Kevin likes strawberries
Kevin Rudd visited yet another school today. Nick Parkin reports on what could have been a media disaster.
Another day, another school, another plea for an “education revolution”.
If you thought you were getting deja vu watching Rudd’s election campaign on television, think about how the press bus is feeling.
There are 10,000 schools across Australia, and many in the bus are scared Rudd might actually be planning to visit every single one of them before election day.
Today’s school visit was an opportunity for Rudd to unveil yet another “chapter” in his book of non-violent, learning-based revolutionary practice – this time focusing on pre-school education.
Labor’s commitment to a universal year of pre-school for all Australian four-year-olds is well known – it was the first ALP policy released under Rudd at the start of the year.
But today Rudd added more to the pledge. He promised that all four-year-olds would also receive a basic health check at the start of their pre-school year.
This would be a way of tackling hearing and speech problems before they impact on education performance, he said. It will affect about 250,000 four-year-olds across the country.
The announcement represents about the tenth or eleventh “chapter” of the Rudd revolution thus far. There are eight more days of the campaign to go. Soon it will be a manifesto.
As expected, however Rudd not only used the schoolyard opportunity to announce policy. He also used it to do what politicians do best: a media stunt.
This time Rudd followed in the footsteps of his predecessor, Mark Latham. He sat down in front of a class of children and read a book about eating fruit.
“I like apples more than blackcurrants,” Rudd revealed to the class.
“Who likes strawberries? I think they’re terrific,” he said.
It was riveting to watch, that’s for sure.
Most of the kids, however, seemed far more interested in the forty or so noisy journalists and TV crew members that had bounded into room rather than Rudd’s personal likes and dislikes of fruit varieties.
Still, they were well behaved. They sat still, they didn’t talk, and when it was all over, they thanked “Mr Wudd” for coming.
But there’s always a certain element of unpredictability in these classroom media stunts. Kids can do bizarre things in front of politicians – things that not even the best press secretary can plan for.
It’s the eternal fear of politicians that one four-year-old’s actions could just about ruin a campaign.
And it looked like one particular four-year-old in this latest school’s audience planned exactly that. Disregarding his teacher’s request for no questions to be asked, the young boy held up his hand confidently and with purpose once Rudd finished reading his fruit book.
Rudd closed the book and gazed almost fearfully down at the child.
“Have you got a question for me?” Rudd asked the boy. “Because I’m worried about that,” he said, forcing an uncomfortable smile.
Before things could get out of hand, however, the teacher of the class stepped in.
“No questions,” she told the young boy, who dutifully put his hand down.
It certainly could have been a disastrous moment for the “education revolution” if this boy had been allowed to speak. Who knows what kind of warped, insidious thoughts were churning around in his pre-school mind.
He could very well have fired a verbal bullet that would have ended the campaign. Who knows, maybe the Liberals even planted him there.
Or, more likely, he probably just had a question about apples. Either way he didn’t get to ask.
A journalist from The Australian who watched the proceedings, however, did manage to sneak in a tricky question.
Rudd was explaining to another class about democracy and the privilege Australians have in being able to vote for their representatives.
The journalist in question interrupted this Rudd legal studies lesson to ask: “Who are you going to vote for Mr Rudd?”
Rudd appeared momentarily startled, before saying: “Well, I imagine I’ll be voting for me”.
He then turned to look at the journalist in question with the broadest smile he has ever produced.
“Kids, these guys are journalists,” he said. “They’re job is to wait around me all the time for me to make mistakes”.
He was smiling the whole time, but you could see the cold, deep anger in his eyes. He wasn’t happy with the question. Journalists are only supposed to ask questions at pre-arranged press conferences. This was going against the script.
The whole event says a lot about the “education revolution” and Rudd himself.
There is no doubt that Rudd has a vision for Australia. He wants Australia to be the most educated society in the world. He wants to increase education spending across the board: from four-year-olds to primary schools to high schools to TAFE to universities.
But to achieve this he will be ruthless. An educated Australia requires Rudd to be elected. If that means silencing four-year-olds, if that means chastising troublesome journalists, if that means refusing to answer questions, then that is the price that will be paid.
Rudd may believe in an education revolution, but he’s also a politician. The revolution will be conducted on his own terms.
Bravo
In seriousness, however, this is fantastic stuff. Congratulations on some excellent journalism and good luck recovering your health!