Piercing the gloom

I always say, if asked, that the most difficult months in a school are November and February. I don’t know why I’ve always found this time of year so bleak; perhaps it’s the circadian rhythms and the short days which affect me. This winter, we’ve weathered more storms with alphabetical names than you can wave a stick at, but now we’re beginning to glimpse those tantalising signs that spring really might be around the corner. And, in the big wide world of national education, could we be turning a corner too?

Some 15 years ago I decided at this time of year to enter the word ‘fun’ into the search box on the DfE website: the answer returned gloomily ‘not found’. I did the same again last month and found a plethora of articles. Good Green Fun, ran the first; Winter Sports: Stay Safe on the Slopes ran the next, followed by my personal favourite, Frances the Firefly: Guidance for teaching pupils about the dangers of fire. I’m so relieved to see that the DfE is at last finding the meaning of fun and can only hope that, one day in the near future, OFSTED will too. Wouldn’t that be a legacy for any Secretary of State for Education? OFSTED no longer thought of as responsible for making teachers’ lives miserable but as recognising that education should include, somewhere and somehow, the notion and celebration of fun.

I remarked to a class of 13-year-olds to whom, poor souls, I teach Latin that, having last year moved the exams for their year group from the summer to the Easter term, we could have fun with some real Latin literature once the exams are behind us. One of their number observed drily (and it’s probably not the observation you are expecting) that his prep school headmaster had banned fun. Even allowing for 13-year-old rhetoric, I’m still glad that I’m not that particular headmaster.

Stephen Winkley, one of my many and great mentors, used to say, whenever we were dealing with something difficult at school, “Remember, it’s supposed to be fun.” It’s important to be reminded of that: education should be fun. And thanks to Duncan Fowler-Watt, February at Bryanston is precisely that. As always on the weekend before half term, the A3 Festival (which some might think is an unnecessary indulgence) pierces the gloom and illuminates with its glorious mash-up of art, music, drama, fashion, and sheer fun. This is not something which just happens, of course: it takes enormous drive and dedication from Duncan to inspire a whole year group to acts of creativity they would never before have dared…or thought themselves capable of. As he and I stood together on the steps of the terrace last Saturday break time (with the governors watching on, having adjourned a sub-committee meeting for this very purpose) the A3 year group, in marvellous fancy dress, performed the conga, in the teeth of Storm Imogen, around the round pond. "I love this moment," Duncan confided in me, "It's pure joy."

Measure that, Mr Gradgrind; put that in your league tables, you schools who think, in your heart of hearts, whatever you say in your propaganda, that examinations and grades are the only things that truly matter. The good which comes from such creativity and teamwork is, in my view, simply incalculable and will, I know, encourage this generation of Bryanstonians on to more exciting things still. They will never forget their A3 Festival weekend, whether they were Scooby Doo, a fried egg, or the 12 apostles who ate their last supper at breakfast that morning. And, of course, the torch passes on. Each D, C and B pupil will take their own inspiration and look forward to making their A3 Festival the best one ever. It’s how things should be.

It’s through relishing life’s moments of fun and joy, properly and fully, without the feeling that such emotions are somehow not valid, or a waste of our serious purpose and time, that we learn to weather life’s toughest challenges. All the more reason to make sure there are always plenty of moments of pure joy.

Have a joyful and fun-filled half term!

An antidote to tedium

Being a teacher for nearly 28 years means you think a fair bit about years, terms, months, weeks and lessons and occasionally even remember being on the receiving end of things. I will always be very grateful to Birkenhead High School GPDST, as it was then called, for offering me an entrée into Classics, my calling, and so on to teaching, my vocation. In between I had four mostly wonderful years at university and one pretty ghastly year as an articled clerk to a notary public in the City of London. I’m sure it wasn’t much fun for them either.

I think I know, therefore, not only the feeling of doing what is fulfilling and empowering, but also the reverse, dragging oneself through tedium. Neil Boulton, now retired, once observed in one of our weekly conversations when he was Director of Studies that I had clearly spent a good deal of my own time at school being bored. And his implication was that I was not very good at being bored. It was only then I put the various pieces of the jigsaw puzzle together to realise that, not only was he spot on, but that the last thing I would want for any pupil at a school in which I’m involved is for them to be bored.

A3 Festival: Blacklight exhibition

This weekend has seen the joyous ‘bonkersness’ of the A3 Festival, in which one year group entertains the rest of the school for a whole weekend. Some Gradgrinds might argue that these pupils should be slaving away at their books instead of preparing for and taking part in this weekend of huge creative activity. My view is that those who work hard in the classroom can afford to spend a weekend having creative, extra-mural fun. And those who don’t find it comes naturally to them to slave away in the groves of Academe can learn how to do so by getting stuck in with their peers in an active joint enterprise. This particular weekend helps most A3s to learn to be outside their comfort

A3 Festival: Art installation

zone, whether on stage, or directing; whether creating outstanding art installations or modelling for the fashion show; whether performing in the classical, acoustic, or rock concert. And this year it was Niamh Simpson (A3 Hn) who followed the impressive annual A3 Festival tradition of being the pupil brave and talented enough to write, direct and perform her own play, The Princess Initiative. Old Bryanstonians often tell me that they feel the Festival enriched their lives not just for one weekend, but in some cases for much longer as it showed them the way ahead for beyond Bryanston.

An abundant life, as former Bryanston headmaster Thorold Coade would have it, is about a range of opportunities and a depth to those in which you decide to specialise. It is the prescription for a happy and fulfilled life and an antidote to tedium. I think it’s an essential constituent part of education and I hope it lasts for life.

Time and space

If you ask Old Bryanstonians about what they remember of their school days the reply is always pretty much the same: the people and the place. The people you might think speak for themselves, and to some extent they do, given that you really would hope that the people who have had a profound effect upon your educational and emotional progress as a teenager and the friendships made would rate highly on any school leaver's list of strongest memories. But the place at Bryanston ranks almost equally highly; the two, people and place, are to my mind inseparable.

The thing about a boarding school education that no day school, however exceptional, can emulate is the provision of time and space. The boarding school day seems barmily long to a child of 13 who wants to be home at 3.30pm or even 6pm eating peanut butter on toast and watching CBBC. The day at boarding school, where boarding is done properly, finishes at 9pm or later. The week finishes on Saturday afternoon after sport and starts the following morning on Sunday when, during whole school weekends, there is a choice between Sunday service in church, with our incomparable Chaplain, or a non-religious but hopefully entertaining Sunday Assembly. On those weekends when a good deal of the boarders may go home, there is the option of a long lie-in on Sunday and cracking food when you get up, thanks to the award-winning Mike Thorne and his team of caterers. Busy weekends are full of activity, from balloon debates to battle of the bands; quiet weekends might take the form of time with friends in the house, trips to the cinema, or even, mirabile dictu, work.

This activity, high octane or low key, is what allows people to forge friendships with each other. It is far easier in my experience to make real and lasting friendships if you are working alongside someone in house drama or playing alongside them in house football, than if you sit together, passively, at a 'social event'. And at boarding school you really do find friends who stay friends forever.

And then there is the place. The place at Bryanston is 400 acres of Dorset countryside, which allows for all kinds of sporting activity. The obvious ones take place on pitches and courts and change according to season. But there is also a range of other activities allowed by the place such as beekeeping, bell ringing, kayaking, climbing, horse riding, rowing, playing in the grounds, climbing trees and camping.

If you are going to make the most of all of these opportunities, you need the time in which to do it. And we come back to the beginning: 'time and space'. The place itself and being happy and active in the place are inextricably linked. Bertie Wooster puts it succinctly in his flawless schoolboy Latin when he talks of 'the jolly old genius loci'. The campus at Bryanston adds to the opportunities on offer and provides the space in which these opportunities can be enjoyed to the full. Few people leave Bryanston without favourite memories of the countryside in which the school is set, be it the river, the playing fields, or Beechwood Lawn. And even fewer leave without memories of the Coade Hall, where we all meet at least twice a week, or of the Main School, the glorious original house, once a grand home to the Portman family and their household and now a comfortable home and school for 670 pupils. Generations to come will continue to remember Basement Corridor, the Cafe, and the social area of this warm and friendly house because it is here that they made their friends for life.