One of the amazing aspects of Kearsney is the Old Boys Club. Over the past year I have attended and addressed Old Boy dinners and functions in Wellington (New Zealand), Sydney (Australia), London, Mbabane, Malelane, Pretoria, Johannesburg, Winterton, Kokstad, Port Elizabeth, Ramsgate, Umtunzini and Cape Town. I have come to appreciate that there is something very earthy and genuine about a Kearsney Old Boy. They have the capacity to, “Walk with Kings yet keep the common touch”. They are extremely loyal without the overbearing competitiveness to “win at all costs”. They are proud of their old School and talk more of the “Kearsney experience” than winning or losing. Extremely refreshing and affable, I find it interesting beyond description to wax profundity and mix it with them, young and old. This weekend was no exception. Chairman Patrick Russell, Secretary Grant Litster, Mark Ward and Titch Geldhart provided us with a tonic of a weekend.

Back at home on Sunday evening I prepare for the start-of-term staff meetings. Relevant information is gathered with phone calls to various people to confirm accuracy. Humour and light-heartedness is a key aspect of these meetings and I gather ammunition to use the next day. A quick walk across to Gillingham House reveals that the new heat pumps, commissioned to once-and-for-all sort out the hot water problems experienced since World War II, will not be completed for the start of the third term. I sigh but have come to expect that most capital projects are seldom completed on schedule. The other two projects seem to be on schedule which is a relief.

Monday 20 July

The bedside alarm rings at 6am. It is dark and chilly outside but cloudless. The bird life at Kearsney is quite prolific. The Spotted Eagle Owls had been softly hooting with the occasional shriek alarm call during the night. This morning the Robins, Thrushes, Hadedas and a distant Hoopoe are already up.

This is the day before classes start for the boys. Boarders will be returning to their Houses this evening to begin the third term tomorrow.  Staff arrive today to complete and co-ordinate preparations for the new term. My responsibilities will chiefly be to chair a series of meetings, setting the tone and direction for the term.

The first meeting kicks off at 7:30am – not too bad since I have been thrashing the water in Swaziland a lot earlier for the past two days. This is the College’s Executive which meets weekly, usually starting off with banter and chirping where members have done extraordinary things in the preceding week. Some have nick names, others are still earning them. There is the Ibis, Phakamani and PK. Holiday stories are cut short as we have much to cover in a short time. This group has a great work ethic and a special esprit de corps. The meeting concludes with 5 minutes for coffee before the Full Management of the College meet.

This group represents every division of the College; Finance, Marketing, Foundation, Sport, Clubs and Culture, Community Service, Music, Academics, Houses, Student Affairs, Middle School, Discipline and Chaplaincy. It is the diverse range of opinions and schools of thought they represent that I find so enriching in decision making. Most decisions involve robust debate, intellectual input and contrary views expressed with the good of the College at heart – I believe leaders should, if possible, surround themselves with experts in their fields who are not afraid to voice their opinions. Innovation at the College has come from capitalising on the synergy of the staff. Not much time is spent on strategic decisions at this specific meeting as our objective is to have a smooth start to the third term.

Chairing the staff meeting an hour later is something I really enjoy.This is a group largely made up of academics and other professionals who have been university trained and have a wealth of hard earned experience behind them. They are intelligent, critical thinkers. They enjoy subtle nuances and clever play on words. Jocular banter is part and parcel of this meeting. Our Master in charge of soccer who, it is commented on (to an appreciative audience), looks strikingly like Kaizer Chiefs coach Vladimir Vermezovic, responds to this observation by complimenting another teacher for being an outstanding manager of a junior soccer side, “despite not being able to bend it like Beckham”, he notes. One has to be very sharp chairing this meeting but I always try to ensure that there is laughter somewhere in the proceedings. Unfortunately a junior member of staff inevitably gets a chirp for being out too late the night before or for picking up a red card at a waterpolo or hockey match. Mr Peacock was once observed on an exercise bike in the SportsZone and was presented with a yellow jersey in the meeting  the next day. Mr Kirsten, who once forgot the words of the Lord’s Prayer when leading a full school assembly was presented with a laminated copy for future reference. Naturally there are serious issues which are raised and discussed from time to time.

The staff meeting finishes in time for everyone to have a cup of tea and coffee and to chat about the holidays. Many have adventurous stories to tell and there is a buzz of conversation before the academic staff adjourn to their subject meetings. I move upstairs to my office where a mound of admin awaits my attention. Much of the electronic and hard copy correspondence involves compliancy and educational policy issues. One e mail grabs my attention. An Old Boy, Dr Glen Hagemann has started a “Schools of Excellence Programme” which seeks to support schools in their attempts to educate their students on all sorts of societal issues. Their approach is very good and my experience working with him on other programmes has been great. The next hour is devoted to contacting other Heads in the province to see if we can tackle this as a group of schools. Once this has been dealt with I return to writing e mails, a letter of condolence, and personalised letters  to each new member of staff we will be welcoming in 2010. I will also be making an effort to write a letter of encouragement or commendation to at least one person every week. I write to the Madsen brothers, Lloyd who has played his 16^th hockey match for the South African National side in the victorious Africa Cup tournament and his brother Wayne who is playing County cricket for Derbyshire and scored a record breaking 170 runs on debut.

The remainder of the afternoon is spent preparing my address to the boys at Chapel tomorrow morning. We will focus on the miracles Christ performed and our responsibility to work hard at whatever we attempt. The talk will be liberally sprinkled with anecdotes and relevant examples. On the way home I come across what must be the first boarder back. He greets me and we get into a conversation about soccer. He is looking forward to the forthcoming season and is on his way to dribble around on the fields.

Once at home I persuade my wife Tracey that we should get to the SportZone and spend some quality time running on the treadmills. She agrees and whilst the settings of the two treadmills demand different running speeds from us we are able to talk about our day. Our twin daughters are at University in Pretoria and Tracey shares the news from up country. I query her on plans we have to refurbish some accommodation on the Kearsney campus for new staff and after supper we pore over sketches and diagrams, referring to magazines, throwing ideas around. She is very creative and I love the clever ideas she has for using limited space in a modern and fresh way.I can see through the kitchen window that the lights of Gillingham House are all on, reminding me that the boys are back and the term is about to begin in earnest.

Tuesday 21 July

The boarders returned to their Houses last night bringing to an end the serene silence of the holiday evenings.  This morning, dayboy parents will be dropping their boys off at various stop-offs on campus but as I take the 200 metre walk from home to office the estate is quiet save for the melodious call of a nervous Cape Robin in the Gillingham garden.

A boy who was in a little trouble last year and who is seeing me fortnightly to discuss life, attitudes, motivation and toeing the line is on his way back to his House. We chat casually about the holiday and the term ahead. He greets me and we go our separate ways. Entering my office the routine is habitual – lights on, plug in network cable and power and log in.

While this is taking place, the windows are opened (I avoid the use of air con as far as possible) to allow fresh cool air in. I request a staff member to open up the Chapel and add the final touches to my address to the school in a few minutes.

Downstairs it is 7:20am and time for the morning staff meeting. Information for the day is passed on to staff after which all the men scramble for their jackets which have been dormant for three weeks over the holidays. I dart towards the Chapel where the boys are seated in silence. Before entering I hear a muffled call and the organist catches up to me with the numbers of the hymns we will be singing. In the absence of a Chaplain this year we usually have visiting preachers taking Tuesday services but as it is the start of the new term I combine a Scriptural devotion with a motivational message and announcements for the forthcoming term. There are also boys to congratulate on prestigious national selections and news of Old Boys who have achieved at senior sporting level. We sing the school hymn, “There is a Light upon the Mountain” which the boys always sing with audible passion. The offering taken goes towards the Ethelbert Children’s Home in Durban. The daily announcements conclude with a few tips to avoid the spread of flu with reference to the global outbreak of swine flu. “Be careful of close contact with someone displaying flu symptoms – I think this applies to your weekend activities” I advise. The innuendo flies right over most boys’ heads but then again it’s before 8am on their first day back at school.

Directly after Chapel the boys report to their staff tutors who welcome them back to school. There is much shaking of hands and enquiring how the holidays were. The atmosphere is relaxed and convivial. Some boys are congratulated by their tutors on achievements over the holidays.  One Zimbabwean  who  parked his friend’s father’s car above a cliff near Kariba only to return to find it wrecked at the bottom of the slope is reminded to use the hand brake next time. He smiles sheepishly while his friends enjoy the chirp.

Back in the office the Bursar is waiting for our weekly meeting.  We discuss priorities for the term, compliancy issues and how various situations should be handled. I find the business part of running a school interesting and stimulating. It was new to me a few years ago and although I am still learning I enjoy the challenges involved. I couldn’t be an accountant though – I prefer dealing with people.

Over the next hour a number of staff pop in to the office asking advice, permission or for ideas. They don’t spend much time as we quickly get to the point and come to decisions. Phone calls come through from outside bodies and schools mostly relating to meetings planned for the third term.  I get down to writing a reply to a young boy from George from whom I received the most heart wrenching letter with an appeal from him to come to Kearsney. I am so touched by the six page plea from someone who in 15 years has gone through more than most people three times his age, that I take the time to write him a lengthy response with some (hopefully) helpful advice. I gaze out my office window and ponder just how much suffering there is in the world and hope that when my letter reaches him he may be inspired to make something of his life.

It is tea time which means sandwiches in the staff room and an opportunity to meet and chat to staff. This morning I choose to sit in the “Cultural corner” which means we won’t discuss the likely result of the Ashes series nor the composition of the All Black rugby side.  Nevertheless we cover our holiday destinations and the concert on the Beach at Salt Rock during the Mr Price surfing competition which some of us attended incognito.
 

After break I have opportunity to take a walk through the classroom block. It is amazing how much can be achieved by simply walking around, chatting to staff and sometimes bumping into boys who shouldn’t be where they are. I pass a junior science class working with batteries and globes trying to get them work in series. I am delighted (if you’ll excuse the pun) that the Science labs are used to full effect. Much hard work went into their renovation two years ago and they are superb facilities.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Down in the Music block I come across the newly appointed Music Performance Director who is wearing the most outrageously striking lime green tie this morning.  He takes me around the recently refurbished Auditorium and we discuss some plans he has for the music classrooms, performance rooms, the Auditorium, the Hall, the forthcoming Upbeat Festival, a possible overseas choir tour and I can’t remember what else. I love the enthusiasm and passion.

 

After a quick lunch back at home I meet with the Facilities Manager. He updates me on all the holiday projects and we look at priorities for the term ahead. Preparation of pitches and fields takes priority as does the rehabilitation of our main rugby field, the Stott. Once he has left I am happy to assist a couple of people who have come for advice and then I start putting the weekly e mail to parents together which must be sent out tomorrow. A large part of my job is communicating, whether it be in meetings, assemblies, by e mail, newsletters, telephone or by letters. It is important to get the tone right and the appropriate message across. I spend much time in thought trying to craft appropriate communication.

 

Manfred Rohwer addresses the golfers

Later this afternoon I make my way down to the Kloof Golf Club where  a fund raising golf day is coming to a close.  This one is unique in that it has been organised in memory of a young Old Boy, Stefan Rohwer who was tragically killed in a motor accident earlier in the year.  His parents, Manfred and Sue have set up a Bursary fund in Stef’s memory to allow boys to access a Kearsney education who may otherwise not be able to afford one.  They have a full field of golfers and an auction follows the prize giving. 

 

Manfred asks me to say a few words to those present and I take the opportunity of announcing that their other son, young Martin who is at Kearsney has just won the KwaZulu Natal High Schools Golf Championships.  Unfortunately I must leave the function early to attend another engagement at Highbury.

  

 

 

Mr Paddy Collins with the four Kearsney Boys and two Highbury boys (front left)

 I am late for the meeting at Highbury but it’s not too serious. I will be joining a group of parents who will support their sons and Highbury teacher Paddy Collins on a 180km run from Hluhluwe to Kosi Bay in the north of the province, all in the name of charity.

 

Four Kearsney boys and three Highbury boys will run in relays of 10km each whilst Paddy completes the 180km in under 24 hours. The run takes place this weekend and I will be joining them to support, run or do whatever is required. It seems like a great idea to be involved.

 

Back at Kearsney it is now past 8pm and I pop into the Hall where my wife Tracey is training boys and girls in choreographed dance routines for the College’s Annual Musical to take place in three weeks.

 

There is a buzz of activity and between some couples enough electricity to power the school in a national load shed. I take a few pics and retreat home for supper. (Never get involved in things you don’t understand!)

 

Wednesday 22 July

The morning staff meeting takes longer than anticipated as there are more announcements than usual. The knock-effect is that the tutorship period is cut short. I regret this as the early morning sessions with my group of twelve boys spanning Grade 8 to 12 is an interesting collection of very different characters.  There is the odd academic, some very talented   sportsmen, quite a few really “good O’s” as the boys would say and three superb new boys.  There is barely time to greet the boys, hand out diaries and collect return slips before the bell rings for the start of the first period.

I return to my office with a cup of steaming coffee waiting to be consumed. My weekly meeting with the Marketing Director deals with enrolments and admissions, the annual Chronicle school magazine that she has just produced, branding and related issues. We discuss the forthcoming SWOT analysis on the work of the department and the composition of the group that will assist us.

My secretary drops off a pile of letters to sign. These are to all those Old Boys who kindly made donations to the College over the recent Founders Weekend. It is an absolute delight to read each one and pen my signature to them for these are the people who make things possible at the College. The donations, regardless of the amount are seen as votes of confidence these Old Boys have in their old school. I am so grateful for each and every gift that comes into the College and we are careful to acknowledge each one. Next up are minutes of various meetings which I must read. It is helpful to read these as one obtains good insights in the grassroots business of the College. A few points attract my attention and I follow up where necessary.During the course of the day I meet with three sets of parents who have requested help, advice or assistance of one form or another. There is a healthy mutual trust and professional respect and in all three cases we shake hands and agree on a common course of action.

 

Just before lunch I have an appointment with two young men who are teachers from the UK, out here on holiday and keen to find out more about Kearsney. What makes it fascinating is that one of them was a pupil at my former school for only six months before the family emigrated. He however remembered me and made a point of looking me up at Kearsney – I am honoured.  We discuss the education systems in both countries and various issues before I take them around for a tour of the College. I am so encouraged to see such decent, motivated and thoroughly good young men in the teaching profession.

 

The Housemasters meeting is held over lunch and in arriving late one runs the risk of only picking at the scraps. Roast chicken, rice, carrots coleslaw and a tasty sauce are well-received. Mr “Golden Eye” Goldhawk chairs the meeting which runs through a standard agenda. If the boys thought there was rivalry between themselves at Inter House level they would be fascinated how loyal these men are to their Houses and their boys. There is the usual chirp when Mr Delport requests that Gillingham should have the same facility as Finningley. Mr Morgan responds that Gillingham always wants to be like Finningley. Weekend exeat arrangements are standardised and agreed upon. (I once visited Wanganui Collegiate in New Zealand and, whilst waiting to see the Deputy Headmaster, marked time by reading the Housemasters’ Meeting minutes pinned to a noticeboard. The title of the school on the top of the minutes could just as well have read “Kearsney College”. Manners in the Dining Halls, cups left outside, problems with exeat slips, parents requesting to take their children out early at the end of the term, burned toast, they were all similar issues being dealt with). We have highly competent Housemasters at Kearsney who frequently work long and tiring hours. If the Houses run well, the school runs well.

My secretary, Penny Needham reminds me of a number of phone calls to make before 5pm. These are attended to and the last of the day’s mail is read and channelled in the right direction.

 

On the way home I pop in to the Sanatorium to check whether the usual winter flu is taking its toll. It seems that boys with flu symptoms have been wisely kept at home by their parents and there is only one boy receiving attention for a cut toe. It looks like he should pull through and I stroll across the road to my home.

 

After supper I make my way to the Henderson Hall where the College’s top movers and groovers are rehearsing their “Good vibrations” dance routine for the forthcoming school annual production. Exaggerated gyrations are perfectly timed with natural rhythm - the sequence of moves is hilarious. Over and over they practise, determined to produce a flawless display in three weeks time.

Meanwhile it is prep in the Houses, the roadsare deserted, the stage coach lamps lamps shine theirwhite light along the tree lined avenues. This is as close to old fashioned village life you will get anywhere near Durban. The Chapel glows in a soft orange light and the plain trees, bare of leaves, cast a striking,spiky silhouette against the night sky. Kearsney will soon be ready to sleep. 

Thursday 23 July

A cold front is approaching and a light mist is evident on the Hill as first light arrives. I have woken a little earlier to water a collection of herbs I have been growing. There is something therapeutic and rewarding in planting seeds and watching the growth of a plant, nurturing the seedlings and then using the leaves for flavouring when the plant is ready. Wild bird seed is spread on the bird table and Titan our Yorkie is woken and fed. The brightly coloured Sun Conia (who was literally blown into our home in a fierce storm years ago) is wheeled out in his cage, fed and watered. The air is distinctly cooler and one can sense the atmosphere is becoming restless.

After the staff meeting more time is available for Tutorship of our groups. On the way to the library I come across the customary group of Sixth Formers all huddled in a talk shop group regaling each other with the latest news. I wave my arm (as usual) as they are supposed to be in their Tutor groups already and they disperse  accordingly.   

 

My Tutor group is gathered for a photograph, senior boys in front and lesser mortals like myself in the back row. (I have to admit that the senior boys did invite me to sit with them. We do a variety of things in these early morning sessions. The boys have arm wrestled to determine the Tutor Group champion. They have played “60 seconds” and done remarkably well. We once tried to hear the funniest joke but that went a bit pear shaped – I must confess I had a good laugh though.  We have discussed topics ranging from “Your future wife will not be too different from your mother” to sport and health issues.  This morning they receive information pertaining to the school day, I check their shoes and top buttons and they are off to Period 1.

Back at office my caffeine shot is waiting. I must read and sign a number of letters acknowledging the sponsors of the Easter Rugby Festival. The letters contain promo material and a summary of the exposure they received. The weekly meeting with the Foundation Director follows. We discuss Old Boy contacts and activities as well as matters surrounding the sourcing of bursary and scholarship funding.

My start-of-third-term pep talk to all the Sixth Formers takes place in the Auditorium. These sessions, when advice is given and the future is discussed are probably the best moments in any day. Being a principal can remove one from the coal face and I really miss the classroom (although piles of marking have never turned me on). Naturally, once given the floor I get carried away with anecdotes, a few chirps and amateur philosophy. The aim is to set the tone and direction for not only the weeks leading up to the boys’ Trial examinations in a few weeks but for life in general. The theme is how important the last 10 minutes are in any game. The Loftus Test match against the British and Irish Lions when the Boks assured a victory, the last days of the Tour de France and the last 10 minutes of the Kearsney 1st XV match against Maritzburg College this year when we snatched the lead and then tenaciously hung on to record a victory. If it wasn’t for the team’s never-say-die attitude in those last few minutes, that historic win would not have happened. The point of the talk is that the boys should adopt a similar attitude to their studies in these “last ten minutes” so to speak.

Mr Rod de Villiers picks me up from my home soon after lunch and, together with an old Kearsney personality, John Taylor we set off for Hluhluwe where we are to purchase a cluster of hamburgers for the runners whom we should catch up to roughly forty kilometres further down the road on the way to Kosi Bay. The three of us have been on many Drakensberg hikes, Mountain Bike odysseys and other adventures. We know each other well and there is no shortage of banter, chirping and ragging. Darkness creeps in over northern Zululand and we are on the lookout for the runners. Rounding a corner we come upon Paddy Collins and his co-runner Shaun Eigenmann. The rest of the boys who have already completed their stints are in the back of the VW under blankets and duvets. It is very cold (uncharacteristically cold for Maputaland) and the wind is howling on our backs. The huge Steers burgers and chips are attacked and finished off in no time. Seconding the runners as we approach midnight is a challenge. We open the windows of the vehicle and turn up Barry Thompson singing Rodriguez. Paddy smiles and waves, his younger partner frowns and wonders what music this is. Next up is a bit of Reggae – Don’t worry, be happy! Oncoming traffic is few and far between and surprisingly careful in passing the runners. Paddy just shuffles on He has already completed the equivalent of a Comrades Marathon and he looks like he’s just run around the block.


Friday 24 July

Midnight has come and gone and the running continues through the small hours of the morning. I can feel the eyelids wanting to close, yet the conversation in the vehicle and with the runners continues unabated.

Unexpectedly I’m called on to take the next running shift and I quickly change, pulling on a reflective shirt and clipping on flashing lights. I look like I’m about to join the cast of “Stomp the Yard” except I’m not nearly as supple.

Paddy and I run shoulder to shoulder under a black sky with the wind howling around us. Above us the Southern Cross is bright and the African sky is at its most splendid. There are veld fires on our right, and left, and in the distance. The smell of burning grass and bush is unique. I think it was Jane Goodall who said, “There is always a fire burning in Africa”. We are between Mbazwane and Mseleni with Lake Sibaya to our right. The road undulates gently and we  regale each other with stories of foreign travel to interesting places.

Shortly before sunrise all the runners join Paddy to walk on the road to Manguzi. Ilala Palms line the road and early morning taxis race each other, jockeying for their share of the narrow road. The conversation amongst all of us is jovial with all of us very up beat. There is still a distance of roughly 50 kilometers to go but at no stage has Paddy or any boy looked like throwing in the towel. We take the right turn to Kosi Bay and the tar soon breaks up leaving a hard dust road which, in turn degenerates into thick white beach sand where 4x4s are happy and sedans don’t venture. The going gets tough, the afternoon gets hotter but the desire to finish gets stronger. Later in the afternoon Paddy, the boys, a number of parents and Highbury Headmaster Richard Stanley approach the finish literally on the banks of the Ku Hlange Lake at Bhanga Nek, 182km from the starting point at Hluhluwe. Cheers go up and congratulations are offered all round. They have completed an epic journey and raised R75 000 for the following charities: Focus on iThemba, Kwathintwa School for the Deaf, Ndlokolo Primary School and the Bhanga Nek community.

 

That evening we all sit around a raging camp fire. Thick, juicy rump steaks are sizzling on the grid. We share stories of the epic “Great Maputaland Run” and soon we are too exhausted to stay awake. I receive news that the Bulls have lost to the Sharks from one of my gloating friends back home. I reply that the Currie Cup was never won in July or May or whenever and besides it’s the Bulls “B” Team as the “A” Team is due to play in Springbok jerseys the following day against the All Blacks in Bloemfontein. There is no energy or thought of reflecting on the day. I make it to my sleeping bag in a reed hut and fall fast asleep.

 

23:30 I awake suddenly at a nagapie’s screech right next to my ear and within a minute I am back in dreamland again.

 

Saturday 25 July

 

The camp at Kosi Bay takes time to wake up. A willing father lights up the gas cookers and starts frying the bacon and preparing the scrambled eggs.
Mr de Villiers is designated as the toast maker on the open fire. Slowly, people converge on the boma, some from the beach and others from the huts. We enjoy a tasty breakfast with beautiful weather in idyllic surroundings. The group finalises transport arrangements back to Durban, cars are packed and farewells said.

 

The three Kearsney staff nip up the road to Bhanga Nek and take a walk along the beach. It is a pristine coastline and the setting for Loggerhead Turtle breeding. We talk about our beautiful country and how many rich opportunities there are to enjoy the natural beauty that is so accessible to many of us.
I recall a comment made by one of the young teachers from the UK who visited Kearsney earlier in the week. He had emigrated from South Africa many years ago and, upon landing in Johannesburg 10 days ago he recalled that the first sensation that hit him was the smell of Africa and that was when he knew it was great to be back.