Emer McLysaght: Nothing about parenting horrifies me more than the school WhatsApp group

Being a parent in 2022 seems like a minefield. Between worrying about screentime, trying to achieve feeding/weaning/sleeping perfection, paying for childcare, cutting grapes up the right way, fretting about setting them up for life, panicking about messing them up for life, and attacking them with Factor 50 every 15 minutes, it’s a big job.

At the risk of sounding very “I remember when all this was fields” it’s a far cry from my 80s and 90s childhood. Everything is so involved. You’re expected to work and succeed and have it all, while also attending every single milestone event, recording every experience, and keeping tabs on every second of your child’s day.

Take school for example. In my day there was a parent-teacher meeting twice a year, a bit of homework checking and a note in the bag if you were in trouble. Otherwise, there was a blissful gulf of ignorance between school and home.

While the group might be handy to remind you when World Book Day or Annual Pyjama Day or Pointless Wear Yellow Day is, it’s not actually necessary to be a member

Fast forward to present day and there’s a 24/7 information superhighway pinging between schools, teachers, and parents. Apps, emails, constant updates and of course the one thing that sends a chill down my spine more than any other: the class WhatsApp group. A place where up to 60 parents — largely relative strangers — gather to share and discuss the educational needs of their children, on a platform where nuance and tone are but whisps on the wind. What could go wrong?

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As a childfree ignoramus I am only privy to what happens in the class WhatsApp groups via anecdotes. Some find the groups a lifesaver in terms of managing what the children need to bring in or get done. PE gear, birthday party invites, homework updates — these are all very much at home in the WhatsApp group. Some parents have made friends in the group, had nights out, organised trips away.

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But then there are the groups that have gone to the dark side, turned political or turned on each other. I’ve heard stories of teacher bashing, principal bashing, other parent bashing.

I’ve heard about recriminations after unsavoury jokes. I’ve heard about flirting. Flirting! In your child’s class WhatsApp group! Keep it in your chinos, Dermot!

With the groups right this moment probably reanimating like ravenous, nosy zombies, WhatsApp has at least handed a lifeline to people facing into another school year. A new update will allow you to leave a group chat without alerting all the members, meaning that if the 37th update about Saoirse’s lost school jumper is the one to tip you over the edge, you’ll be able to exit gracefully and silently.

I was in a group once where a ‘suspicious vehicle’ was on the verge of being reported to gardaí but was identified as a new work van belonging to a neighbour in the nick of time

While the group might be handy to remind you when World Book Day or Annual Pyjama Day or Pointless Wear Yellow Day is, it’s not actually necessary to be a member. Last year a headteacher in the UK suggested parents should avoid class WhatsApp groups altogether as they were taking responsibility away from children and encouraging parents to micromanage their lives.

Jane Lunnon, a principal in southwest London said remembering PE kits and activity money should be up to the child and teach them to manage their own lives and learning the consequences of being forgetful or disorganised. It’s an interesting point, especially when remembering that these WhatsApp groups are usually not endorsed by the school in any way and the information contained in them is most likely communicated directly by the school or teacher anyway.

Some schools even publish advice on their website about these groups, advising that they’re not places to air grievances, political opinions or host private conversations. No educator put Teaching down on their CAO form imagining they’d one day be fielding emails from parents complaining they’ve been defamed in the third class chat.

The new WhatsApp update will be handy too for any other groups you’re eager to jump ship on. The neighbourhood/street chats can be a hotbed of sniping, fighting and drama. Somebody is feeding foxes on the lane? There’s going to be outrage. Someone’s sloppy parking is encroaching on a neighbour’s spot? You bet they’re getting a passive aggressive text.

Out for a late-night stroll? You’re about to be outed as a peeping tom. A friend was forced to leave her estate’s WhatsApp group when a rodent issue led to enthusiastic posting of pictures of the rats in question. It was a case of “I’m out” rather than “rats out”.

I was in a group once where a “suspicious vehicle” was on the verge of being reported to gardaí but was identified as a new work van belonging to a neighbour in the nick of time. As it says in the Bible: Yea, though I walk through the valley of the peeping curtains, I will fear nosy neighbours who just love the drama.

Look, your school WhatsApp group might be a utopian delight but if, by the third week in September you cannot take one more second of breakfast bar recipes or Netflix recommendations in the second class group, maybe just do an Irish goodbye on it? At the very least mute and archive the chat. Dylan’s terrifying mam will never know.