In “Walking with Gosse” [1], I describe how I became a
professional biologist and natural historian, a path that was defined when I
was young. It was my good fortune to be brought up in Torbay, and the coast
(see above), and surrounding countryside, were my main sources of inspiration.
That, and the freedom to learn provided by Oldway Primary School.
In an earlier post on nicknames for schoolmasters [2], I
mentioned my time at Torquay Boys’ Grammar School and how serious my education
then became. Syllabuses required certain things to be taught and, of course, I
went along with it, never questioning the value of what I learned, and I did
manage to pass most examinations (except in Biology [1]), if that was the point
of syllabuses. Of course, I recognise that one has to have building blocks for
understanding various subjects, but that need not make subjects dull.
Here are some descriptions of my secondary education, given
by subject:
English
In the first year, English centred on grammar and we were all
issued with Ridout’s “English Today” (see above) – not new, but hand-me-downs
from previous year groups. Mr Locker, a really pleasant master, took us through
exercises and we learned about the structure of language as well as writing essays,
learning about precis, and other skills. As we progressed through the school,
there were more advanced editions of “English Today” and I can’t remember any
of the masters who taught me, until Mr Kay in my fourth year (I had jumped a year earlier in my school career). He made a great
impression on me, as he showed an interest in us; recommending novels that we
might read and explaining a bit about them. I don’t know whether it was part of
any syllabus, but Mr Kay also introduced us to the derivation of place names
and that sent me scurrying to the Public Library to find out more. I was
fascinated, probably because here was something in my formal education that I
could relate to the world outside school, something that novels did too. It
wasn’t just the derivation of place names either – we talked about many words
and I remember well the following:
Mr Kay (to the class): “The name pancreas
has its origin in Ancient Greek, while the insulin it produces is a word
derived from Latin.”
“I bet that no-one knows where
insulin is actually produced.”
RSW (raising his hand – the only response
to the question in the class): “The Islets of Langerhans, Sir.”
I should have taken him up on the bet.
Latin
I only took one year of Latin – with Mr Allen, who had a
habit of referring to each student as his “favourite pupil” (and there were
many other eccentricities of behaviour, like shooting at us with an imaginary
gun…). Our set book was Kennedy’s “Shorter Latin Primer” (see above) which was,
like Ridout’s book, a hand-me-down. The cover of mine had been altered to read “The
Shortbread Eating Primer” and there were numerous small drawings of male and
female genitalia throughout its pages, contributed by previous generations of temporary
owners.
There were many illustrations and exercises in the book and,
after Mr Allen had the class reciting declensions (“mensa, mensa, mensam,
mensae, mensae, mensas” etc.), we did translations of sentences like “the
soldiers fought the sailors with arrows and spears, while wearing their best
togas.” We were not introduced to classical literature, or the philosophy of
the ancient world, something which I discovered at University. In the second year
of secondary school we were maybe too young for that, but it does provide a
valuable setting for learning the language. For us, Latin was significant as it
was essential for Oxbridge entry at the time, and there was little that was
more important than that.
French
Learning a language was new to me and the masters who attempted
to get me fluent were Mr Haskins (formal and large), Mr Johnson (who was a
lovely man), Mr Joslin (who was terrifying) and Mr Haskins again. I tried hard,
and was able to master some translation work, but speaking the language was a
challenge. Perhaps that is not surprising, as I rarely ventured outside Devonshire
and didn’t make my first trip to continental Europe until I was 22-years old. Not
atypical insularity for the early 1960s.
Art
Mr Roper taught us art and I remember that we were
introduced to charcoal and had to draw various objects. It wasn’t for me and it
is a mystery how I developed such a strong interest in Art History – again, it
was something that started once I had escaped to University. If Mr Roper had
been told that I was to end up giving lunchtime talks, and lectures, at the
National Gallery in London, he may well have fainted.
History and Geography
History was taught by Mr Kneebone and I can remember very
little about it as I elected to drop the subject in favour of Geography (something
we were allowed to do, as our choices were dictated by what we were to take at
O-level). The masters who taught me were Mr Dutton (who seemed very old and
used to spend a lot of time stroking his shiny bald head), Mr Gillham (who was
young and very enthusiastic) and Mr Coon (who was a bit intimidating). While I found
learning about other countries very interesting, it all seemed remote, as I led such
a South-Devon-based life [1]. It was physical geography that I loved and
learning about maps. I spent many hours at home working out profiles from contours
on Ordnance Survey maps, drawing cross-sections of several places I knew.
Again, it was the relation of school learning to the outside world that fired
my interest.
Mathematics
Mr Titchener taught us mathematics in the first year and we
then had Mr Horrell, Mr Roberts and Mr Cowler in other years. I had always
enjoyed arithmetic at Oldway Primary School and now I learned about algebra, trigonometry and geometry,
all fascinating in their own right, and ideal for quizzes. We had to solve
equations and provide proofs in geometry (always ending QED). There was little attempt to show the application of mathematics, or to explain how much of the way
we view the world is dependent on mathematics. That was something that I discovered
for myself later and, no doubt, that was not part of the O-level syllabus. Everything
must be governed by a syllabus.
Physics and Chemistry
Physics was taught by Mr Thorpe (a genuinely nice man) and
Mr Evans (who was less friendly, but who drove an MG Midget sports car, so
claimed bonus points). I learned about electricity and magnetism, moments of
inertia, Boyle’s law, Fleming’s left-hand rule, and all sorts of other things
that a physicist should know. It was all learned but my problem was that I didn’t
understand what it was all about.
It was the same in Chemistry. Mr Roberts taught us in the
first year and our first task was to learn the mantra “Acid + Base = Salt +
Water”. There followed lots more rote learning, some interesting experiments
with magnesium ribbon, and we progressed, under the teaching of Mr Crabtreee,
to learn more about organic, inorganic, and physical chemistry. I took A-level Chemistry
and I suffered. Mr Crabtree was one of only two masters at the school who
bullied me and I remember one typical session of teaching when he hit me on the
head (gently) saying “Valency, Wotton, Valency! It’s all in the text book (the latter word pronounced
to rhyme with puke).” I just didn’t understand the dimensions of chemistry and
what was happening to molecules, atoms, electrons and all the rest of it. I
learned it, of course, but didn’t “get it”. I still don’t.
Biology
Biology was the subject that I really enjoyed and we were taught
by Mr Clark (who was a lovely man) and by Mr Hood. I have given a full
description elsewhere [1] of how we shared teaching in Biology with South Devon
Technical College, with Mr Hood taking the Botany class and Mr Cosway (of the
Tech.) taking Zoology. This was a very different world to that of TBGS and I
enjoyed the freedom and the chance to play truant and collect from the shore
and make observations on the animals and plants found there.
Music
Taught throughout by Mr John Burman Hopwood, who was a real
enthusiast, music classes were not for examinations but for various performances.
We were tested for membership of the school choir by each having to sing “Early
one morning, just as the sun was rising, I heard a maiden singing in the valley
below….” When it came to my turn ("W" being late in the alphabet), I was so
nervous that I could only manage the first line before bursting into tears (the
only boy to do so). Still, I showed enough promise in that brief showing to get into the choir and I really enjoyed being part of that; going to local
festivals and taking part in concerts in the school hall. It was impossible not
to like Mr Hopwood and he had the distinction of being the only master who gave
me a whacking with a gym shoe, after a bunch of us were caught in a classroom
instead of being in the playground.
PE and Games
We had a number of masters for these physical activities and
I remarked on Games in my earlier post [2]. PE involved exercises like vaulting,
walking on a balance beam, and climbing ropes and wall bars. There were also
pull-ups and press-ups and all sorts of other things to try the patience. The senior
PE master was Mr Stokes and he invariably wore a black blazer with the CCPE
logo on it (the Discobolus of Myron – a missed chance to talk about classical
sculpture). He liked to walk with his chest puffed out and he was not especially
likeable, although he was much more human when teaching RE. He was kind enough
to compliment me on a presentation that I gave on the Mennonites.
The worst PE master from my point of view was Mr Morrall,
who enjoyed his role and liked to do a bit of humiliating. In one PE lesson we played a game where a pair of us had to chase around the gym (in the
Tech. College) and tag as many of the others in the class as we could. For his
amusement, Mr Morrall paired me with Neil Collings (who sadly died in 2010).
Neil was known to us all as “The Bishop”, as he was a devout churchman and went
on to have a distinguished career in the Church of England. Neil was not an
athlete, but we did manage to catch a few of our fellow students. It was clearly
all very entertaining to Mr Morrall.
All this happened many years ago and the school I knew is no
longer there (an image of the old school main building is shown above). So, do
I look back on my school years as being the best of my life? Decidedly not.
While there were some inspirational masters, a lot of the subject material was
dull and we would have been better served if there was no syllabus and no
examinations. That’s never going to happen though, and I am so grateful that I
had the natural world all around me to provide a source of meaning to it all. I
believe in the Liberal Arts and Sciences approach and hope that secondary education
heads in that direction one day – maybe at Torquay Boys’ Grammar School?
[1] Roger S Wotton (2020) Walking with Gosse. e-book
(available widely!).
[2] https://rwotton.blogspot.com/2020/10/nicknames-for-schoolmasters.html
