Jayne Dowle: A new life at school for daughter and mother

We've got the shiny new shoes – her own personal priority – and we've got the uniform. But what are my priorities as a parent? Well, contrary to what the Education Secretary might think, I'm not going to get worked up about who runs her school, as long as it is run effectively, and with the interests of Lizzie and her classmates at its heart.

For all the political hullabaloo over controversial "free" schools and academies, only about 30 schools so far have confirmed to opt out of local authority control.

I like the idea that her school is accountable not only to parents, but to a wider education authority. Over the past few years, the foundation stage has teetered on the edge of special measures, a serious sanction applied to schools not operating as efficiently as they should.

I want Lizzie's year group to come up to the mark, indeed to surpass the average, and I like the comfort of knowing that Ofsted and the local authority is on its case. I am as concerned as any parent to ensure that the school is doing its best, but I don't think I am qualified to police it alone.

So, I am putting my confidence in a new set-up of staff, with a new headteacher at the helm. It is early days, but I'm excited to see what she will do. We also have (almost) a new school building. The school, built almost 70 years ago, is being renovated under the Building Schools for the Future programme.

If anyone needs convincing of the impact that brand-new classrooms can make, then they should pop round to Lizzie's school and take a look. When we went for the new starters' visit last term, the difference between the old building, with its crumbling walls and peeling paint, and the new classrooms, with their huge windows and gleaming work-spaces, was startling. You could see the children's eyes light up; these new classrooms somehow give them confidence and inspiration. So I am hoping that by the time Lizzie gets there next week, the original building, which houses her classroom, will have been brought up to spec.

There are also several new teachers. I want them to treat Lizzie as an individual, and to recognise her own special talents, whatever these may be.

The same goes for all the other children. Lizzie has been to nursery already, so we have a good idea of the kind of subjects and activities she enjoys. But for several of her friends, this will be their first time in any kind of formal educational setting.

How daunting must that be, leaving your child at the door, not knowing how they are going to react to what the teacher has in store for them? And it must be one of the trickiest jobs in education, tailoring a curriculum which is inclusive enough for all the children in those very first years at school.

I realise, in hindsight, that my son, a notorious "August boy", one of the youngest children in his year, got left behind almost from the off. It is only now, at the age of eight, that he is beginning to feel settled enough in a classroom to actually approach the business of learning.

I want Lizzie's foundation years to be exactly that; a foundation for her school career, not a confused hurtle through the basics. At the same time, I would like her to be stretched and challenged. At the new starters' meeting, her teacher gave the parents some simple tasks to

complete with their children over the summer. These didn't include finding and saving "favourites" on the computer, Lizzie's current obsession. I only hope that the IT facilities are going to be up to her exacting demands.

I also hope that there will be plenty to stimulate her interest outside the classroom. Two-thirds of children are denied access to after-school activities because they are too expensive, according to new research by Save the Children. Sport, drama, learning a musical instrument, all cost money, and many families simply cannot afford it. In the new age of austerity, cuts to any free or discounted provision are only going to get deeper. Yet taking part in an after-school activity develops a child's social skills and confidence, as well as nurturing any latent talent.

It is the social aspects that I really worry about. Will she be able to handle the cafeteria-style dining room? Will the bigger children scare her?

Will she dare to ask where the toilets are? Even the most caring

teacher can't be responsible for all of this. This is where parents have to do their job properly too, by preparing their children to go

out into the world, and teaching them how to deal with unfamiliar situations without fear.

It is easy to write these words, but not as easy to put them into practice. As she marches up the path in those shiny new shoes next

week, I reckon I'll be the one in need of reassurance, not her.