Speech Night 2011

The School has now broken for half-term and we are beginning, as my friends who are not teachers would have it, yet another holiday. Well, yes, teachers do well in holidays, there is no denying, and we're unlikely to convince anyone that we slog through them, selflessly devoting ourselves to the interests of the children we teach, even when this is actually true. The holidays are needed not so much by the staff, as by the children, who can and do get tired and fractious towards the end of any term. There is an old argument about whether the present holiday structure is the best and most effective in fostering effective learning and I have some sympathy with those who argue that a four term year with a shorter summer break is the best configuration to sustain consistent freshness and vigour. The long summer break is, however, a wonderful luxury...

The last week of a term or half term is always the same. A looming deadline imposes a sense of urgency and the thought that everything must be finished and tidied up NOW. This was certainly the case in the last week, which began on Saturday (22 October) with our AQE orientation day. In our case, it passed off smoothly thanks to the impeccable organisation of Jonathan Todd, our Examinations Officer, and the willing, voluntary help of so many staff, teaching and non-teaching. We also had the assistance of our prefects and, for the first time, some of our Year 8 boys, who were drafted in to reassure the P7 children and help generally with the organisation. This they did wonderfully well.

Much of my time since then has been devoted to the writing of The Speech for Speech Night. Prize Distribution speeches are a genre sui generis. They are a mixture of an annual report and educational tour d'horizon with something of the state of the nation thrown in for good measure:  I take my time to do it. It's difficult to balance all the themes and weave them into a seamless whole, but, when completed, it is undeniably satisfying. It's not poetry and as prose it is little more than adequate, but it's a useful intellectual exercise to draw out what are the really important issues. Maybe some time in the far distant future, some poor, harmless drudge will write his PhD thesis on the great issues for Northern Irish voluntary grammar schools in the 21st century and will access my collected speeches and find them useful.

Then again, maybe not...

There is no recognised form, but there is the absolute restraint of timing, by which I mean the length of time taken to deliver the speech on the night. George F. Kaufman famously said that plays are not written, they are re-written. This is true of Speech Night speeches. My first draft is always execrably written and long beyond the ability of any listener to endure.   Once it's there, however, the real process of writing can begin and the first priority is to cut and cut again. The prose looks after itself as part of that process. My 'rehearsal' ran for 25 minutes; the performance, I am told, but not necessarily reliably, stood at 27 minutes. Some year, the winner of the staff's sweepstake, a suitably grateful punter, will cut me in on the winnings...

Fortunately, the star speech is given by the Guest of Honour and  we were excellently served this year by Jonathan Allison. Details of his biography may be found at the beginning of my speech and if you read it, you will understand how fortunate we were that he so kindly accepted our invitation. Jonathan flew from the USA especially to be with us, an astonishing compliment, and his speech was a small masterpiece of reminiscence, reflection, humour and graceful compliment, all delivered with disarming affection and warm wit. The guest always has the graveyard shift, speaking at the end of a long evening when the boys and parents might be said to have had quite enough, thank you. Once he began, however, one could feel the audience audibly relax, evident in the attention they gave and the depth and resonance of their laughter. Once that happened, the time ceases to be a factor. Thank you, Jonathan.

Any time there is a public event, when, as it were, we let an audience in, I try to see what we look like from outside. Almost every time, I feel proud; proud of our boys, whose relaxed and diffident charms are unselfconsciously apparent, and proud of our staff, even - especially - when I know they would rather be anywhere but the Clarke Hall on Speech Night...