THE SEVEN AGES - The fifth Age.

 The Justice

‘Beard of formal cut’

40 to 55

Background music is available here

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/50OoqkzDCmmzGvRZKMGLnC?si=zIIJGPKjRNqU0DSvOf-rLg

‘Balance’will be the problem with this section. For me, it is dominated by the fact that I became the Head Teacher of Great Wood County Primary School and stayed in that post until I took early retirement at 55.

Meanwhile in the same fifteen year period Gill became the Assistant Head of Blurton High School. Tomas and Sam, well, they became university educated men of whom we are extremely proud. Windy Arbour eventually expanded to become Guest Accommodation for Alton Towers and the surrounding area of Staffordshire, Derbyshire and the Peak District, -  three rooms and three self contained ‘cottages’. 

Beginning with the mundane and trying to explain the contents of the Playlist.

BCA, ‘Book Club Associates’, sent a booklet, once a month, advertising a hundred or so ‘special edition’ books at very reasonable prices. You chose or declined their offer and returned your choices in an envelope, provided.

If, however, you failed to return the envelope then you received the ‘Editor’s Choice’ and by default felt obliged to purchase it. 

One such Editor’s Choice was ‘Bob Marley’ by T E White and a boxed set of his ‘Greatest Hits’. I had no interest in Marley. I thought he was a Motown star and had turned down tickets to see him at Stafford. I read the book, cover to cover, in a summer’s weekend with the albums playing in the background. 

I became a huge fan. Reggae became the background music of choice, and often still is. I used it at school, used Marley’s life story in many assemblies, wore reggae colours and tee-shirts (I have had conversations with ‘locals’ all over the world usually instigated by Marley’s image), visited his mausoleum/celebration site at Nine Mile in Jamaica, used reggae as the background music to breakfast when we provided breakfast for our guests... genuinely music that changed my life.

as did -

Just the simple notion of heading up my own school.

A small village school, Upper Tean in Staffordshire Moorlands. Seven Primary classes and a Nursery on two sites separated by a road.The Upper building was built in 1856. Originally a school for the ‘poor’ children of the parents working in the village tape mill, owned by the Phillips family and ultimately gifted to the evolving Staffordshire Education Committee.

Chair of the Governing Body that appointed me was Margaret Phillips, an octogenarian, living in Heath House. Her family home on the nearby Phillips Estate. 

An Aside.

...the story is that in the dim and very distant past,  monks in the area grew the very best damsons in the county. A medieval ‘cottage industry’ in dyeing already existed, linked to skills developed locally which involved the disposal of bones, from butchered farm animals, in furnaces. This produced a powder which could be used to ‘fix’ colours in dyed materials. Hence the ribbon and tape mill in Tean. Damson skins produce a deep red colour...the most famous export of the mill - ‘red tape’, which was needed ‘by the mile’ around all the government departmental documents in the empire. The school existed from these delicate threads.

The lower site, built in the sixties, one-storied, flat roof and the home of the nursery children and Key Stage One (Infants). It was set in extensive grounds for games, fringes of ‘wild areas’ and well-planned and positioned hard, all weather play areas. Ancient and Modern. I moved between the two sites each day. I hope I visited each class every day. Every child knew they were valued. All the staff, both teaching staff and support staff, were ‘on board’, moving in the same direction, unbelievably satisfying.

I had super County inspectors and advisors. They encouraged, guided and supported us as we moved our children forwards. Governors and parents were welcoming and hugely supportive. We were very much, a village school. We did ‘stuff’ for the village. The school was ‘tied in’ to all the other aspects of village life. Working was a series of pleasures and I was privileged to watch my own children work through the Primary phase of their education.

There were - dozens of ‘Reasons to be cheerful’-

• We had an Army helicopter, travel over from Ireland to land, children watching, on the centre circle of the playing field. Which they were later allowed to climb into.(the helicopter, not the centre circle!)
• All the children wore the same ‘badged’ royal blue uniform. Early on the PTFA - Parents, Teachers and Friends - decided that cost would never be a block to any Great Wood child taking part in something. The priority for their fundraising and other activities was to ensure that all children had the kit they needed, went on all the trips and visits and were in no way ‘picked out’. This was often cleverly managed. Staff could wear the same kit. I revelled in being able to work in a zippered fleece.
• There was music, where and when appropriate, throughout the school. Background music in the Main Hall, often music to ‘work to’....
• We didn’t have a Summer Fete, but instead had ‘Midsummer Madness’. All the usual stalls and money makers but with costumes and teams playing in a series of ‘It’s a Knockout’ games and contests. Head’s fancy dress -obligatory.
• Similarly we hosted the village bonfire (there was a patch of grass on the main playing field which never managed to grow properly from one year’s end to the next!) - Peter, my brother, and I became pyrotechnicians for the evening, blithely launching hundreds of pounds worth of specially crafted, lethal, Kimbolton Fireworks to appreciative “oohs” and “aahs”.
• The school had an ‘ambiance’ of cheerfulness, being child-centred, village ‘ownership’ and an ‘up-beat’ feel - which was often commented on, unsolicited, by visitors and local and national inspectors.
• Groups of actors, musicians, artists and cultural ambassadors came into school (financed by the PTFA) to extend the horizons of all the children. All Key Stage Two children (8 - 11) visited local theatres, relevant exhibitions and concerts. We prided ourselves that the children were outward looking. Sammy Laryea, a Ghanaian Potter, artist and storyteller, became a family friend after he stayed with us during an extended period as ‘artist in residence’ in local schools. Through my brother’s connections (he by this time is now deeply into teaching as a profession) we welcomed Ashley Hutchins into school. Ashley is a ‘living legend’ for  me - a founder member of ‘Fairport Convention’. He has a passion for preserving the legacy of traditional song and dance. And what better way than directly involving the youth of the country. 

• We ran a film club. We had termly Discos. We has Jumble Sales. We had harvest festivals and delivered harvest baskets to identified local people. We linked with the local church for major festivals. 
• Year Six had a week’s camp in an LEA Outdoor Centre. One of the activities was caving. Full kit, coveralls, helmets and lights - I joined one of the expeditions when I visited for a day. I became ‘stuck’ in a narrow tunnel called the ‘worm squirm’, had to pretend I was OK while mentally writing the headlines for local newspapers, it still makes me break out into a cold sweat when I think of it.
• Another Year 6 Treat was to visit Heath House for an afternoon. They had orange juice served to them, after playing ‘golf’ on the croquet lawn by Mrs Phillips’ butler. They climbed the tower and walked the maze.
• The PTFA financed and installed a full computer network around the upper school. The authority helped create a fifteen station computer area  using half of an unneeded classroom. The children were using computers across the curriculum a couple of years before government finance was made available for this development in all schools. I have always been an advocate of computers in school. I see them as a creative tool for learning, in all areas. I’d had a project published at my previous school, a database search of ‘cat criminals’ created by the children and based on a dance piece to the music of Andrew Lloyd Weber. 
• So it was not a surprise to be contacted by English Heritage who wanted  to ‘write up’  a project, throughout the school. We had a ‘whole school theme’  for part of the Summer Term based on the history of the village. My Year 5 teacher had combined a data search of Census data for the previous century with the School Record Book for the same period and found children in school who were living in the houses and pupils from the past. We developed a teacher training video for ‘Citizenship in the historic environment’. The teacher and I were invited to talk about the project in Birmingham and English Heritage supported us in several direct ways.
• A visit by a glass artist, a creator of stained glass windows, produced a window, designed by the children, installed in each building (and paid for by the authority as ‘replacement windows’. We were on very good terms with the building inspector, and budgets had to be fully spent by the end of the financial year!
• There are certain characteristics of village life for which the school became a focus, positively harnessed, this feeds it’s ambience/ethos. From ‘school gate meetings’ and ‘carol services in the church’ to ‘Bingo’ for the pensioners and drug awareness meetings for the community. The ‘family feel’ permeates all levels. I was proud that the ‘scariest’ warning I could utter was “I’ll tell your Mum” and the child knew that I could and I would. 
•   On one afternoon, I got a telephone call from my ‘Crossing Lady’ to say   that she couldn’t get in for the end of the school day. I telephoned the school authority - there was not enough time to get a replacement. I put the ‘phone down and went off to find the fluorescent coat, hat and ‘lollipop’ to do the duty and see my children safely across the road between the two buildings. Much humorous banter for thirty minutes. Day over - but the following day the Health and Safety Authority tore several strips off me for acting without training. It sort of defines ‘village school’ and it’s special nature.
• This one is hard to explain. Easy to justify in that I followed through on what I often asked of Great Wood children - to ‘be true to themselves’, this was a theme of many assemblies. I’d lost the dark suit as uniform for the Head. Somehow I decided that in my imagination my self-image still had long hair. So if I was going to be true to myself I needed to have hair that matched that self image. Albeit I was beginning to go bald, ‘thinning’ as they say. It may have been a villain in a James Bond film, I really can’t remember, but the look was short and tidy from the front with a high pony tail reaching below the shoulder line. I’m still working on the length  but the ‘look’ began to take effect about ten years into my Headship, with the foreknowledge of parents, governors, staff and children. 
• Great Wood only ever reduced me to tears once. 

I had to exclude a pupil. 

This I took as a personal failure even though it was done to protect other children, because it was the only occasion that I had to resort to this most blunt of ‘controlling’ strategies.

• Mrs. Phillips, Chair of Governors - “Are all your ducks, swans ? Mr Brown?”

Tomas and Sam had their primary education at Great Wood. They had no issues or problems because their Dad was the Head. The occasional moan, that they were never favoured, in fact, just the opposite ! I loved being able to watch them grow on a day by day basis.

Like express trains - toddlers became teen-agers.

Happiest of friends, bitterest of, usually sport related, enemies. They played in the same, and in different bands - some of their various musics I appreciated, some ... I was just at a loss - on one of their discs Sam was responsible for ‘screaming vocals’!

We were, transport to gigs (all over the country) and a base for storing masses of gear and rehearsal rooms. Music making still goes on. 

There was a point 2004 or 2005, when I heard them comparing the costs of Christmas Presents. Needless to say we had always been scrupulously fair. I went quietly into ‘solve this now!’ mode. Family ‘talk’- one chose a book, the other a page, then a line, then a word, then a letter within the word - the result.

“From now on, you will receive four Christmas presents and you will give four presents. The total cost of presents should be modest and affordable. Each present will begin with the same letter, and this year the letter will be ‘F’.  We will use  that letter to theme any games we play.”

Stunned silence - then agreement. I heard Tomas explaining the new regime to a relative who responded with “... but there’s no ‘F’ in Christmas.”

Now celebrated in chocolate and hanging on the wall.

We continue this tradition to this day. This year’s letter is ‘U’.

They both went to a local High school in Cheadle, and then on to universities in Liverpool (Tom) and Manchester (Sam). Tom initially went into banking and pursued an interest in ‘Fraud Analysis’ and now works for ‘bet365’. Sam worked for and trained in e-commerce for ten years with ‘Regatta’ and now works as a Technical Lead in an award winning e-commerce agency.

During this period both Dad’s had died (Tomas Till 1908 - 1977), (Edwin Brown 1915 -1989). My Mum entered what we now know were the early stages of dementia. She needed support, living alone was not her strength. She came to live with us at Windy Arbour. We had had two outbuildings converted into self-catering accommodation now we converted a third into a ‘granny flat’. She never used it. She lived with us for 4 years, gradually becoming more and more mentally disoriented. She was supported by social services who took her out for an afternoon per week to give us respite. Eventually her mental world seemed to collapse into panic, fear and anxiety. Her dependency on us increased to a point where she required 24 hour care.

We were also supported by Social Services who explained that Hazel’s condition would only get worse and her life more fraught. She needed more care and calm than we could provide. We were advised to seek out a care home that we thought would fit her needs and personality. Peter and I visited five or six before settling on one near Uttoxeter race course called High Barrow. They suggested that she trialled a room for a couple of weeks while we went on holiday. The ‘couple of weeks’ became permanent residency, going with the flow rather than stopping, coming back to Windy Arbour, and then going back into care when needs arose.

This was a privately owned ‘home’. Any issues, and you dealt with the owner. We, and Hazel, were very happy with care and ‘quality of life’. It was only towards the end of Hazel’s life that the home was sold. It became  ‘managed’ and we felt that ‘the personal touch’ had gone and it had lost it’s personal feel, becoming more of an institution with ‘workers’ rather than a home with ‘caring friends’. Is it about

Gill, by now, is Assistant Head at her school. They would never let her leave. Blurton High is a tough school, but gradually, through hard work, dedication and thoughtful care for the children she became a well-respected senior teacher. Any issues and problems I may have had, simply paled into insignificance. when compared with hers. We tended not to talk ‘school’.

Simply, there is a huge gulf between Primary and Secondary education.

Different ‘worlds’.

....and the Government had decided that schools needed to be more formally inspected against a set of Nationally agreed levels. The National Curriculum was born. Great Wood had to subtly change it’s nature, ambiance and style if it was not to loose children/finance to neighbouring schools which were closer to the inspectors ideal model. 

We did, however, talk about re imagining our lives.

We had taken guests. There was Rafael, a french assistant, and Sammy, a Ghanaian Artist and storyteller. We offered them rooms and the option to live with us for a while at Windy Arbour. The house just expanded to let them ‘do their thing’, which included some almost legendary African cooking and getting inside information on the correct use of a machete when preparing coconuts, and trips to see bands I had never heard of - Todd Rundgren’s Utopia and the reason why the French don’t queue.

...and the ghost of an idea emerged.