PRINCIPAL
THE PEOPLE YOU MEET
MR TOM BATTY SCHOOL PRINCIPAL
In 1987 , mind full of tales from my Kiwi dentist , I boarded a flight to New Zealand to start my teaching career at Thames High School on the stunning Coromandel Peninsula . I didn ’ t know anyone in the country and was attracted by the adventure of the new . All was made possible by the wonderful Headmaster , Tom Hill , who backed a young lad from the UK enough to push through the administration .
Ticket purchased via a childhood friend who came to Britain via Idi Amin ’ s Uganda , I said Gatwick farewells and set forth . In Thames , I found Mãori welcome , a wonderful school community and , in teaching and education , a passion for life . I was soon playing football for the town with new friends from the local car factory , a Liverpudlian who had jumped ship in Auckland and a Vietnam veteran who ’ d become the town police officer . Free time was spent sharing the passions of my housemates fishing and diving for scallops and crayfish , and going to the trots . I met the people of the town through business house sport , took week long camps of Year 8s up into the ranges with a sheet of tarpaulin and had the Friday evening responsibility of shinning up the flagpole to bring down the flag . I quickly felt part of the place .
A few months post arrival , en route to the South Island ski fields with housemates and friends , I found myself staring out of the car window looking at the small towns passing by as the kilometres turned . I reflected that I could so easily have written to the high school at any of these towns and ended up as part of their community . I would have found similar timetables and school routines . No doubt , they would all have football clubs and local sporting competitions . The laws , regulations and norms governing behaviour and social interaction would have been much the same . So , what is it that is different between communities ? What really gives colour to our lives and our celebration of each other ’ s quirks , foibles and talents ?
The people you meet .
From Thames to Wellington , the compassion and mercy of a Catholic boys ’ school of the Marist tradition , a priest who became a dear friend , a new football club in an Italian community , a boy whose dad was a fisherman and whose mum used to make me shirts , and one of the very best friends I ’ ve made in adult life , and his introduction to Pacific Island culture
through a Samoan homework centre and the Põneke rugby sheds . Boys of the 1st XI football team who would stay in touch and play for their country . Sadness through the loss of new friends , a dear Headmaster and a housemate whose love of mountains came at cost .
Sydney followed , and with the beautiful harbour came my beautiful wife and an exposure to rural Australia and its people that would grow to a deep sense of connection . Reconnection with childhood friends now trading chemicals and forming sheet metal . A new football club and new friends : a windscreen fitter who started his business on the back of a hailstorm and a systems analyst with a sweet left foot . Tutoring calculus , algebra and discrete mathematics brought forward , with an eagle on his shoulder , another of the great friends made in adult life , and , through a student who escaped , at terrible cost , the horrors of Pol Pot , a great lesson in life . The decision to stay and a school above the beach . A mathematics department spanning age and culture . Young men of passion , energy and humour who , once respect was forged , would run through brick walls . A former priest with an exceptional mind , an Irishman with a big heart and a former Brother who took my sporting wagers like candy . A colleague who headed north to run a general store and introduced me to the moonlit surf on Back Beach , Angourie .
The people you meet .
The Old Country called and a flat at school became a house and then a boarding house as family immediate and extended grew . A Year 10 boy who would call round for cordial and cakes on our deckchairs , and two of his classmates who left us too soon . Old friends who had sought fortune , had children and paid debts , running community football clubs and holding court in the White Horse . Dear friends with new twins clutching to sanity . Saying thank you to Georgi Zhukov at the Kremlin wall with a new dear Russian friend and a taxi driver who learnt his craft in a T34 at the battle of Kursk . A prince who gave me lifts from school who fell in a palace coup , and a Welsh mathematician with a passion for poetry and mountains who became a mentor . House trips to Brentford FC and a near miss crossing Ealing Road for a peer of the realm . Clever , funny , lively boys and
6 Great Scot Issue 165 – April 2022