School camps can be such an adventure

Years ago there was less of occupational health and safety demands on schools and whilst one might question the safety, there did not seem a focus or anxiety about taking a few risks when out and about with children. One such adventure was on a school camp at Portsea and what a wonderful place that was to feel a sense of freedom with the children on camp.

One such day, we were walking casually back from the beach. It had been a long day with extended walks, beach games and plenty of happy swimming in water possibly a little rough, but the children could all swim. We were confident to let them spontaneously dive in the water from time to time. Such a calm and steady day it seemed until we, the teachers turned the corner into the camp.

Suddenly we were bombarded with eggs. The children had situated themselves above where we walked and were pelting eggs all over us. The sticky uncomfortable feeling only seemed to ease for a second and then another pelting of eggs came. We were being rained upon by oozing, smelly eggs.

No surprise the children swiftly disappeared into various cracks in the camp. The shocked and wet teachers dripping with yellow egg went off to the shower and quickly retreated into their rooms.

The rest of the afternoon was very quiet and carried with it a sense of anticipated consequences. But nothing was said. It was like the calm before an immense storm that would shock the entire camp.

The teachers gathered just before dinner and discussions were held about how to respond to such an unanticipated attack. What kind of revenge could the staff carry out and still maintain their dignity. The afternoon moved into dinner time and still no statement from the teachers. Whispers abounded with the students that the consequences would be swift and perhaps involve their parents.

Thoughts were: ‘Are we having to tell our parents? Does this mean we lose our free time at school? After all, it was only eggs’. So many anxious thoughts were alive in the camp. But still, the teachers did nothing. The silence was deafening!

That night as the children retired to their room, all the teachers instructed the children to leave their sneakers outside the room to air. This would ensure they dried quicker in the warm air and would be more comfortable to wear in the morning. Certainly a sensible response to a wet beach day.

The children did what they were told and retired still feeling vulnerable and somewhat guilty now that their teachers seemed to be so understanding of their egg prank.

But the night moved on and morning came. Slowly the children opened their cabin door to find no shoes. They had all disappeared. How strange but soon all was revealed. The shoes had been tied to limbs of a tree. There they were dangling from their shoe laces and certainly not in pairs.

The teachers sat beneath the trees and smiling in a very contorted way instructed them to get their shoes. This was the payback! Unlacing knotted shoes tied to limbs of trees was now the price to be paid. Justice was being dealt out with cunning and a dash of humour. Sweet revenge!

It took at least two hours for the derangement to finish and the teachers ate their breakfast while watching the struggles and frustration of their students.

Not one word was spoken by the teachers after that and the children knew that they had suffered the fate of their teacher’s wrath.

What I should have mentioned is that those children were so bonded to their teachers. I have heard that years afterwards the students would tell the tale with such affection and admiration for their teachers who just knew how to play the game.

Some may say that it was too risky asking those children to climb the tree. I would say that we now live in a world where over protection has limited how and what is done in the classroom and beyond. A few adventures with our students leads to deeper and more enriching relationships. It brings the fun into what should be a learning experience with substance.

The wonders of drama and how it can play a huge role in a child’s life

One of my great passions is drama and it gave me great pleasure to be engaged with children through theatre and music. A little unusual some would say for a principal, but it enlivened my spirit when working with students and I felt so much more engaged in the life of the school.

One year we decided to challenge ourselves and perform The Pirates of Penzance. No easy feat in a primary school of 1100 with everyone playing a part, but I felt the children were up to the challenge and so too was their Principal! So away with the admin duties and on to the stage was my task. 

At that time, we had a boy with severe health impairments. I had been advised that he would not have an easy or perhaps a long life and that the school should be taking precautions to keep him away from infections etc. A tall order, but the staff were very aware of his needs and all precautions were taken.

The auditions began! I was of course there to listen and work with the staff who were so diligently working through the list of children for major roles. Then came the auditions for the Modern Major General. This was an exceptional role, which at the best of times we thought may not be within the grasp of a primary school child. After all, this was a Gilbert and Sullivan production. The language and speed of singing were of a very high standard.

 But there standing in front of me was Michael.

‘I am here to audition,’ he said ‘but I guess I don't qualify,’

Immediately my sense of justice in everyone having a go, no matter how disabled, rang out loud and clear. I first thought what if Michael failed, how would he cope with such a situation? He was after all he was a very sick young man. How does such a child deal with failure and disappointment? I looked at the stage. He had left. A moment of silence and then I swiftly ran to the corridor. “Michael where are you going? Aren't you here for an audition?”

He smiled the smile of someone who just knew so much about life but still came along for the ride.

“The Modern Major General,” I said “is a demanding role that requires quick speech and strong skills in language.”

‘Like this you mean,’ he quickly retorted. He began to recite the verses that were part of the verses sung and spoken by the Modern Major General.

‘I’ve been practicing’ he said ‘but I know I’m weak.’

Well, I don’t know what constituted weakness in his eyes, but his acting and dramatic presentation made me quiver with excitement and fear of whether this would do him immense harm. What was I to do? He was perfect for the role. He was a boy whose sensitivity to the environment, stress and excessive fatigue could be his ultimate demise. Was I to put my interests ahead of his health?

I spoke to his mother that night. Perhaps she was the right person to put things into perspective for him.

 ‘Well,’ she said, ‘he has been rehearsing all the lines for days. His passion and the smile on his face was enough for me. He tires easily but tells me it is a happy tiredness.’

There was no going back, Michael was our Modern Major General.

After several months of rehearsal, Michael performed above and beyond all expectations. His joy in being in the role was evident, and he made such a strong connection to the remaining cast who saw the true Michael and loved what they saw.

Micahel died two years later. My Modern Major General had finished his time on earth. Everyone remembered him for his passion and skill for acting. Who would have known? Who would have thought? A little boy with compromised health and short life expectancy found joy and a talent beyond everyone’s expectations.

I often think about Michael. He taught me that passion and endurance can override such pain and sorrow.