Ronald Rivers-Moore
by Ronald Rivers-Moore
(Principal, 1972-1977)
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Ronald Rivers-Moore |
It was in the Spring of 1971 that I found myself in a rather dingy office in Covent Garden being interviewed by Geoff Speak for the post of Principal, Island School, Hong Kong. The situation was rather unusual in that Geoff was appointing his own successor. The school had opened in 1967 with Geoff Speak not only as Principal but also as Secretary to the newly created English Schools Foundation. It was fortuitous, and I think in no way significant, that the formation of the ESF arose from the Marsh/Sampson Report on English education in Hong Kong and, at the time of my appointment, R.M. Marsh was Director of Education in Hampshire where I was still serving as Headmaster of Havant Grammar School. As Island School rapidly grew from its small beginnings it inevitably soon became necessary to separate the responsibilities of School Principal and ESF Secretary. It was in his Secretary's hat that Geoff was appointing his successor as Principal.
The interview appeared to go well. My strongest impression was that when asked what we did at Havant on many matters of general policy - discipline, uniform, House system and so on - Geoff invariably commented that my reply seemed to describe exactly the policy at Island School. Unless my remarks had been so platitudinous that they would be given equally by all candidates it seemed that I was certainly in with a chance.
After the inevitable interval of time I received a much appreciated phone call from Geoff to tell me that I was offered the post. I soon managed to make my first diplomatic blunder, before even reaching Hong Kong. With no official announcement yet made in Hong Kong - indeed even before formal ratification by the School Council - word of my appointment got around the Colony. The explanation was that, not having been told that my appointment was not yet official, I let it be known in Havant that I would be leaving. The local paper made a brief announcement, a local friend or relation of an Island School parent saw it, mentioned it in a letter or phone call and the cat was out of the bag. Rather embarrassing!
Because of the necessary notice to be given to Hampshire I was unable to take up the appointment until January 1972. It was pleasing, intriguing and encouraging to receive visits at my home during the summer from the Senior Master and Mistress, Mike Taylor and Evie Twitchett, and from the Deputy Principal, Neil Harding. Neil was to stand in as Acting Principal for the autumn term. This he did with enthusiastic energy, keeping me in the picture and generously consulting me by letters and by copied papers.
At the time of my arrival the new school buildings were not yet completed and the school's life was based on the old Military Hospital - an architecturally attractive building but somewhat delapidated and not altogether well suited to its new role. I particularly remember the long, narrow ward that served for assemblies and also the various "cubby holes" along the corridors. Some of these were used, I think, as approved House rooms but some, officially closed and in total darkness, were an irresistible invitation to illicit use by senior pupils.
Moving day
Moving day
Moving day
It was not until the summer of the following year, 1973, that the planned school buildings were completed and Neil Harding efficiently organised a mass of student pack-horses to transfer furniture and equipment across the road. I have a vivid reminder of this in a lovely colour slide of a procession of senior students each carrying a table on his or her head up the staircase of Block 1. Neil Harding was always the expert and driving force with regard to building matters but in due course I did make some contribution in two, or in a sense three, areas. Before long it became clear that additional laboratories and other facilities would be needed and it was agreed that a further floor should be added to the roof of the science block. It was my suggestion, adopted readily by Chris Haffner, the architect, that instead of removing the overhang from the existing roof it should be incorporated into the new top-floor rooms. The structural girders at roof level, however, extended upwards instead of hanging downwards from the ceiling. This is the reason for the rather odd structure along the side of the new Art Room, Science Lab and Fibreglass Workshop.
Opening day for the new school
My second involvement in building plans was in the layout of the Sixth Form Common Room, created by the enclosure of two of the old "covered playground" areas. My contribution here was the incorporation of part of the floor area at the foot of the stairway thus making a larger, more pleasant L-shaped room. The cost of this project was to be covered by the P.T.A. and it was unfortunate that the proposal to incorporate the extra area, rather belatedly and hurriedly introduced, led to some rather acrimonious conflict with the then Chairman of the P.T.A..
The third personal involvement in building matters was more indirect. It arose out of my active interest in the School Sailing Club. We were unfortunately no longer permitted to keep our boats on the site of the Services Sailing Club at Stanley and, living as I did in Stanley, I saw that the enclosed sewage disposal site there would provide the ideal answer to our needs. I wrote to the Public Works Department to ask who would be responsible for authorising our use of this site. This was a tactical error. Instead of an answer to my question I received a letter stating that, for medical reasons, etc., etc., the idea was out of the question. It was about a year later when the Hong Kong Squash Club approached the school in search of a site for new squash courts. The spokesman for the Squash Club happened to be a senior member of the P.W.D.. The objections to our dinggy park proposals strangely disappeared, approval was given and indeed the P.W.D. even paved the road outside which had previously been rough gravel. The concrete slipway nearby was made possible by a donation from the ever-helpful P.T.A.. As for the squash courts, I was of course involved in the negotiations and I hope that I may some day be able to see the resulting building.
In spite of the philosophical similarity between Island School and Havant Grammar there were of course many major differences. One of these was the amazing, and welcome, national and racial mix of the students. Although technically a Comprehensive school, however, the student body was much more socially restricted and privileged. The whole question of student admissions was a total change from the routine 11+ selection in Havant. The criteria for admission used then, and no doubt now, were a need for a sufficient command of English and an age not more than one full year above the norm for the appropriate class on admission. There were many cases of non-English-speaking students trying to jump the barrier, usually by the use of mobile dates of birth. One example will suffice. One day in 1974 I was phoned by the police to ask whether we had as a pupil in our Fifth Form a resident of Wu Kwai Sha, aged twenty-three! I was told that the boy, or young man, had been picked up under suspicion of attempting to steal a bicycle. His birth certificate was dated 1951. Would I please ask to see again the papers that would certainly have been presented on his entry to the school. The birth certificate produced next day differed from that shown to the police in that a touch on the figure "1" had simply and effectively amended the date of birth from 1951 to 1957; the man of 23 had become, un-noticed, a boy of 17! I allowed him to stay to take his 0 Levels, due a few weeks later, but in spite of pleadings I could not accept him into the Sixth Form on the basis of a forgery. I was very touched a few years later to receive a visit from this same lad, now on holiday from college in Canada and presenting me with a goodwill offering of a pair of Chinese lion book-ends.
I received a phone call one day from the Education Office to say that the newly appointed Cuban consul would be seeking the admission of his daughter and son, aged about 13 and 12. I was reminded of the diplomatic protocol which entitled the families of consular staff to a guarantee of access to "suitable education". On arrival in my office with the children the consul assured me, through an interpreter, that the children both spoke and wrote fluently in Russian having just spent some years in Moscow. Of English they could not speak a word. Was I to set a highly dangerous precedent by breaking my criteria for admission or should I reject them and risk an East-West diplomatic crisis? I decided on the latter recommending, however, intensive English coaching with the incredibly effective Mrs Gregory on whom we so often relied. Fortunately this proposal was accepted with friendly smiles and maybe only two months later these extremely able children could join the school.
A headmaster's life is inevitably one of taking decisions, some major - some trivial; "the buck stops here." One most difficult and necessarily instant decision also arose from a phone call. Word came to me from the general office (Is the admirable Vicky still there?) that there had just been a phone call to say that a bomb was hidden in the building. Should we evacuate? Had it been during the time of the Hong Kong riots of 1957 or in the world of the I.R.A. the answer would have been clear. But I was convinced it must be a present or former student of the school and I could not bear the thought of him sitting on the hillside laughing his head off while a thousand pupils and staff marched out of the buildings. And if he succeeded once, how many more times would we have to repeat the performance? I took no action, remained in my office and, if I remember right, told no-one. Nothing happened.
We later received two or three further similar calls, also ignored. As a result mainly of a pure chance piece of confidential hearsay of something quite unconnected with the school but showing certain similarities I gained a very strong suspicion of the identity of the caller - a recently left student with a brother still in the school. It so happened that not long afterwards this boy called me on the phone to ask if he could see me with a view to supplying books for which he was an agent. I arranged an appointment but then chanced my arm by saying "By the way, I would be grateful if you would stop making those phone calls." After a brief silence there were protestations of ignorance as to what I was talking about but it was no surprise that he never came to see me.
I have mentioned the close similarity of style between Island School and Havant Grammar, of which I had been founder-Head. Although this was in many ways advantageous it did also create some difficulty for me. There were minor things I might have organised differently and I did indeed make some changes but basically I did not feel the need for much reform. The result of this was that after about a year the staff, always a group of lively people, began to wonder when the new broom was going to do a bit of sweeping. Various staff were coming up with serious ideas but not always in my view really viable. The outcome was that I set up a series of "Working Parties" to consider a range of topics and all open to any interested member of staff, chaired by staff and reporting back to me but only attended by me periodically, when deemed desirable. The most important area under review, and rightly a matter of serious concern, was the problem of giving adequate attention to the needs of the less able students. This inevitably opened up the question of streaming together with the resulting implications for the whole organisation of the school and, in particular, the House system. It was a most valuable exercise not least perhaps for the increased awareness in the staff that the introduction of changes clearly desirable in themselves might either be logistically impossible or have implications in other areas that would be undesirable and unacceptable. The basic nature of the school remained unchanged though some new policies were introduced (such as "Chinese Studies" in the First Form). Some of the changes did not carry my own personal support but even these were acceptable and I had to acknowledge afterwards that they were indeed welcome improvements. Certainly also I felt at the end of it all that staff morale, and also my own position, had greatly benefited.
One of the basic problems in Hong Kong was the terribly tight staffing ratio. I need not go into the very understandable political reasons for it but when, a year or two later, I was preparing the case for an increase in staff (to be paid for by parents) I calculated that in a U.K. State school we would have expected I think at least twelve additional staff - enough to transform what the- school could offer. It is a tribute to the quality and energy of the staff that in spite of their enormous numerical deficiency the quality of life and work, in and outside the classroom, compared favourably with the best State schools back in England. I have to admit that I waged the battle for extra staff largely under pressure and encouragement from Mike Taylor, not because I did not feel the need but because I had no belief in the chances of success. I was delighted to learn, after my retirement, that the case we made had indeed eventually been won.
The whole framework of staff appointments differed fundamentally from that in England. Details do not matter. Apart from the actual staffing ratio a major contrast was the required quota of 25% of "local" appointments. When interviewing time came round each year at Easter in England one had to balance candidates against those already seen in Hong Kong (almost always expatriate wives). The ratio of 3:1 could not be exceeded. A good man and wife team in these circumstances would be a particularly valuable catch.
Ronald Rivers-Moore and his staff
One thing that amazed me on arrival in Hong Kong concerned our university applications. I found to my horror that our students were all required to fill in their UCCA forms down at the Education Department. Though rather pointless that was harmless enough. The trouble was that I discovered that the completed forms were not being sent off immediately to England but were being piled up in the office until it was felt that all UCCA forms had been completed and they could be sent off in a single batch! Some forms might be held up for a couple of months and for some students this would undoubtedly reduce their chances of a place. Fortunately it did not need a serious battle to obtain consent to our own completion and posting of our UCCA forms the following year.
The PTA has already received a passing mention. It deserves much more. It was a far more significant and helpful body than in my experience in England. Not only did it raise money for the school on a most generous scale; this is clearly more possible in Hong Kong than for an English State school. The parents played an active and helpful role in many areas. I cannot mention or even remember them all but School Transport comes immediately to mind. On my arrival one of the many administrative burdens resting on Neil Harding's shoulders was organising school bus contracts, sale of tickets, handling complaints from the company or from parents and so on. In a moment of inspiration I suddenly thought of Mrs. Boyde, a woman of boundless energy and no-nonsense bluntness; an excellent person and just right for the job. To my delight she took it on and ran it with great efficiency at least until the end of my time as Principal. She earned all our thanks. I must also acknowledge the unceasing, friendly and active support given to the school and to me personally by Nan Robertsonn as Chairman of the PTA (or do we now say "Chairperson" even in Hong Kong?). I know she has since then given valued service on the Island School Council.
There are of course many small, detailed recollections, nearly all I am pleased to say happy ones. The magnificent performance of "The Wizard of Oz" by junior pupils directed by Pam Butler - not to mention Pam's own wonderful singing on one or two informal occasions. The swimming sports were always a great occasion. I also used to enjoy my grandstand view of the finish of the annual cross-country run; indeed, I often derived great pleasure just from the sight of the streams of students passing from place to place along the balconies at change of lessons. Greg's tuck shop chicken legs were another repeated joy!
One other little event recollected with pleasure was the "non-uniform day" each year, raising money for the School Zoo, I think. Students were permitted to come to school without uniform, subject to a "voluntary fine" of a dollar a head. One year it was pointed out that the Sixth Formers, being permanently exempt from uniform, were deprived of involvement in this event. The solution was to offer a dollar for each Sixth Former parading across the morning assembly platform and assessed by Evie Twitchett and myself as "particularly smart". This was always good fun - and cost me quite heavily each year! I remember one year an American girl having a go at passing round a second time and earning an extra dollar for the zoo. Fortunately for me, she was such a notorious character that even I could not fail to notice her. This was the self-assured young girl who some years previously walked into my study, sat down in front of me, put her elbow on my desk and her chin on her hand, leant forward and declared "Mr Rivers-Moore, I am bored in class. I think I should move up a year." My recollection is that in due course her proposition was accepted though not, I think, without considerable division of opinion among the staff.
I am sure many more, and more important, customs and events could be recalled - the excellent Second Year camps at Wu Kwai Sha for example - already well established before my arrival. Then there were Keith Garner's expeditions to Nepal, preceded by the sight of senior students giving each other piggy-back rides from foot to top of the Island School staircases; a severe test of stamina. These remind me in turn John Warren's flourishing programmes for the D of E Gold Award. The list could be endless. It was, and I am sure still is, a wonderful school. A compliment which I particularly treasure came from a parent chatting with a friend after a PTA A.G.M. "My daughter has been to many schools. When she came home the other day she said - 'Mum, at Island School the children don't hate the teachers.'" As a summing up of the atmosphere in any school I would not ask for better.
Mr. and Mrs. Rivers-Moore in retirement in Bristol
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