At a P&C meeting at my kids’ school last year, it came up that our P&C was covering the cost of things that I would consider essential: literacy teaching resources.
A motion was made for the P&C to cover this substantial cost (close to $10,000), and of course every parent in the room agreed.
But I was appalled to learn that education funding could not cover essential resources – what happens at schools without an active P&C?
The thought came up again recently as I was undertaking a personal project: writing a 25,000+ word research essay on school funding in Australia. A friend pointed me to the P&C’s Queensland 2024 submission to the Better and Fairer Schools (Funding and Reform) Bill 2024.
There, I learnt that in 2024, P&Cs across Queensland contributed $75 million to the education system, with most of this funding used to cover systemic funding gaps in public schools.
The submission provided a list of what these Queensland P&Cs purchased or contributed to in 2023, with highlights including:
- 81% of P&Cs contributed to school infrastructure (playgrounds, tuckshop renovations, sheds, shade sails)
- 69% contributed to books and learning resources
- 51% contributed to furniture and fittings
- 36% of P&Cs provided a donation to the school budget.
When in this wealthy country did public schools stop being government-funded and start being propped up by community fundraising? Or has it always been so? And what happens in communities and schools without these means?
Recently, a local school launched a P&C fundraising campaign to raise money for clean, safe bathroom facilities. The campaign highlighted the impact that worn-out school infrastructure can have on students, with some children reportedly avoiding the bathrooms because of their disgusting condition. As a result, students experienced discomfort, difficulty concentrating in class, and, in some cases, health complications from delaying bathroom use. You can still donate if you’d like to ensure children can use sanitary toilets at school; in fact, I know of two other Brisbane schools with similar campaigns currently – so you’ve got your pick of options!
I heard from a P&C executive member at another Brisbane school that their P&C was funding basic school costs to the tune of $300,000 annually, contributing to cover resources, basic maintenance, and even staff.
Now this leads to the next question: just who is running most of the cake stalls, fetes, tuckshops, book drives, uniform shops, Father’s Day stalls, Trivia Nights, Scholastic book clubs and after school snack stalls to keep books in the library and toilets flushing?
Well, Mums of course!
Once again, it is women taking on most of this unpaid, essential labour because public schools are widely and systemically underfunded, won’t be properly funded until 2034 (unless there’s a government change of course; then it may never happen at all), and are trapped in a biased and broken school funding system.
Women dominate across volunteer P&C positions in Queensland
I couldn’t easily find information on who is doing the on-the-ground volunteering at P&C fundraising events, though if my kids’ school, and schools around me are anything to go by, it’s mainly mums, some lovely nannas and a few dads who pitch in.
Looking across the P&C websites for 50 schools across Queensland, I found that out of a possible 217 Executive P&C roles, all voluntary, 172 of these roles were filled by women, and 45 by men. Meaning 79.3 per cent of the P&C executive volunteers are women, and 20.7 per cent are men.
While I haven’t run the numbers, it’s a state that’s likely repeated across all states and territories in Australia.
This means that, yet again, women are holding the broken system together.
Women spend nights, weekends, and holidays trying to understand the school budget, what is needed, how we can get it, and making sure the children don’t miss out.
We already have language for the mental load inside a household, but we don’t yet have it for the mental load of a public institution, and P&Cs, run in vast majority by women, fitting this in around paid work and their own kids, are exactly that: an unpaid, unrecognised, largely female workforce that Australian governments have quietly come to depend on to keep public education running.
It is deeply unfair, and it is also completely unsustainable, with cost-of-living pressures and more families having both parents working full-time, meaning the capacity to volunteer is diminishing. When that runs out, who will fill the gap, or will we finally fund schools properly and stop relying on the goodwill and mum-guilt of thousands of women?
You can read Cate’s full comprehensive investigation on Australian school funding here.