Tonight was prize giving at school and I always feel proud… too much of what we do as teachers, especially in a school like ours (smoothstones and Lily: it still belongs to you both) is moan about our pupils’ shortcomings and rage against the politics involved in inter staff relations.
Tonight was about achievement: our first prize giving in our new state of the art school building: an opportunity to remember that this in an academic year of turmoil our pupils managed to achieve the best GCSE results since the school first amalgamated. Our choir sang two songs from the much typed about show and JG had to pin me to my seat to keep me from leaping about in pleasure: it made me excited for the performances.
The Speakers at these things tend to rate somewhere between truly terrible and mediocre: we occasionally manage words of wisdom…but these are the exception rather than the rule. Tonight we were enthralled by a man of true merit and absolute humanity: who described the teaching staff (of the world and not just Bangor) as ‘instillers of hope’. He talked about the work of ‘his friend’ Desmond Tutu and schools in South African townships which were held together with goodwill, hard work and a hope of a brighter future.
His wife who had a degree in law and one in medicine: but left her own career to be a ‘clergy wife’ spoke eloquently about the invitation; offered her thanks and congratulations with warmth and humour. Typically the wives give out the prizes and remain mute; lobbying the Boss to have a female speaker is a ‘to do’ list item that never gets my attention.
I’m a willing audience member; sitting ready to be entertained, engaged, inspired: rarely do all things happen in one sitting; and rarely do any of us get to feel that we are in the presence of actual greatness.
So tonight I’m grateful for inspiration, I’m grateful for the privileges of my job: an instiller of hope is a title I’ll work hard to live up too.
