A Happy Memory

Last week I was reminded three times of my previous school: I have lived in seven different places, all beginning with B (although I have to cheat a little with Oxford and use the street name!). In any case, this was in Bristol, where I spent four very happy years. During my time there, I met many interesting people and taught a lot of amazing classes. In the school where I worked, the departmental policy was to change teacher after a maximum of two years, but, at the mid-point of my time, one group of students said they had built their confidence and didn’t want a change of teacher. Even after I explained that it was not possible to have them any longer, they started a petition and went to the head of department to seek a change in policy. Despite repeatedly being told that this would not happen, they persevered and made such a fuss that they actually got their way in the end! An exasperated head of department came and asked if I wouldn’t mind teaching them for another two years: having had to remain professional throughout and not get involved in the departmental procedure, I admitted that I was delighted at the outcome! I knew that they would have felt like this whatever teacher they had started with, but was pleased that it was me they had got used to!

 

Throughout the four years, it was amazing watching them growing in mathematical aptitude, confidence and enthusiasm: although good at Maths on an absolute scale, they were the bottom set in that academic environment, but they cared more about the day-to-day environment: we had all sorts of adventures in linking Maths to sport, art, drama, games, music, and even to pizza for a special study day in the holidays before the exams, where I promoted them all to professors of one particular topic! From the classes, I vividly remember questions like: “If we get all our work done, can Mike and Ella sing?”; “Will you come and see us in the play?”; and “Can Joe play the guitar for our last lesson?”

 

My leaving assembly in the Great Hall (pictured above) turned out to be during their study leave and one of the Italian chaps paid me a great compliment, that I only understood fully from my time in Italy: “Sir, on my day off, I drove all the way in to your assembly on my moped and got my new clothes wet in the rain!” The fading trauma on his face from getting rain on his clothes and spoiling his appearance (an important factor for many Italians) had only been overcome by his determination to get there!

 

When it was time for me to move to London, I left an annual prize for the student in the bottom set, who had showed great dedication, perseverance and achievement: “The Dr Richard Baxter Award for Endeavor in Mathematics.” On its first day of being awarded (in the Great Hall again!), I sat keenly on the edge of my seat to watch one of my pupils receive his award, but, amusingly, my enthusiasm was not shared by the staff member beside me, who sat stoney-faced throughout! (That taught me the value of sharing in the joy of others!)

 

I sometimes wonder how my students are getting on and what they are up to. Over the years, I have learnt to accept that, whether they come back to say hello or not, it is more important that they are following the right path. I may wonder what they’re up to, but God knows, and he has got them in his care. As I tell my present students at Paul’s Pizza, God has great plans for each one of us, and it is most encouraging to remember this.

 

““For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.””

Jeremiah 29:11