Ascot didn’t invent educational segregation; it exposed it
Let’s not pretend that what happened at Ascot Primary School’s graduation ceremony last week was unique to Ascot. If anything, Ascot is merely the latest symptom of an education system that has long normalised exclusion in the name of excellence.
Exclusionary practices are alive in many institutions, as people have been exposing online. Ascot is simply the school that got caught. Many others have escaped similar scrutiny because parents remain silent — too fearful of retaliation against their children, too embarrassed to complain, or too resigned to believe anything would change.
Just think about the revelation, that parents knew of, and sanctioned Ascot’s plan beforehand.
“The exclusion… was an agreed position following a meeting with the parents, especially for those who did not meet the criteria to participate in the graduation exercise,” read the official report from the education ministry.
Think about that. Adults sat in a room and collectively agreed that some children deserved to celebrate while others deserved to stand apart.
Once the think pieces stop and the outrage subsides, we must face the truth that Ascot did not invent this warped philosophy. Our education system has been practising it for decades.
For years we accepted the high-stakes Grade Six Achievement Test that sorted children into educational classes. Those with access to extra lessons, well-resourced schools, and strong support systems overwhelmingly secured places in traditional high schools, while those not so lucky were disproportionately funnelled elsewhere. The Primary Exit Profile promised a change, with continuous assessment meant to provide a more holistic picture of a child’s abilities and create fairer placements. Yet nothing has fundamentally changed. The race simply begins earlier, at grade four, where nine-year-olds start competing for a limited number of coveted spaces in traditional schools. Long before adolescence, their socio-economic status, family support, and access to tutoring will shape the opportunities that will determine the rest of their lives.
And, let us not be fools, comforting ourselves with the tired “grow where you’re planted” refrain. We all know the truth. Some schools simply do not provide the same soil. Some children are expected to flourish in environments systemically deprived of the resources needed for success.
Ascot’s misstep was not an isolated lapse in judgement; it was just a painfully public reflection of the education system.
Yes, Principal Mark Jackson should reflect deeply on what happened under his leadership. He should have known that celebrations should be inclusive. But we adults have an extraordinary ability to convince ourselves that we are teaching resilience, motivation, and discipline, when in reality, we are just shaming. And shaming simply leaves scars that no apology can erase.
It’s time for all of us to look in the mirror, just like Principal Jackson was shamed into doing. Having normalised educational segregation, having accepted the hierarchy of traditional versus non-traditional schools as though it were natural, we cannot then, with a clear conscience, condemn Ascot for acting out the very values our education system has quietly rewarded for decades.
None of us is morally superior to Ascot Primary’s leadership. The school didn’t invent exclusion. Their only mistake was making visible what the rest of the system has become very good at disguising. And until we confront educational stratification, Ascot will not remain the exception.