King Henry VIII Grammar School

Sorting through old scribblings recently, I found this poem I wrote a few years ago. Clearly, Philip Larkin has a rival as Henry's best poet. MEASURING MY GENIUS AT AGE 13 Tucked up in bed, with wandering thoughts, I'm lousy at Maths and I'm useless at Sports, I can't climb a rope, I can't sing a tune, I fit in with the rest like the Man in the Moon. My school report says I'm incredibly dumb. In a Chemistry lesson, I blew off my thumb, My French sounds like German, my English is weak, And History - remind me, was Napoleon Greek? My Geography's bad, there was a lesson today, Guess what, I missed it - got lost on the way. Whilst Latin is silly, I mean it's so absurd, Two years of study and still no swear word. R.E. I hate and my teacher got pissed, When I stood up and asked "Does God really exist? And, if so, why didn't He answer my prayer? 'Cause you've not been struck down and that's so unfair.' In Physics, I learnt that sound travels in waves, So I screamed at the ocean "They treat us like slaves!' But all that came back was a lap on the shore. That's gravity, I'm told, a Newtonian Law. Found when an apple dropped right on his head, Is this the same force that keeps me in bed? But at least when I lie here, I know who I am, And can measure my genius. Point one of a gram.

As the Festive Season is upon us, I thought I would remind former pupils of the great times we had during this period. I know it seems unlikely and that I am imagining the whole thing, but this is how I remember it. It would begin a fortnight before we were due to break up for the holidays. The first indicators were the Christmas lights that had been placed around the entrances to the school. Then, as we entered our respective classrooms, we would note that a pair of balloons had been placed above the doors and streamers adorned the ceiling. The fun had commenced! The morning assembly would include a carol and a Christmas song. I still get goosebumps from recalling the Head's rendition of "Walking In a Winter Wonderland". And as for the duet of Bugsy and Joe Soap - well - I've never heard a more sonorous version of "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town". Then, as we left the Hall, we would pass the school leopard adorned in a pair of reindeer antlers with a sledge attached behind him. Anyone who had ever been chased by the leopard was in no doubt that he could fly if he put his mind to it. Back to the classroom and we would be greeted with a mince pie and mulled milk, which was an acquired taste, but worth the effort. All the lessons were Christmas themed. For example, in Maths, we would have to solve puzzles such as "There are eight people at the Christmas dining table. Of these, 50 per cent want a turkey leg. Let 'x' represent the number of guests, 'y' the number of turkey legs needed, and 'z' the average cooking time of a turkey in minutes. (a) If you allow thirty minutes for every pound weight of turkey, at what time would you need to start the oven in order to ensure that it is ready for serving at one o'clock? Show your workings. (b) At what time will Gran announce that the turkey should have gone in earlier? (c) Represent, in the form of a graph, the cumulative number of occasions Mum will go ballistic if you enter the kitchen and ask "Is dinner ready yet?" With one week to go, the Christmas spirit would be ramped up. Oh boy, I can never adequately describe the excitement of seeing the sign "Deputy Headmaster's Office" being replaced by one reading "Santa's Grotto". And there he was. Piggy Shore, outfitted in red, bell in hand, striding down the corridors crying "Yo, Ho, Ho, Yo, Ho, Ho." The following morning, all the prefects at the gates would be dressed as elves. Santa's Helpers, every one, offering a packet of 'Cherry Flavoured Tunes' to every boy with a sniffly nose. The Assembly Hall had, in the far corner, the biggest Christmas Tree I'd ever seen. Shimmering baubles hung from every branch and on top was the largest fairy of them all. I'm not exaggerating when I say that she had a twenty foot wing span. When she flapped them, it was like being head on to a brutal wind blowing in from the North Sea. On the final day, we would all be given a personal gift. That first time I held one in my hand will stay with me forever. I unwrapped the package and could not believe my eyes. It was a bubblegum card with a picture of Nobby Stiles on the front. How could they possibly know that it needed this to complete my collection?!! It was magical. Yes, Christmas at Henry's was magical. Goodwill to all pupils was the theme. And when the Headmaster read the Nativity Story to us and the three Wise Men from the Science Department - Alfie, Snoz and Slug - rode camels onto the stage, I started to choke up. Okay, that was probably the smell of camel, but it was pretty emotional, nevertheless. They definitely knew how to put on a show. Then all that remained was the pantomime. I never guessed who played the Ugly Sisters the year the teachers gave us "Cinderella'. So many possibilities. But they sure could throw custard pies. And - believe me - I threw up a lot of custard when I was there, so I know what I'm talking about. Christmas never has - and never will - be the same. Thank you, teachers, one and all. And Merry Christmas, School and Ex-Pupils and Anyone Else Who Happens To Love Make-Believe.

Wonderful stuff, Inkers! How could any of us forget those magical days. I have particular memories of those three wise men, and the gifts they were bearing. Alfie was a tight old sod, so brought a cheap substitute, iron pyrites. Snoz tapped up one of the lab technicians, Frank, for a few locusts. Slug, ever one for a jolly jape, obtained some of the school leopard's droppings which were normally used to deter cats from Piggy's allotment. So there we had it - "Fool's Gold, Frank's Insects and Merde."

Very funny as always, thanks Inkers Hope you will be able to top that with your New Year exploits !

Hello Mister D-Di, Thank you. Yes, I think the gifts from the Wise Men would have given rise to one of those awkward Christmas morning moments. "And what have we here? Another present from the Magi! Oh, you shouldn't have. The iron pyrite and locusts were plenty. Well, the wrapping is beautiful. Where did you get this lovely box? I can never find anything like this in Smiths. You know, I just can't wait to open it. Here we go! Oh, sh--. " I had a strange experience whilst writing the piece. Even though it was me who was actually composing the long winded and unfathomable Maths question, I still couldn't stop myself from smacking my forehead several times against the desk top in exasperation!

Hi Dreamtime, I'm glad you enjoyed the seasonal silliness and thanks for your response. Prefects dressed up as Christmas Elves. Now that I would have liked to see!

I really don't know what came over me when I was being disparaging about the relevance of Maths equations. Why, only today I was planning my trip to the supermarket and was staring at the shopping list. Straight away, my brain went into Maths mode. "Let 'a' represent the number of items that I need to acquire. Let 'b' represent the average length of a shopping aisle. Let 'c' represent the number of aisles. Let 'd' represent the time it takes to walk down an aisle and take three items from the shelves. How long is it going to take me to complete my shopping expedition? Show my workings." Immediately, I grab pen and paper and write out the requisite equation, fill in the numbers and 'Eureka!'. Maths has saved the day. I can plan how long the trip will take me. Then I get to the supermarket and the following real life happens: Let 'e' represent the number of aisle routes blocked by conversing shoppers with large trolleys. Let 'f' represent the relocation of goods from one aisle to another without my foreknowledge. Let 'g' represent a blocked aisle due to spillage and subsequent health and safety concerns. Let 'h' represent the number of items on my list that the supermarket stocked last week, but has now dropped due to insufficient sales. Let 'i' represent a rebranding by the manufacturer such that I was looking for a blue package which is now 'rusty orange' because it is 'contemporary' and 'stands out'. Add an extra five minutes because the marketing people are idiots and it does not. And so on. Let the 'infinity sign' represent the number of times that I say "The things I learnt in school have no practical use, whatsoever."

Hi LotI I like the gist of your story, but what rotten luck you had! I've made a pretty good living out of algebra just like that. In fact, I got lucky twice in my career, and both involved a bit of algebra on the back of an old envelope. One back-of-the-envelope equation in 1981 resulted in a methodology for forecasting workloads across the entire criminal justice system, that has given me an entire career and taken me around the world. The other equation, in 1994, foreshadowed the magnitude of illicit money flows around the world, and ultimately the global financial crisis. For years, this equation was ridiculed by the "experts" in academia and government, until the IMF, the World Bank, and even the US Treasury agreed that I was right and they were wrong. There's no doubt that I was lucky enough to have an aptitude for that sort of thing, that perhaps you didn't - you're certainly not alone! But I think there's been an awful lot of criticism of the KHVIII teaching that is simply unfair. I remember very well the stuff I learnt from Tramp Edwards, Fred Dunn, Bert Wrench etc - and another teacher whose name I can't remember - we thought he was a Yank but his accent was probably West Country - anyone remember him? When I went to University I found that they had actually already taught me most of the university maths curriculum, which meant that I could concentrate on the stuff that didn't come so naturally to me. One aspect of this that we probably agree on is that KHVIII was much more aligned to kids hoping to get into University than to other kids. Hindsight is always a wonderful thing, and it looks like my parents' choice of school for me was a luckier one than your parents' choice for you. Not necessarily the school's fault?

Hello Johnnie, Thank you for your post. It was very interesting to read about how you were able to apply the knowledge acquired at school in an occupational situation. Here is how my post, prior to yours, came into being. I had been sitting at home, chuckling to myself, whilst recalling how daunted (and disengaged) I felt when faced with certain Maths problems. As you point out, I was probably not alone in feeling this way, so I felt sufficiently motivated to write a spoof around the everyday supermarket experience in the hope that it might amuse the similarly perplexed. It was also intended to communicate a slightly deeper issue; namely the contrast between theory and practice. Did the Maths questions we were given at school include all the variables necessary to arrive at the 'correct answer', or did they merely provide us with an abstract representation that served to demonstrate the value of logical-mathematical thinking? That is, they presented the students with a contained problem, for which there can only possibly be one 'right answer'. The point I was trying to make is that, often in life, there are uncertainties. I think these are termed the 'known unknowns' and the 'unknown unknowns'. Hence, my flippant observation that everything I learnt in school had been of no practical use. It was a tongue-in-cheek comment, but with a semblance of validity to it, based on my personal experience. In your case, it clearly was of practical use, assisting you in University and your subsequent career. You state that you had arrived at an equation, in 1994, that had been ridiculed by 'experts', but you were subsequently validated. Imagine, then, being a schoolboy who had reservations about the value of the education he was receiving, but who was ridiculed by the experts at the time. Well, I found my validation in a book entitled "What's The Point Of School? Rediscovering The Heart Of Education" by Guy Claxton (2010 edition). This is not a like-for-like comparison. I am, hopefully, providing you with an example of what it felt like for me when I, finally, read informed opinions that echoed many of my uninformed ones. The discussions regarding 'best education' are never ending. Again, there are numerous variables and no right answer. Whose fault is it? The Government, the teachers, the curriculum, the pupils, the parents? The argument that I have expressed on the Forum is that the school was impersonal. I guess the school would argue that my wish for the teachers to better understand me in order to bring out the best in me was impractical and, therefore, impossible. I would disagree. Is that my fault? Maybe, maybe not. Do the teachers get a raw deal on the Forum? Here is one perspective. If you are in a position of authority, in which your decisions impact the lives of others who are not formally permitted to question your judgement and capabilities - is it not reasonable to expect a degree of criticism, if your decisions have an adverse impact on those individuals? Does it not go with the territory, so to speak? Psychologists have (finally?) taken an interest in the human propensity towards bias. Here is a description of Confirmation Bias. "We tend to seek out information that confirms our expectations and assumptions, and to ignore anything contradictory". So, I have to concede to a certain tendency to cherry-pick my examples of the teachers 'underperforming' and downplay evidence to the contrary. It is a very interesting discussion. I had some heated debates with my father, at times, when I brought home yet another bad report. He was inclined to believe the opinion of the experts from the school. Simply put, I wasn't working hard enough. He was not swayed by my arguments concerning the impersonal nature of the teaching, the strictness, the ennui and the relevance of subject matter. Neither would the school have been, should I been granted the opportunity to express them! But I did not belong at Henrys. No doubt about that! When I send the school up, I do so in the hope that this generates as much gentle humour for the reader as it does for the writer. But I do get really worried when I think I might have overstepped the mark. It is quite hard at times, because I am trying to make the writing funny and when I think up a joke that fits very nicely, it is tough to give up on it. I do often question why I have posted on so many occasions. I didn't start out with that intention. The answer I have found is that I enjoy using my imagination in this manner. And, rightly or wrongly, I believe I'm better at it than I was at any subject studied at school! Congratulations on finding your vocation. I'm still looking for mine. Yes - my fault.

Hi LotI Nice and constructive response! Maybe you have found your forte in - what is it? - not "black" humour - maybe "clerical grey" humour? No chance of that EVER being taught at KHVIII! Are you aware that, with your instinctive distrust of maths, you were within a thought or two of receiving an Albert Einstein Award? Sadly, that honour went in 1951, not to you, but to Kurt G

Some interesting ideas there. I tend to agree with Inkers that most of what I learned at KHVIII has been of very little practical use to me since leaving school. I dreaded maths there because the teaching was so poor. I later needed some applied maths in my career but I effectively had to re-learn it all for it to be of any use. I did some at night classes at Henley College and then later more advanced stuff at Matthew Boulton College. The teaching at both of those places was streets ahead of anything at KHVIII, not just the methods but the quality of teacher too. I believe the criticism of the teaching at the school was very fair, particularly in maths but also in other subjects, especially sciences. You actually hit the nail on the head, inadvertently, in that you had a natural aptitude for the subject. The teachers concentrated most of their efforts on such people, perhaps a handful in each class. The rest were left behind to struggle in their wake. Tolerance of pupils without that 'aptitude' was non-existent, even if they were actually willing to learn. As a result, many became disaffected and disheartened. It was a very clear weakness in the teaching at KHVIII, and in my opinion led to much of the rebellious behaviour that was happening at the time. I absolutely agree that everything was geared to training people for university admission. Nothing else mattered if the top performers got accepted to Oxford or Cambridge. The paucity of the careers advice has been discussed here before, since those not wanting to read law, medicine or classics were just ignored. I made a success of a professional career despite KHVIII, not because of it.

Maths, For A levels we were very lucky. For Applied Maths I was taught by an ex-university Don, so he said. His opening gambit was "My speciality is statistics, it's been years since I have done applied so we will learn applied together." I count myself fortunate to be taught by such a giant of maths for barely 6 months later he said "Now we have done the whole A Level syllabus all you have to do is revise what you have learned". Sadly for this minnow the revision took me less time than it did to type this sentence. In my mock A levels I got 2.5% in applied and 4% in pure (it might have been the other way around - but hey ho, I remember the grades). The other thing I remember was that I was in the top 25% of my class for the maths mocks, so obviously less than a minnow than I had thought a year and a half before. Don't get me started on A level physics, I am quite capable of doing that myself - damn I have! Up to O levels we were taught with SI units, come A levels there were not enough SI unit books to go around so we were "taught" with 30 year old books using imperial units! (tothis day I don't know what a Slug or Erg is, it's a foreign language to me even after some 40 years in engineering). I saw a losers stats book, I think it was printed in the 20s, it started off something like "A farmer goes to market and sells a goose for a farthing". Bearing in mind this was the mid 70s. Come to think of it, the physics book may have been for applied maths but I have spent many decades trying to forget my time there so I chalk this lapse of memory up as a success. I would love to know if anyone else remembers these books. I would also love to know the distribution of A level passes, I strongly suspect it wasn't the classic bell shape but more like a well endowed woman's chesticles with a 1970s Playtex lift and separate bra.

Despite weighing over 32 pounds a slug is quite harmless. It's the kilo slugs you need to watch out for. If you then multiply your kiloponds by nine hundred and eighty thousand six hundred and sixty five (or your sth

32 pounds? From my days at KHVIII, I seem to recall that the weight of a Slug was probably nearer 32 stones.

One lad in our class did a very funny impersonation of him attempting, albeit unsuccessfully, to do his jacket up around his stomach.