The Autumn 2015 issue of Sidcotian Friends magazine is now available, this time with the theme aligning with our Quaker values of caring for the environment, it is titled “Tread lightly on this Earth”. With the usual tales of life, love and adventures both during schooldays and beyond – have a read and see if you can recognise any familiar faces!
Click on this link to read the magazine – if you would like to request a hard copy in the post, please email alumni@sidcot.org.uk
This time Sidcotians speak truth to power with articles about how they have stood up for what they believe in. Packed with news, stories and memories of life, love and mischief both at school and post-Sidcot, the magazine is a great way to stay in touch with your former classmates and teachers. If you would like to receive a copy in the post, please email alumni@sidcot.org.uk
Click on the link to view the magazine! Sidcotian Friends Magazine – Spring 2015
Blast from the past! A Dymond speech from yesteryear
Those Little Things was a winning speech by Vincent (formerly known as Adam) Gaine who was a pupil at Sidcot 1991-1995). If you would like to share your past speeches, poems or short stories, please email alumni@sidcot.org.uk
Vincent – life after Sidcot has seen him graduate from University and write a book!
This speech is called “Those Little Things”, so that’s what I’m going to talk about. There was rumour around, or so I heard, that the title of my speech actually had nothing to do with its contents, but that’s not true, I am going to talk about “Those Little Things”.
I thought I would start with a little song; it’s about my sex life.
(Pause)
That’s it! Just like my sex life in fact, non-existent!
Of course, sex could certainly be regarded as one of “those little things”, but there are others which I am probably more qualified to talk about, and I also have a terrible singing voice. So, for a number of good reasons, instead of a song, I’ll tell you a story.
Once upon a time, a boy was of about eleven or twelve was walking home from school when two bigger boys in his year came after him. One of them started to push him around and throw drink from his can over the smaller boy, and tuged at his coat and bag and tried to trip him up. But the other bigger boy pushed him off, telling the bully to stop.
As the smaller boy was crossing a common that was part of the walk home, the bully ran at him and shoved him hard. The smaller boy would have only staggered back, but the second bigger boy had crouched down behind him so his legs were swept out from under him and he fell flat on his back. The two bullies laughed loudly at this and strolled away, still laughing.
The smaller boy was not hurt by the fall, but what did hurt was the fact that the second bigger boy, who had helped him at first, had actually been setting him up for a more horrible attack. The smaller boy felt greatly upset because the second bigger boy had acted friendly, just for the purpose of hurting him more.
That small, frightened, victimised boy, whom we shall call Horace, was used to such occurrences, but just because being bullied was a regular part of his life didn’t make it any easier. Another day when he was actually at school, in a Humanities lesson, the class was doing an exercise on pocket money. At the time, Horace received sixty pence pocket money a week, because he didn’t really have a use for any more. He was content with sixty pence a week, but one of the stupider and nastier people in the class happened to look over his shoulder. Immediately, this boy started shouting about how Horace only received 60p, and within five minutes all of the pupils in the class were laughing at it. Some of them received a fiver every week, or more if they were going down town. They made a massive joke at Horace’s expense, making him out to be some kind of inferior being. Horace was terribly upset at being treated as nothing more than a toy.
There were other incidents, but I hope that what you’ve heard so far might shed a little light on how horrible human beings can be. And that kind of persecution can have very serious effects on the victim, and I should know. I imagine you all realise that that frightened, victimised boy whom we’ve called Horace, was actually called Adam Gaine; five years ago now, yet still as fresh in my mind as the days on which they happened
Those things happened at my first secondary school an inner city comprehensive in Bristol. Over the time that I was there, the bullying I received, and the almost total nonchalance of anyone who happened to notice it, made me lose most of my faith in human kind.
I came to believe that all people were either cruel or spiteful, or else didn’t care a jot for anyone. Subconsciously, I think, I followed that idea, and became aloof, independent and a complete loner. I cut myself off from everyone around me, while the victimisation continued.
My experiences with bullying at that school were so bad that my parents looked for another one, and found Sidcot. I came here in the autumn of 1991 and joined the Lower Fourth, aloof and independent as I said. I wanted nothing to do with anyone, and stayed in an icy shell of self-containment. I wanted to be left alone more than anything else. In fact, I was so aloof, and so cold, and even openly hostile to anyone who tried to penetrate my “shell”, that, had I regressed any further into my ideas of only being out for myself at all times, and caring nothing for anyone else, the only career that I would ever have been able to follow, for the rest of my life, would have been that of a politician!
OOOPHHH! I needed that! Did you need that too? Believe me, after getting all grim and serious, a joke is just what I needed to release the tension, and I hope you agree. . However, I think I might have overstepped the bounds of propriety; ooohh I’m in trouble now! Still, no regrets, it was well worth it.
Unfortunately for the Labour Party (I’m sure I would have been a hit) I didn’t regress any further. In fact, the shell started to melt and crack, partly due to continued weathering by the warm, supportive atmosphere of Sidcot, and also because of a small number of people who seemed to be always chipping away at the shell with friendliness. The chipping, cracking and weathering continued all through my first year, and finally I emerged.
There were some specific incidents during my time here when things got better, when I either felt more at ease or more confident with people. One example would be the camp at the end of the Lower Fourth I went on. On that camp, I was at the campsite where we stayed for a week, surrounded by school people. Nothing from home, and nothing I felt really comfortable with because everything around me was alien. But I had a great time, having to get on with other pupils proved to be not as awful a trial as I had feared. I joined in on a lot of activities, for example the water skiing. Hardly any of the people who tried that were able to stay on their skis once the boat got moving, and I was no exception. But, although what the activity mainly consisted of was getting thoughroughly wet and really looking rather silly, flailing about in the water, I don’t mind telling you (and I hope I’m not embarrassing anyone else here too much); despite all that, I still joined in, and enjoyed it. I often think that that camp was one of the significant points in my social development, and there were others as well. Two notable improvements in my ease around people and my confidence with life would be the two plays I have been involved in here at Sidcot. Last summer I took part in the production “A Dream of Old Somerset” a play that was good fun but I will say no more about (and that’s probably a good thing) and last autumn’s production : “The Crucible”. That was much better, and I felt great taking part in that.
So, as time went on, my social development continued. I became more and more confident around people, made good friends, and finally reached my peak in terms of confidence, prowess and ease with people here, in the Upper Fifth. This last year has been one of the best but, in my little life of sixteen years, the last four years have been the best. That frightened, shivering, victimised little boy is gone, and this towering pillar of magisterial wonder that stands before you now is what lives in his place.
Is it just me, or did that sound just a trifle big headed? I think it did; let’s try again and what you see before you now is what lives in his place (better, huh?).
Here I am, exams completed, quite a number of awards like Life Saving 1,2,3, Duke of Edinburgh Bronze Award, and LAMDA Grade Four Improvisation Award under my belt (and you thought this was a real paunch), many activities done, at ease with people, confident in life, and it’s all thanks to Sidcot’s warm and supportive atmosphere.
Hold it! Don’t applaud yet, I’m not finished. Fooled you there, didn’t I? So, what next, I hear you think (didn’t know I was telepathic, did you?)?
That’s the 64p question (64p plus the rest of my life, I guess life is cheap). Sadly, what happens next is a melancholy thing, but one that must be told. I wanted to do this speech to create a highlight in my time here at Sidcot, but when I was writing it I realised that I want it to be THE highlight of my career; this is how I want to be remembered and this is my farewell. So, of course, that means I am leaving. As I said, best four years of my life, but now they are at an end. The reason? Well that is, literally, the big money question, because that is the problem. I would love, above all other things, to stay here for the Sixth Form, but it is impossible, because of money:. My parents cannot afford to keep me here. I do not blame the school for this, I’m sure they know a lot more about financing than I do. Nor do I blame the Government, though if I could think of a reason I probably would. It is simply bad luck, and so could only be cured by great good luck, like winning the Lottery (who says money isn’t everything?) .
If I was careless, I could easily lose you now by getting gushy and overly sentimental, and you’d probably start to feel queasy. I hope that won’t happen. I don’t want to make anyone sick (although, if I did, it would add new meaning to the phrase “Reveal what is .within”) but if l do make anyone ill, just let me know and I’ll pause to allow them to leave.
At first, I was crushed when I learned that there was no chance of staying here, but, painfully and with some degree of difficulty, I have come to accept the fact that my time at Sidcot, like all good things, has come to an end. I am still disappointed and upset about it, but something positive has come out of this well of misery (Oh err, this is a good opportunity for a cliché lover): I am not the only one who is sad about my departure, and that reveals something to me. Although, in the four years I’ve been here, I have emerged from my shell and made friends and formed good relationships, I have still been cautious of people, not wanting to put too much faith in them. But recently, many people have been telling me that they will be sad to see me go and that they will miss me, and even that, if they could, they would help me to stay (so if they won the Lottery, they would help to pay for me to stay, and I’m not joking about that, some people have actually said that to me). That means something. It means that I now know that my old ideas about all humans beings being out only for themselves and not caring about anything else is definitely not true; the habits of politicians are the exception, not the rule. Some people can be depended on, once they get a chance to show it. There are a few people in here that I feel a strong and special bond with, but I would not embarrass them by calling out their commonly used names, so I’ll use “code” names for them: Gwendoline, Victoria, Joy, Mervyn, Alistair and Jeanette, thank you. Those names won’t mean anything to most of you, but they are a special and private message to those special people. But, as well as that strong, personal bond, I also feel a bond with all of the people, students and staff, at Sidcot School who contribute to the warmth and security of its atmosphere.
Vincent pictured with his wife Amanda
Roger Reynolds attended Sidcot School 1946-1953 – here he puts forward his view of the Government announcement to use former military personnel to assist in the education of school children. If you have a point of view you would like to share, please comment on this blog or email alumni@sidcot.org.uk
An Alternative View
I feel I must comment on the views set out in the recent ‘Sidcotians’ Community’statement, relating to ‘Government drafts in the military to build character in schools’
I’m afraid that I couldn’t open the details of the ‘government’s proposals’(due to some kind of security warning on the site plus my lack of computer expertise!)so am uncertain exactly what is being proposed. However, I did read something in the papers some months ago indicating that the government was considering using ex-armed forces personnel to help in schools and, also the adverse reaction to this received from some of the teachers’ unions.
My own view, for what it is worth, is that helping children in the more disadvantaged schools is vital for both them and the rest of the country. I have done a little ‘volunteer reading’ in primary schools where more than 75% of the children have English as a second language. Sadly, some of them fall behind, move to the back of the classroom, cause problems and then drop out completely. In this situation,which is not uncommon in some of our larger cities, anyone who can help children to make progress from a low base, should be encouraged.
If this involves individuals with a military background being brought in to assist with teaching, then I think this is a positive step as long as headteachers are in favour. They may, or may not, be as qualified academically but they can often make an impression in other ways. In fact, I think that you may be taking a somewhat biased view of the typical ex-military individual, who might wish to be involved with teaching or helping in schools. Whether you approve or not, many Sidcotians were involved with a spell of ‘National Service’, and some of them, I know, went on to teach, having spent two years learning a wide range of skills in the Army, Navy or Air Force. We did not all end up as a bunch of tough disciplinarians favouring a ‘bootcamp’ regime !
In my case I spent fifteen months, of my two years National Service, being trained, including five months at the RAF Technical College. Subsequently, while at university, I came across a number of engineering students who were being put through university by the Royal Navy. In practice, many officers and NCO’s in the Services went through long periods of training, both academic and in personal management.
During my education I was taught by a number of ex-military teachers who were respected for their firmness and fairness. They also tended to dress more smartly than some other teachers which, I feel sure helped to impress us ! I also recall non-military teachers, at Sidcot, who threw things if someone was being inattentive (not allowed these days !). However, as long as they were fair, while maintained class discipline, and able to put over their subject, then they were still respected and achieved good results,
If you have, as I have, watched a number of TV programmes, such as ‘Educating Essex’,’Educating Yorkshire’, ‘Tough Young Teachers’, etc., which have shown the problems of both experienced and trainee teachers in struggling to cope with classes in some Inner City schools, then the firm application of defined rules and discipline was clearly important. This is often the strength of ex-forces personnel, who do not necessarily achieve results by overbearing methods, but are trained to be firm and consistent. This helps them in enforcing a school’s policy, in areas such as uniforms ,running, disturbance in class, fighting etc.etc. For some children this works.
Obviously we were incredibly lucky at Sidcot for all kinds of reasons. The majority of us came from somewhat similar backgrounds, often with a Quaker influence, and we were relatively well behaved. On the whole we wanted to learn the subjects being taught and there was very little low level disturbance in classes, even with the ‘weaker’ teachers. Also, possibly because we were mainly boarders at that time (1946-53), we tended to get on well together, had set times for ‘prep’, and were able to interact with staff outside the classrooms. The surrounding countryside was fantastic, the staff were mainly excellent and very supportive, and there was a wide range of sports and cultural activities available to help us to develop.
The whole background and ethos of Sidcot is so completely different from that of a typical Inner City school, that solutions which work in the former are not easily translated to the latter. I completely understand that someone with a ‘military’ background, is unlikely to be selected as a teacher at a Quaker based school, such as Sidcot, but that’s not to say they couldn’t do the job perfectly well, if suitably qualified, However, they can certainly offer benefits to less fortunate schools.
Roger Reynolds (1946-1953)
Quaker schools take an opposing stance, as outlined by Iain Kilpatrick, Headteacher of Sidcot School in Somerset and Jackie Bagnall, Director of Peace and Global Studies at Sidcot (the first to be appointed to a school in the UK).
As if Michael Gove’s educational strategy hasn’t already tried to launch us back into the rote-learning era of the 70s, new education secretary Nicky Morgan, is now harking back to the days of national service, by investing millions in funding for military boot camp type projects to instill discipline and build “character, resilience and grit” in young people.
The military in schools? Surely not says Quaker school
How does this kind of thinking fit with education in the 21st century? How will this prepare young people for a world that demands creativity and problem solving, not conformists who are trained to function within a directed, structured framework?
It’s not difficult to picture the scene already underway in schools, with children and young people being instructed by adults in military uniform delivering these quasi boot camps. There’s no subtlety to this approach, with funding going to organisations such as Commando Joe’s, Challenger Troop and Skillforce who deliver a range of activities the government say will help students improve their performance in school and beyond, based around an ‘A, B, C, D building block of character’ model -Altruism, Bounce back, Comfort zone busting and Destination.
What will be the affect of this approach on children, already identified as disadvantaged? What will they learn? To follow rules without question, to do as they are told and not think for themselves, to respond to aggression and to conform through fear. How will this develop the creative, problem solving, free-thinking, decision makers of the future? We do not need a public service focussed on war to turn around the lives of disadvantaged young people. For those facing hardship, they need meaningful opportunities to secure employment, not to develop resilience to the pain and frustration of inequality.
Quakers across the country are challenging this new tide of militarisation and as a Quaker school, at Sidcot, we place the values of simplicity, truth, equality and peace at the heart of our school.
Throughout this last century, we have embedded character, resilience and personal development into our core educational ethos and as a result, our pupils are primed to become the change-makers in society. And we challenge mainstream educators to resist the introduction of military doctrine into schools and consider how an approach like ours can support the development of children of all ages in all types of schools.
Jackie Bagnall is Sidcot’s Director of the Peace & Global Studies Centre
Discipline, character and resilience are being developed naturally in our school every day, underpinned by our focus on intrinsic foundations of strong self-esteem and personal confidence. We live our values and embrace the concept of “living life adventurously”.
We start with a core Quaker ethos of speaking truth to power. Our pupils are valued on a personal level in our schools and are encouraged to speak out and have an opinion. The value we place on each individual means they can do so without fear of ridicule or reprimand. We encourage young people to value themselves alongside their teachers and to question and challenge decisions. This is not disobedience – this is critical thinking, students are encouraged to think about what they are learning, and what is happening around them and to formulate a well-reasoned challenge.
Our teachers are known by their first names – and are respected for their position as facilitators of learning, helping pupils to learn, explore and create their own understanding of the world today. Quaker schools have rules and codes of conduct, but they are rules based on mutual respect and equality. Pupils at Quaker schools often self-regulate through student councils and are part of a values-based environment with a shared sense of community and personal accountability. Our students are taught to self manage and not just focus on passing exams and assessments. We offer our students the chance to shape the rules and create their own learning environment, which is a real testimony to a sense of equality and justice that they will take out into the world.
We provide students with the regular opportunity for pause and reflection through the practice of silence. Meeting for worship takes place each week and students use the silent time to reflect upon themselves and the way in which each of us face life’s challenges. Resilience comes from taking the time to look inside, to locate the inner resource necessary to bounce back from adversity.
Meeting for Worship takes place each week
Within and around the curriculum are the opportunities to explore global issues, issues which are not easily resolved, issues which have no easy answer. Through discussion students are challenged to step in the shoes of another, from a position of empathy they then engage with the issue at hand.
At the very core of the Quaker belief is the peace testimony which led Quakers to refuse military service, and to become involved in a wide range of peace activities, from practical work in areas affected by violent conflict, to the development of alternatives to violence at all levels from personal to international. But as a public we need more scrutiny on these proposals, to take notice of what is taking place in our schools. No doubt these ex-service personnel need employment after a political system considers them ‘spent’, but the government should not do not use the guise of upholding essential British values as the means to achieve this.
As we have shown at Sidcot – there is another way, and in the words of Quaker Peace and Social witness we must not let the lure of additional funding into cash strapped schools to mask the very significant intention to raise a public willing to pay for the military, make recruitment easier in to armed forces and stifle opposition to unpopular wars.
We know the Quaker way works. One of our more famous former students Tim Bevan, producer of “Four Weddings and a Funeral” and co-founder of Working Title Films, has said his time at Sidcot taught him to think for himself and to live adventurously. He has said: “The biggest take-away for me from a Sidcot education was ‘don’t be afraid to think for yourself’. I learnt tenacity, resilience, and not necessarily taking no for an answer”. How’s that for character, resilience and grit?
Tim Bevan says Sidcot taught him tenacity and resilience. Photo (c) Christian Clavadetscher
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