ballsbridge in Dublin 4.
Her driver tells us today, for a Friday, has not been so bad. Today there were only four schools and Longford is just a couple of hours away.
In the front seat, Mary Hanafin is chewing a packet of mints and reading the briefing notes for the Four Seasons.
