My daughter enrolled my granddaughter in a very expensive and prestigious school in our city. But after a week, my granddaughter told me that she’s afraid to go there, that it’s dangerous…

My daughter always wanted to provide her child with the best education. When my granddaughter turned seven, she started looking for a school. She spent a long time choosing, went on tours, and talked to principals.

Eventually, she chose the most prestigious private school in the city. Expensive. The children of well-off families studied there—doctors, lawyers, businesspeople. A modern building, a swimming pool, a gym, small classes of twelve children.

My daughter was happy. She said my granddaughter would receive a European-level education, interact with the right kids, and have a future.

On the first of September, I went to see my granddaughter start school. She stood in her new uniform, with a backpack, a little frightened but joyful. My daughter kissed her, took photos, and waved.

A week passed. On Saturday, my daughter brought my granddaughter to me. She said she had errands to run and would pick her up in the evening. My granddaughter was quiet and pensive. I asked how school was. She shrugged.

We had lunch, and I turned on a cartoon for her. She watched absentmindedly, not laughing. Then suddenly, she turned off the TV, came over to me, and sat down next to me.

I stroked her head. I asked if everything was okay. She was silent for a moment, then quietly said, “Grandma, I’m scared to go there.”

I became alert. I asked why. She lowered her eyes and began to explain.

There’s a girl in her class. Her parents are very wealthy—her father owns a big company. She has expensive things, jewelry, the latest model phone. She sits in the center of the class, and all the children listen to her.

On the first day, she approached my granddaughter, looked at her backpack, and said, “Yours is cheap. So, you’re poor.” Then she turned around and told the other kids, “Don’t be friends with her. She’s not one of us.”

Since that day, no one in the class talks to my granddaughter. The kids play during breaks—she’s not invited. They sit down to eat—no one sits next to her. The teacher divides the class into pairs for assignments—my granddaughter is always alone.

And that girl continues. She laughs at her clothes. Points at her shoes. Says her mom isn’t rich, that they live in an ordinary apartment, not a house.

My granddaughter told me all this in a quiet voice, without looking up. Then she added, “Grandma, I don’t want to go there. It’s dangerous. I’m afraid she’ll do something else.”

I hugged her. Asked if her mom knew. She shook her head. She said her mom worked so hard to get her into that school and was so happy. She didn’t want to upset her.

In the evening, my daughter came to pick up my granddaughter. I took her to the kitchen and closed the door. I told her everything.

My daughter turned pale. She said she had no idea. She thought everything was fine. That my granddaughter said every day that school was okay.

I asked what she planned to do. My daughter said she’d talk to the teacher, the principal. That such things shouldn’t happen at a prestigious school.

A week later, she called me. Her voice was tired. She had gone to the school, talked to the teacher. The teacher shrugged, said kids will be kids, that my granddaughter needed to learn to be stronger.

My daughter went to the principal. The principal listened, nodded. Said she would have a talk. But when my daughter mentioned the girl’s last name, the principal hesitated. She said, “You understand, her parents are major sponsors of the school. We can’t just…”

My daughter came home and cried. Because she realized: at this prestigious school, money is more important than children. The status of a family is more important than fairness.

The next day, she withdrew her from the school. Transferred my granddaughter to a regular school near home. There’s no pool or small classes there. But there are no children who measure people by money either.

My granddaughter went there on Monday. That evening, she called me and said, “Grandma, three girls played with me today. And no one asked about my backpack.”

I listened to her cheerful voice and thought: how is it that the most expensive schools sometimes teach children the cheapest values?

Would you keep your child in a prestigious school for their future or take them out, regardless of the money invested?

****

My daughter enrolled my granddaughter in the most prestigious school in our city — expensive, with a swimming pool and beautiful classrooms. Everyone said it was a great opportunity to study there. Only a week passed. On Saturday my granddaughter came to stay with me for the weekend, and I started asking how she liked her new school. She sat beside me and stayed silent for a long time. Then she quietly said:
– Grandma, I don’t want to go there anymore. It’s scary there.
At first I thought it was just childish fears. But what she told me next made me, for the first time in my life, truly afraid for my granddaughter. And I immediately called my daughter…
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