It’s School Today

Dry your eyes, be brave, I say.
You’ve just turned 4 but it’s school today.
Let’s roll up your trousers, they’ll fit one day.
Now dry your eyes, be brave, I pray.

I know you’ll miss me, I know you’re tired, but let go now, I know it’s hard.
You look so small in the lunchtime hall, surrounded by numbers, you try to stand tall.
Sat at the back, your head hangs low; don’t ask me a question, I just don’t know.
You want to learn but not this way; there are more exciting ways to play.
Let me lead the way, you say.

But this is the way, the only way, that children learn to read, they say.
STOP, it doesn’t have to be this way!

Dry your eyes, be brave, YOU say, I’m ready now, its school today.
All dressed up and raring to go, you say goodbye and I let go.

The ‘extra year’ has served us well; we’ve stood and watched your confidence swell.
You ask more questions, you want to see, the way things work and what we mean.
Why do leopards climb up trees, can I jump and flip with ease?
You run, you flip, you draw, you hide. You count, you jump, you sing, you find.
Without the pressure, you’ve grown so strong and learnt that trying isn’t wrong.
You sit and listen, you want to learn, you want to play and will take turns.

We breathe a sigh and stand up tall, remembering how you were so small.
A summer born who’d just turned 4, the fight is done; we’ve won the war.

So dry your eyes be brave, YOU say. I’m ready now, it’s school today.

• A special thank you to mum Jasmine Lomanto, one of the members of our Summer Born Campaign group, for giving me permission to share her insightful poem here.