No more teachers, no more books?

WHO Vicki Barrie WHAT Principal, Northcote College WHERE Price Waterhouse Coopers Tower cafe WHY Because schools are begging for money
She could so easily have been a part of this hubbub of megamoney commerce, of big business. Instead, Vicki Barrie is principal of a North Shore college that is crying broke.
It's been a year since she surveyed nine other Shore schools and revealed the institutions are raising 51 per cent of their budgets themselves.
New Ministry of Education figures, released this week, show revenue from "locally raised funds" grew to $564 million nationally last year from $508 million a year earlier. For the Auckland region, the figure was $205 million contributions from parents, community trusts and fees from international students.
It's mid-term break, so a relaxed Vicki's already polishing off her first flat white when I arrive in the white marbled lobby.
"I'll have another," she says. "I'm just getting started."
Around us, businessmen and -women compare spreadsheets and circle points of interest with their Montblanc fountain pens. We settle into white leather chairs and talk about basic education needs and a Minister of Education who appears to be listening to calls for alms without doing much.
"We have met with [Chris Carter] twice. The first time he undertook to go away and look at the issues we had raised. The second time we were pleased that he had the Secretary of Education there as well. But it would be fair to say we remain disappointed with the lack of action."
Vicki was headed for a career in business. She started studying for a Masters in Commerce at Waikato University, majoring in economics. "I realised I'd probably end up in Wellington and the idea of a city life didn't appeal. It's quite strange to consider that I've been in Auckland since 1987."
I ask what her cartel of schools hopes to achieve and she correctly infers I'm making a point about how little it seems to have done so far.
"When I came in here today," she waves an upturned palm,
"there were four, young, successful looking corporate people at the next table and I wondered why some of these people didn't become teachers. It says something about our values and it's something that needs to change.
"In the winter that is just passing, my teachers have been spending time cold and wet. You compare that with this spectacular place. Or even," she smiles with a hint of mischief in hazel eyes, "compared with the airconditioned offices at the Ministry of Education."
There is something about this 46-year-old that is engaging when she speaks. The combination of red hair and sombre black outfit gives an air of dignified passion. This air flares as she talks of the expectations that parents have for their children these days, and how schools aren't being given the wherewithal to fulfil that role.
Vicki was raised with clear expectations that she would achieve. This is despite or perhaps, because of - the fact her father left school at 13.
"I don't know when it was decided in my family that education was important for myself and my older brother. But there was no distinction between the son and the daughter, we were both expected to stay in school and then go to university."
Vicki now insists all students at Northcote College attend open days at universities, whatever their ambitions.
"Universities are a community resource and they need to know what's there."
I ask if schools have got carried away with too many frills and might they be better off financially if they got back to the basics.
"We're still trying to get the minister to give a clarification of what his view is of a 'basic quality education'," she says, wriggling her fingers at the last few words.
"We want students to be engaged; to ask the questions that we haven't even thought of yet. Engagement is really important and, to get that, you have to provide students with options.
Choice in a curriculum costs money.
"Some people in government," she winces visibly, "would probably say sport is a frill."
Vicki doesn't recoil from her role as an agitator, an advocate for better resourced education, but she insists it isn't a part she sought.
"As a principal, you have a responsibility to be involved in the wider community. That is what I'm doing, but I'm a teacher at heart, I certainly didn't plan to be in this situation."
She laughs at my suggestion that she might be an effective politician' is she on the list of some party for this election?
"I'm only interested in outcomes for education," she smiles. "I'm not politically active other than that."
Next call for Vicki and her fellow principals is probably all walking together into meetings with politicians. Her easy manner solidifies into seriousness and she hints darkly at potential trouble among boards of trustees if the Government continues the "we'll think about it" approach.
"The schools haven't known a financial situation as difficult as what we are currently in. There is a negative trend in the number of parents willing to pay the donation.
"The current underfunding of schools has the potential to undermine the current governance structure. As schools slide into debt, people will be less inclined to become trustees."
I feel like I've been personally briefed by a gravely concerned corporate adviser. Making my way out, I think: she would have made a formidable businesswoman.