Author:
Tim Trent Cr 65-70
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Date Posted: 07:14:29 04/11/01 Wed
The passage of time does not mean that lessons are learned.
I have watched Epsom College since I left in December 1970. I have watched it pass through the care of a variety of headmasters, and I have seen changes that pleased me, and changes that perturbed me. But the changes that perturb me the most are those where no lessons are learned from the past.
Before I deal with that subject, I have a question. It is the same question that I posed to the a senior common room member at the last OE Dinner. The question is a simple one. “What are the brand values of Epsom College?” Wisely he deferred his answer until the current headmaster had his feet under the table. But when pressed on educational standards he conceded that Epsom College is not the school of choice for the parents of the brightest children, and that those of exceptional brilliance might find the academic standards expected to be limiting. Indeed they are likeloy to feel held back when in the sixth form.
To me this suggests that the headmaster has inherited a set of brand values, one which I find alarming. I extrapolate these to be one of the primary causes of the lesson which is not being learnt from the past. The values that Epsom College shows me today, and showed me when as a parent I was seeking a school for my son are those of medium aspiration, medium education, contentment with medium attainment, contentment with medium rankings in league tables. And before those who will disagree with me with some vehemence quote the lack of value of league tables, I can say that I understand their precise value attributes, and I understand how they may be used correctly to form judgements about suitability of a school when choosing as a parent, as a customer. They are simply not the sum total of the information that one needs to make this judgement.
To me, medium translates as mediocre.
Mediocrity does not attract parents to send their offspring to a school. Mediocrity does not ensure a succession of grandfather, father, son. Mediocrity is appalling. Mediocrity leads to falling rolls.
And falling rolls lead to measures designed to attract new pupils. To be fair, comprehensive education did a great deal and continues to do a great deal to reverse the once inexorable decline in private education, this despite some excellent comprehensive schools. Pressure by socialist governments, learning through play, huge state sector class sizes, and awful political correctness has led to those of us who only just have the income to send our sons to the private sector to make the choice to go private. And because of this some schools which deserved to fail have survived. Other schools. Epsom College is not a school which deserved to fail.
But this does lead me to my issue of lessons not learned from the past. Had lessons been learned I would not be objecting. The causal link is co-education. But do not misunderstand me. I support either full co-education or total single gender education. The only variant I do not support is that old trendy idea of “token girls in the sixth form”.
Epsom College needs to be co-educational.
The reason is clear, abundantly clear. There is a finite quantity of children whose parents choose private education, and, since schools in this echelon of the private sector, the mediocre echelon, cannot attract the brightest children except by exception, or by accident, then the market niche for Epsom College is shrinking. To compete it was essential to become co-educational. At a stroke the word “co-educational” doubles the potential catchment areas while keeping the same geographic boundaries.
Co-education at Epsom College is now a total necessity. It has been a necessity since standards were allowed to slip from relatively high achievement (it was never the most highly academic school after all, but it used to be pretty damned good) into medium attainment and medium expectation.
But the lesson which is being badly learnt is the manner in which the new intake of girls is being accepted, and in the manner of the disruption of the boys in certain houses, It was not wonderful for the boys in Wilson to have their house vanish underneath them. Now, in his newsletter to OEs in April 2001 the headmaster says “The Governors and I accept that, for the Crawfurd boys, the changes are unwelcome and regrettable.” He says more, but I will leave the quote there.
Back in the 1960s Epsom College had a different problem. It was oversubscribed for its existing house structure. The decision was made to create Robinson by taking one third of the boys from Crawfurd and one third from Roseberry. Bear with me, for this is relevant.
Boys had formed close friendships within their houses. Epsom all but banned fraternisation between houses, and visits to other houses were forbidden. And then one third of the boys from the two day houses were uprooted and placed into Robinson.
But the ban on fraternisation remained and was enforced. The visits were still forbidden. Boys were made to choose which group of friends were more important to them. Whichever group you were in, the remains of Crawfurd and Roseberry, or the brave new Robinson, decisions were made which affected friendships inside and outside the school. And it was less than pleasant to find oneself torn in this manner.
As an example, I chose to remain in Crawfurd. I was unable to make a positive choice because one very good friend remained in Crawfurd and another went to Robinson. "Minor" friends were equally split. So I chose to visit Robinson periodically. But my visits, though welcomed by my old Crawfurdian friends, were treated with grave hostility by the new housemaster of Robinson, and I was routed with territorial vigour. This genuinely affected the continuance of some of those friendships.
And now, Wilson having been "migrated", Crawfurd is also to be "migrated", and boys who have formed close friendships are to be scattered to the four winds, or the eight other houses. They will "after a discussion between them, their parents and their housemasters, be offered places within the eight remaining boys' houses". There is a pseudo option of also staying together in the Newsom building. A final option designed to discourage any group from staying together. Who would wish to be there, in that final group.
The past split friends, and caused problems. But the atmosphere in the past was arrogance from the governing body and headmaster and housemasters concerned, and not one of those would listen to a boy.
It is, of course, too late to listen to anyone now. The plans are set. The waiting list is, no doubt, rising. It is an apparent success.
To the Governors and to the Headmaster I say simply this. Ask yourselves why so few OEs choose to send their children to you. Ask yourselves and think deeply on the answers. Commission a survey of OEs to find out. Do some simple market research. Ask about the brand values of the institution you have in your care and relate them to your old customers and your current customers. Ask yourself about the lost customers. At the Gaudy in 2000 I was not unique in having chosen a different school from Epsom for my son. I did not meet a single OE there who had sent his child to Epsom.
I asked them where their sons and daughters were going or had gone, or were about to go. Each said "Not to Epsom", and each gave reasons which were valid for them. To have a successful school at Epsom College the Governors and the Headmaster must address brand values and must show that they learn from past mistakes.
Unless, of course, a mediocre school is what is required.
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Gerry Goodman
Interesting!
Thanks, Tim!