So, Bridget Phillipson, the new Education Secretary, has popped up today with a speech that honestly made me want to throw something hard at the TV. According to her, the big issue in education right now is that kids aren’t ready to start school. They can’t sit still. They don’t listen. They don’t follow instructions. And I’m sitting here thinking ‘no shit, Sherlock‘.

These kids we’re talking about? They’re four. FOUR. Some of them are barely out of toddlerhood. Elizabeth was ten bloody days past her fourth birthday when she was expected to rock up to school, plonk herself at a desk, and behave like a model citizen-in-training. Ten days! Her bloody birthday balloons were still floating around and she was clutching new toys when the school gates swallowed her up.

And what do we expect from these tiny humans? To sit still for hours on end. To listen and follow multi-step instructions. To keep their hands to themselves, their bums on their chairs, their mouths shut unless spoken to. To stop daydreaming, stop fidgeting, stop challenging, stop exploring. To squash every natural instinct that makes them children.

And let’s not forget: the Foundation Stage, you know, that stage these little ones are in when they start school, is meant to be play-based. It’s designed that way for a bloody reason. Because children at that age learn best through play, through movement, through exploring and experimenting. And thankfully, Elizabeth’s school is brilliant at recognising that. They get it. They understand that these kids are still practically babies. They build the learning around that fact. They don’t expect tiny robots, they nurture curious little humans. But not every school has the resources, the support, or the flexibility to do that. And the government certainly isn’t making it any easier.

And let me tell you something, because apparently the Education Secretary needs to hear it: I used to be a teacher. Junior-aged kids. I’ve been there, in the classroom, trying to engage a room full of wriggly, curious, excitable little people. Even with all the lesson plans, targets, and Ofsted bollocks breathing down my neck, I knew that kids don’t have endless attention spans. That’s not a failing on their part; it’s normal! They’re not supposed to sit still like statues.

And let’s not pretend this is just about children. I’m nearly 40, and I can’t sit still for long periods of time without wanting to launch myself out the nearest window. I fidget. I get distracted. I start making planning my next tattoo. And yet we expect four-year-old- FOUR-YEAR-OLDS- to behave better than grown bloody adults?

And no, this isn’t a teacher-bashing post. Teachers are bloody heroes. They’re doing the best they can in a system that’s stacked against them. They’re working under ridiculous expectations set by people who clearly haven’t spent five minutes with an actual child in the last twenty years. Teachers see it every day. They see the kids who are tired, overwhelmed, not coping because the system is demanding things they simply can’t give. Teachers don’t set the rules. They’re stuck trying to make the best of them.

This isn’t about lazy parenting. It isn’t about bad teachers. It isn’t about kids being “naughty”. It’s about a system that’s not just unfit for purpose. It’s actively harming children.

Bridget fucking Phillipson says the kids aren’t ready. But the real question is: ready for what? Ready to be shoved onto the conveyor belt of formal schooling at an age when they should still be playing, exploring, imagining, and learning through doing? Ready to suppress their natural curiosity so they can tick the boxes in a curriculum that was designed to churn out compliant little workers?

Most other countries don’t start formal schooling at four. They wait until six or seven. Because they understand – because the science tells us – that kids learn best through play, movement, hands-on exploration. But here? We’re obsessed with squeezing kids into uniforms, gluing their bums to chairs, and filling their heads with phonics and number bonds before they’ve even figured out how to hold a pencil properly.

And spare me the line about how school isn’t compulsory until five. That’s a technicality and everyone bloody knows it. For most families, holding them back isn’t realistic. Childcare costs are through the roof. Nurseries can’t always provide what’s needed. The pressure to conform is massive. So, like so many parents, I sent my just-turned-four-year-old to school, because I didn’t have much bloody choice.

And here’s the kicker – when those kids don’t fit into the box, when they can’t sit still or focus or do exactly as they’re told for hours on end, we act like they’re the problem. We talk about school readiness like it’s a child issue when actually, it’s a system issue.

Bridget, if you don’t understand that, if you can stand up as Education Secretary and look at a room full of tiny kids and think, you lot need to do better, rather than, this system needs to change, then you , like most of your colleagues, are absolutely not fit for that job. Because here’s what leadership in education should be about: creating an environment that works for children. Building a system that supports their development, their wellbeing, their curiosity, their joy.

Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to stop forcing kids to fit into a system that doesn’t work for them and start building an education system that actually fits the kids. One that recognises that little ones learn through play. That fidgeting, questioning, and moving aren’t signs of failure – they’re signs of a healthy, curious mind.

Because I don’t know about you, but I am sick to death of watching brilliant, sparkly little kids crushed by a system that was never designed for them in the first place.