1972: Ruth Dunn: Kilquhanity Pupil: Letter to Aitkenhead
Dear John, You will be surprised to hear from me after such a long silence. It must be all of twenty years and you will wonder what prompted me to write now.
Last night I had a dream about Kilquhanity.
It has taken me an awful long time to come to terms with what I did and did not receive from the school. Perhaps I can explain.
My feelings on ‘progressive’ ‘free’ schools are extremely mixed based on my own experience. I do believe in their general philosophy and abhor the old-fashioned rigidity of the so-called conventional schools which stifle individuality, initiative and creativity – though not by any means always.
I do not believe that G.C.E’s and PhD’s are a measure of education, though they do indicate that one has the ability and self-discipline to go through the motions obtaining them. However, the outside world demands these bits of paper and thy are passports to a whole lot of interesting opportunities.
Personally I regret not going to university. I believe I had the ability, but I certainly lacked the wisdom to know that I might regret not working at school. No academic demands were made upon me.
In retrospect, there was only one teacher whom I made any attempt to work for, and then not as much as I might have done. That was you. You were the only one whose lessons interested me in the slightest – especially in English which was your real love. Your love and enthusiasm came through and one felt that you were really on top of your subject. You did make certain demands, and in turn I think your pupils responded. Also you were the headmaster and I think kids sensed a certain determination (discipline) there. I cannot say the same for any of the other teachers I had.
I seem to remember George who was roped in to teach Maths. He looked after the farm and had a slightly fay wife and a mistress called Paddy. He came to the class with shit on his boots. Not that cow shit inhibits learning, but I sensed he knew more about cows than Maths. I believe he also taught geography and again, I don’t think he knew his subject or how to inspire kids to know it either.
Then there was Sam, who was a black guy from somewhere or other who had trouble with the language. He might have known his subject but he certainly didn’t know how to teach it. I remember Robert, a French student who was pursuing someone called Jenny (their sex lives were always much more interesting than wht they had to teach).
He spoke French too quickly and couldn’t cope, or at least at a school like Kilquhanity. We enjoyed teasing him. Kids are awful quick to sense someone’s weakness and he didn’t enjoy respect as a teacher. Of course, this does not mean that we couldn’t have learned from the Georges, the Sams and the Roberts if we had really wanted to, but they somehow did not inspire us to want to.
I think that ‘freedom’ to develop in the direction to which you are suited is terribly important, but it is sometimes difficult to find that direction without some kind of framework in which to operate. Ideally, a kid has to be inspired to want to learn, but a teacher must help him open the doors. In the event that he is reluctant, then he should be given a nudge. Demands should be made upon him and hopefully through them he will become interested.
Schools like Kilquhanity are small oasis but the outside world is tough and demanding. There is a responsibility to prepare the child for what he needs in that world.
Obviously all my philosophising on education is based on my own experience. To use that good good American expression: I goofed off while at school and I regret that someone didn’t kick me in the arse. I was very happy at Kilquhanity, but feel that my time could have been better spent than walking out one gate and in the other with Marilyn.
John, you will forgive me if this letter is offensive. I have had a number of reservations about progressive education based on my own experience. However, if your staff had the same philosophy as you and your professional ability, I would send my children to you like a shot – that is, if you would promise to give them a kick in the arse from time to time to give them a little direction.
