A Mirror columnist has brought the fight against Sulivan Primary School’s closure to the nation’s attention as she focuses on Labour’s attempt to save it.
Ros Wynne-Jones writes in her weekly Real Britain column today (June 25) about the blood, sweat and tears which the Fulham school’s teachers, parents and students have been through to save it after the former Conservative council said it had to close to reduce the number of surplus places at both Sulivan and New King’s School which Sulivan was going to have to merge with.
Her column comes after the new Labour administration in Hammersmith and Fulham made saving the oustanding-rated school from closure - and being replaced by a new free school called Fulham Boys School - its number one priority by putting the decision on hold to review it on June 2.
The Mirror columnist wrote how the day after the local elections, headteacher Wendy Aldridge was arranging job interviews for her staff who were to be made redundant because of the closure and despite the Conservatives losing control of the borough she still didn’t expect the telephone call from Stephen Cowan, the new Labour leader of the council.
She wrote how Mr Cowan phoned Ms Aldridge and said: “We’re taking a somewhat radical new approach to things. We’re planning to start building homes Londoners can actually afford.” He paused. “That means we’re going to need lots of community school places for children. So I think we’ll probably need to review the closure of your school.”
After a year’s epic battle to keep her school open, Aldridge, who has taught at Sulivan for 25 years, couldn’t even reply. “There was silence on the line,” she says. “It’s been a very emotional journey.”
The column goes on to highlight how the closure defies a London-wide trend of primary schools being asked to add bulge classes to cope with an ever-increasing population and how the decision to close the 1950s school with beautiful grounds next to the Hurlingham Club made no sense until the Conservative council announced its grounds might be used for a new Church of England free school, Fulham Boys.
“It was as if the Council had decided our kids didn’t deserve to have these grounds,” says Aisha Duman, 54, a parent-governor whose six children have all been to Sulivan over the past 27 years.
“We’re located right by the exclusive Hurlingham Club where people play polo, there’s a Waitrose, what right did we have to be here with all this lovely space?” Aisha says she was heartbroken. “This school is like a magic kingdom. All my kids have gone on to do well.”
A massive community campaign, including schoolchildren singing ‘Save Our Sulivan’ outside Downing Street , fell on deaf ears. Even winning a Boris Johnson Gold Award last Christmas for succeeding “against the odds in improving pupils’ aspirations and achievements” could not save it. David Cameron’s “favourite council” Hammersmith and Fulham – the Tory flagship borough – was not for turning.
Ms Wynne-Jones writes how walking into Sulivan it is immediately clear why the free school supporters – who were backed by Michael Gove, the Secretary of State for Education – wanted it. “It’s a beautiful urban oasis. Its 1950s buildings may be well-worn, but its grounds are astonishing for an inner-city primary school. There is a nature garden, a duckpond and allotments.
“The plans announced on Monday mean Sulivan can once more be a place for children to flourish as its founders intended.
The school has been granted a year’s grace because of the Labour review and the columnist writes how instead of finding new jobs for her staff, Aldridge is recruiting extra teachers. “The main thing all along has been ensuring that the children didn’t lose out,” she says. “I’ve just read their end of year reports. They have made so much progress and I’m so proud of them.”
Now the council is working to review other decisions made during the great Hammersmith and Fulham sell-off by the previous regime. The sale of Shepherd’s Bush market and half of Hammersmith Park is being reviewed, and there are plans to save Charing Cross Hospital.
