In 1988, I went to a fee-paying all-boys grammar school, then in 1991 left for a state comprehensive, where I finished the last term of third year, and the remaining two years of compulsory schooling, studying for GCSEs. The simple fact I’ve experienced both sides perhaps makes my contribution to the current debate quite valuable? So I thought I’d better write a few words.
I was academically gifted, passed the 11+ exam in the top 25%, felt enormous stress at pretty much being the only working class kid in my year; didn’t fit in, never had the expensive toys, hated it, and when my old man was made redundant about halfway through, I took the first opportunity I could to get out and go where my friends were. In terms of self-identity, class, where I see myself as fitting in society, having been at a public school didn’t and couldn’t change me. My opposition to the idea through summer 1988 had been fierce, which only with adult hindsight, is bordering on frightening from one so young. There wasn’t even anybody else in my year from my home town, Molesey in Surrey, and among my school friends in those days, a couple from nearby Walton and Hersham but few else, more over Richmond way, Twickenham, Cobham, Virginia Water, posher parts of town, over an impressive catchment area. I remember when the first ‘league tables’ came out – my old school was top sixty. So I got nearly three years of a far higher standard of education… Latin was my only straight A … but a bright pupil can do well at an ‘ordinary’ school too, despite the system’s failings. Lawrence, posh kid who I was sat next to in English during GCSE years – he went on to 6th form where I’d come from, then Oxbridge.
I went on to smoke lots of marijuana and develop a taste for Kronenbourg and Highland Malt. Spent what cash I had on vinyl records, dreaming of being a DJ, dabbled in pirate radio and generally became a lot more streetwise. I think the pressure put on kids that young makes them rebel later on, as I saw when we met some of my old public school friends at parties circa 16/17 – same thing, with more money and less emotional maturity. The best teachers give you a belief in yourself, in your ability, and encourage an enthusiasm for the subject. Mrs Brazil (English) achieved this and was the best teacher I ever saw; Mr Orange (Maths) had such charisma he even made his classes enjoyable; but Mr Waters (Latin) strangely enough, was a tyrant who would have used a cane if it was still legal. Military mindset ran the cadets there too. I think I was good at Latin despite him, not because of him, partly due to a photographic memory for learning lists of vocabulary. Mr Steel (Chemistry), I saw pick a lad up from his stool *by his sideburns*. Try doing that in an inner-city comprehensive? Or in front of the child’s father? I recall the three Phys Ed teachers who also taught me History and English, they were good – the kind of teachers you could actually like, more down to Earth… I wouldn’t mind having a beer with them now. One of them first introduced me to the right way to study history; another was the man who made me any good at Rugby; and the third was also my personal tutor, who applied hard discipline when I deserved it, firm but fair.
Gary, fellow pupil who excelled on the wing in the rugby team and was in said tutor group, went on to teach there too. French classes, I think. But I bet he does some History as well. The comprehensive school in Hersham… teacher’s names are largely forgettable. I did well in Science but I don’t recall her name (we called it Physics, Chemistry and Biology before, three separate classes). Mrs Mrhacova for Spanish. Mr Collins in World History – I think they like it when you’re actually interested in the subject they teach? And Mr Kidd, credit due, he cottoned on to my being part-deaf during French class… even my folks hadn’t spotted that in 16 years, it was subtle. Notably, nor did the public school, for all the fees paid. If you go and get a filling done at the dentist, and you have as-yet-undetected gum disease, you trust the professional to notice this, right?
The main difference is discipline. They’re on totally different planets. It creates two tiers of society, which mostly don’t co-exist. I’m told, once you get to Uni (I never went) you realise how many public-school kids there are out there, and what a different world they inhabit, perhaps indoctrinated to be unaware of the one you live in. It’s social engineering… you know the Eloi and the Morlocks? Bourgeoisie and Proletariat? Like that. So while I’ve no problem with schools that have good standards and facilities etc, my experience is that these are only available to those whose pocket can afford it. And that’s failing bright kids whose parents can’t. Mine probably couldn’t really, but they insisted on it. I mostly squandered that opportunity, but I’ve no regrets – academically, in the end I did all the reading anyway, by choice. That’s a tendency I had before any public school. Today, political debates with Dad about Corbyn are won and lost fifty-fifty. Extra-curricular opportunities circa age 12, were bloody excellent, I have to say. Went skiing in the Alps with that school… pretty good fun for a kid who’s already a skater. But non-public school friends did more snowboarding later and it’s probably a lot more fun as an adult, ‘piste’. Also, I did get to see things like Islamic Spain, and Tunisia… that was my parents again, not the school. Had I gone to Hinchley Wood… (the only one totally out of the question was Trinity)… I’d have been smoking weed with Pepe a few years earlier, most likely. But I still ended up there anyway, in the woods at college.
I vote close the grammar schools. Smart kids will do well if they’re brought up right. I was encouraged to read young, go to bed on time, not leave the table before finishing dinner, mind my Ps & Qs). But let them be young and enjoy it while it lasts – push them too hard, harder than they are comfortable with and they may hate you for it. My own relations with Dad never completely recovered from the decision to leave that school. But I was a lot happier. Discipline and sense-of-self starts with the parents and the child’s environment well before 11.
What happens to those posh kids who might end up alongside the ‘riff raff’? I don’t honestly care about them – stay wrapped in cotton wool too long and sooner or later you’ll learn some harsh realities, totally unprepared for real life. Naivety is a weakness, and weaknesses will always be expolited. I don’t believe Mummy & Daddy’s money should be able to buy a better education if another child is smarter but from a poorer family. I’d prefer to see those funds redirected via fair taxes on higher incomes, to bring those higher standards of discipline, and facilities, to all schools, for all pupils’ benefit.
Addendums: Little Jacob, born in London with parents from Krakow… speak to him in the language he will be taught in at school age 5… ideally both languages. Otherwise he may fall behind and too many failing for that reason, might that hold back and disrupt the whole class? Dunno, I’m not a teacher… If they do close the posh schools, I suppose the jobs market for teachers will be flooded with talent and become radically more competitive? Two friends – who have arguably done the best for themselves in work and family life, among any of my friends – one works in media, has his own place in a good part of London, is happily married and they earn enough to have recently chosen to start a family. Another lives abroad and works for a posh car firm. Again, good family life. Neither of these went to public/grammar school, nor university. The latter – I wrote his English homework for fun. Crucially though, he always knew what he wanted to do. Diploma by 22, paid for by a major car firm. And now lives it. Neither of their families were particularly poor, but their schooling was ‘normal’. The one thing they did, which I didn’t as a hedonist and amateur philosopher… they just got on with it. Hard work prevails. But I do believe that mostly, our engineered place in society has very little to do with school. It starts well before that.
I asked the friend who works abroad with the posh cars – he’d been at a Catholic school – what was the standard of discipline like? “I don’t know, I was never there Mike.”
Mike Stanley
