Think politics is full of power plays? You should see the school gates

Two mighty presidents have both had their status undermined this week in humiliating ways – but the politics are just as fierce when you’re a mother standing outside the playground, says Charlotte Cripps

The French president Emmanuel Macron was left to fend for himself on the streets of New York City this week, after his car was stopped so that Donald Trump’s motorcade could pass.

In embarrassing video footage which has since gone viral, a bemused-looking Macron stands on the pavement, having earlier given his speech to the United Nations on recognising Palestine as a state, explaining to police officers: “There are 10 of us. I go to the French embassy.”

Realising the police won’t help him, Macron then makes an SOS call to Trump from his mobile phone. Say what you like about the man, but he is always ready to pick up the phone.

“How are you? Guess what? I’m waiting in the street because everything is frozen for you,” Macron says, trying to laugh it off, but the humiliation is palpable.

Macron, still on his phone, then ends up walking through the Big Apple for about 30 minutes with his bodyguards, even stopping for a selfie with a passerby.

Some on social media have accused the US president of practising a good old political power play. “That’s not just a mix-up – that’s a power signal. When world leaders get parked so Trump can pass, it tells you everything about who commands respect in the room,” one X (Twitter) user wrote. The same goes for the escalator that stopped as Trump climbed it at the UN – Trump claimed it was “sabotage”, although some say it was an accident committed by one of his own staff, forcing him into a humiliatingly ponderous ascent.

The president and First Lady walked up the steps of the escalator at the UN after it came to an abrupt halt (AP)

But if you think that’s bad, you should see what happens at the school gates.

Take the secret sleepovers, which some parents orchestrate like an undercover operation. On one occasion, I picked my daughter up at the prescribed time of 7pm, thinking the party was well and truly over.

“Thanks for having her,” I smiled warmly, relieved she’d been invited as the two girls seemed to have drifted apart, and I’d hoped this was a peace offering.

I didn’t see any other parents at the door, but I assumed they were late. The mum then sent us all a “thank you for coming” message and photos of the party on the group WhatsApp shortly after I left.

It was only later that another mum let slip that the majority of the girls, about nine of them, were spending the night there, and that there was a second sleepover WhatsApp group that I wasn’t included in. I stood motionless on the street with the phone to my ear.

“You mean to tell me the party is still in full swing?” I mumbled. “I just wish I’d known – and not been kept in the dark.”

For a minute, I felt diminished in the eyes of myself and everyone else. But really, it was a walloping power play. I’d not invited her daughter to a party the year before.

This sort of thing is rampant. At schools across the country, power-hungry parents hide behind niceness and smiles but are out to sabotage anybody who stands in their way at school fairs and PTA meetings, ruthlessly showing who is top dog, and desperate to get brownie points at any cost.

In this world, if you snooze, you lose. Competitive mums try to trip you up by pretending they don’t care about whether their daughter is the angel in the nativity play, but don't be fooled. Behind the scenes, it’s another story.

They secretly campaign for the plum roles by cosying up to the teacher, helping the school, and supposedly making large donations.

When I discovered my own poor daughter was merely the donkey, and saw the other mums swagger past like the cat that got the cream, I realised quite how hierarchical school is for the parents.

Of course, there are plenty of wonderful parents, too. This is only one side of it. But when someone wants status and power, whether for themselves or for their child, all you can do is hold your head high and get out of the mess.

The best thing to do is to watch out for the tiger mums and helicopter parents. You might think you have a handle on it, but then out of the blue, you get served a shocker – just like Macron and Trump.