Problems that repeat every year, compromising schools and teaching quality
Three weeks into the school year, the federation of parents across the Azores archipelago placed before regional authorities a formal account of what happens when institutional neglect becomes routine: children without supervision, buildings that leak, specialists who never arrived, and a digital future that four years on remains mostly promise. The complaint is not a cry of despair but a measured insistence that the gap between policy and lived reality has grown too wide to ignore. In the slow arithmetic of governance, it is the youngest and most vulnerable who pay the difference.
- 173 operational assistants are on medical leave across the islands, leaving playgrounds unwatched, cafeterias closed, and hallways uncleaned — a vacancy that will not be filled until well into 2026.
- Schools built recently already have water streaming down walls beside newly installed smart boards, elevators that don't move, and sports facilities with no hot water — maintenance budgets of two thousand euros a year cannot hold the tide.
- Students with disabilities are losing therapeutic activities because there is no fuel money for transport, while teachers quietly spend their own wages on classroom supplies that the system refuses to provide.
- A digital transition launched four years ago has left some schools without materials until December or January, and when European funding ends, no one has answered what happens next — or to the students whose exam-review materials are locked behind expired licenses.
- The parents' federation is not demanding collapse but collaboration: a hybrid learning model, real budget autonomy for schools, and a seat at the table — with the quiet warning that if dialogue fails, they will remain exactly where they are.
Three weeks into the school year, the federation representing parents and guardians across the Azores delivered a formal complaint to regional education authorities, cataloguing failures that have quietly become structural: absent workers, crumbling buildings, missing specialists, and a digital overhaul that four years in still hasn't landed.
The most immediate wound is the shortage of operational assistants — the people who supervise playgrounds, serve meals, and keep schools clean. On October 20th, 173 of them were on medical leave across the islands. Schools have tried to fill the gaps by leaning on workers already past sixty, a practice the federation's president, Pedro Tavares, called unsustainable. A recruitment drive announced in June didn't hold its tests until mid-October, and hiring won't conclude until early 2026 — by which point, the federation argues, the school year will already be lost.
Inclusive education is barely functioning. Multidisciplinary support teams are buried in paperwork, therapeutic activities have been cancelled for lack of fuel money, and teachers are purchasing basic materials from their own salaries. Teacher shortages have pushed schools to merge grade levels and swell class sizes beyond reasonable limits.
The physical state of school buildings ranges from neglected to alarming. Newly constructed schools already have leaking roofs. The secondary school in Lagoa has smart boards on walls that water runs down. Elevators don't work. Cafeterias are closed. Schools with over three hundred students receive just two thousand euros annually for preventive maintenance, with no flexibility to address small problems before they become costly ones.
The digital transition, meant to modernize learning, has instead produced confusion and inequality. Physical textbooks were abolished, but equipment arrives late or not at all. Some schools won't have digital materials until December or January. When European funding ends, no plan exists for sustaining the infrastructure — and students preparing for national exams find that annual digital licenses have expired, locking away the material they need to review.
The federation is not asking for the system to be torn down. It wants a hybrid model, real training for teachers, budget autonomy for basic repairs, and genuine dialogue with the regional government. Tavares's closing words were measured but firm: they have documented what is broken, and they are waiting to see if anyone is listening.
Three weeks into the school year in the Azores, the federation representing parents and guardians across the archipelago delivered a formal complaint to regional education authorities. The document, handed over on October 16th, laid out a catalog of structural failures that have become routine: not enough hands to supervise children, buildings falling apart, specialists who don't exist, and a digital overhaul that four years in still isn't working.
The most immediate crisis is the absence of operational assistants—the people who watch playgrounds, serve lunch, clean hallways, and keep schools running. On October 20th, official data showed 173 of these workers were on medical leave across the islands. That number matters because schools without them cannot function properly. Playgrounds go unwatched. Cafeterias close. Bathrooms don't get cleaned. The federation's president, Pedro Tavares, called the situation "very grave." Some schools have tried to compensate by asking workers already past sixty to cover the gaps, a practice he described as unsustainable and unfair. A recruitment drive was announced in June, but tests weren't held until October 17th, and hiring won't be finished until the first quarter of 2026. By then, the federation argues, the entire school year will have been compromised.
The federation also challenges the formula used to calculate how many assistants each school should receive. The regional education directorate's numbers, they say, don't reflect what schools actually need. They're asking for the math to be redone—not as an abstract exercise, but because real children in real classrooms are being left without proper care and attention.
Inclusive education, which is supposed to give extra support to students with disabilities or learning differences, is barely functioning. The multidisciplinary teams responsible for implementing these programs are drowning in paperwork and lack basic resources. Some schools can't run therapeutic activities because there's no money for fuel to transport students. Teachers are buying essential materials out of their own pockets. Meanwhile, teacher shortages have forced schools to combine grade levels in single classrooms and swell class sizes beyond reasonable limits.
The physical condition of school buildings ranges from neglected to alarming. Some newly built schools already have water leaking through ceilings. The secondary school in Lagoa has smart boards installed in classrooms while water streams down the walls beside them. The secondary school in Antero de Quental has non-functional elevators. The sports facility at São Roque do Pico has no hot water. Several school cafeterias are simply not operational. Schools with more than three hundred students receive only two thousand euros per year for preventive maintenance—a sum the federation calls impossible to work with. The regional directorate controls all spending, leaving school leaders with no flexibility to fix small problems before they become expensive disasters. The federation is asking for schools to have some budget autonomy for basic repairs.
The digital transition, launched four years ago, was meant to modernize learning. Instead, it has created confusion and inequality. Physical textbooks were abolished, forcing students to rely entirely on digital versions. But equipment arrives late or not at all, so teachers resort to photocopies and improvised solutions. Some schools won't have access to digital materials until December or January. The federation worries about what happens when the European funding that pays for this runs out—will the regional government keep paying? What happens to old equipment? And there's a practical problem no one seems to have thought through: students in ninth and twelfth grade need to review material from earlier years to prepare for national exams, but annual digital licenses expire. Once they do, the material is locked away.
The federation is not calling for the system to be dismantled. It's asking for a hybrid model that lets teachers choose between digital and physical materials based on what works best for their subject. It wants training for teachers in how to actually use these tools in the classroom. And it wants partnership—real dialogue between parents, schools, and the regional government to solve these problems together. "We've received some responses," Tavares said, "and we're counting on collaborative work and communication to create solutions. If that doesn't happen, we'll be here." The tone is measured but firm: the federation has documented what's broken, and it's waiting to see if anyone is listening.
Citas Notables
Schools cannot ensure supervision in playgrounds, support in cafeterias, porter services, photocopying, and cleaning due to lack of operational assistants— Pedro Tavares, president of FAPA
The situation is very grave and compromises the entire school year— Pedro Tavares, president of FAPA
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does the absence of 173 assistants matter so much? Can't teachers just supervise the playground?
Teachers are already stretched thin. Assistants do the work that keeps a school functioning—they're not extras. Without them, playgrounds become unsafe, cafeterias close, bathrooms don't get cleaned. It's not about comfort; it's about basic operations.
The federation mentions that some assistants are over sixty and compensating for absences. What does that actually mean day-to-day?
It means an older worker is doing the job of two people, covering shifts they shouldn't have to cover, because there's no one else. It's exhausting, and it's not sustainable. The federation sees it as a sign the system is broken, not just stretched.
On the digital transition—why is abolishing physical textbooks controversial? Isn't that just modernization?
It would be, if the digital infrastructure actually worked. But equipment arrives months late, licenses expire and lock students out of material they need for exams, and some schools still don't have access. The federation isn't against digital learning; they want both options so teachers can choose what works.
The school buildings sound genuinely dangerous. Is anyone at risk?
Yes. Water leaking into classrooms, non-functional elevators, broken sports equipment that hasn't been inspected for safety. The federation points out that a law requires regular inspections of sports equipment, but it's not being followed. These aren't cosmetic problems.
What does the federation actually want to happen?
They want the regional government to treat this as urgent, not routine. They want schools to have some budget control so they can fix small problems before they become big ones. They want the recruitment of assistants to happen now, not next spring. And they want to be part of the solution, not just the ones pointing out the problems.
Do they think the government is listening?
They're hopeful but cautious. They've delivered a detailed report and they're open to dialogue. But they've also made clear: if nothing changes, they'll keep pushing. This isn't their first year raising these issues.