Multiculture club

Tomorrow is multicultural day at my three-year-old's nursery. We have been asked to dress our little darlings in national costume. I am thinking of shaving his head and putting him in a football shirt. It's either that or a morris dancing get up, and I know which one is more likely to see him beaten up by his fellow preschoolers. 

But it got me to thinking about how times of changed. When I was growing up out in the sticks in the 70s our headmaster arranged a special assembly to greet the first black pupil to attend our school. Looking back that must have worked wonders to make her feel included and inconspicuous, poor girl. 

Now my sons attend London schools where English is just one of many languages spoken and skin colours range from milky white to inky black encompassing every shade in between, which begs the question why they need a special multicultural day, as surely every day in these schools is multicultural day? 

But I suspect that the real motivation behind this day is nothing as high falutin' as learning about other cultures, but more an excuse for a good nosh up. You see we have all been asked to bake a national dish and I fear my good old British Victoria sponge won't stand up to the culinary competition from around the world.  

If the food at my eldest's school fetes is anything to go by we are in for a global smorgasbord of treats of satay and spring rolls, Thai curry and Singapore noodles - a far cry from the weak tea and sunken fairy cakes that sustained the parents at my primary school. So whatever else we learn about multiculturalism tomorrow, one thing I already know is that when it comes to food it's a force for good.