I first met Clyde Broster when I was teaching at Plumstead High School many years ago. His wife, Pam, was on the staff and she had the enviable reputation of being a more than competent, highly capable and very caring Maths teacher. Appropriately, these were the same qualities that I was to experience some two decades later when Clyde came to teach English on the Wynberg staff.
In 1982, the Brosters accompanied me on a tour of Europe which I organised primarily for my Latin classes – but we also opened it up to other pupils who were interested. One of them, Ian Gilmour, soon found out that he should have done Latin when he came out of his hotel room in Rome in a manner reminiscent of Obelix, cursing the stupidity of all Romans. ‘The taps which have C on them are all pour out scorching hot water,’ he complained to those of us who were patiently waiting for him in the hotel foyer. His hand was wrapped in a cold and wet handkerchief for relief.
‘It seems that you should be taking them all for Latin lessons, Richie,’ said Clyde with his dry sense of humour. That is education at its best – I have no doubt that if there is one word of Latin which Ian now knows is that ‘calidus’ is the Latin word for hot – which was the ‘C’ on the taps!
Clyde of course revelled in this detail and for our remaining time in Rome, he continually suggested, when we were wondering what to have for lunch, that we should give Ian a ‘calidus canis’ (literally ‘hot dog’….) for lunch. Ian, still nursing his scalded hand, did not find this particularly funny.
That quiet, but sharp sense of humour is evident throughout the book Clyde has just published about his years in teaching: Unswept Leaves: A Teacher’s Life. Using a technique perfected by James Herriot in ‘It Shouldn’t Happen to a Vet’, he changes names marginally and then describes characters, events, incidents and schools with the canny accuracy, empathetic understanding and the insight born of the wisdom of years. Throughout the book is the quiet, but sharp humour which we have come to appreciate from him over the years.
Clyde Broster aka Chris Barker |
His final seven years of teaching were spent at Wynberg Boys’ High School thinly disguised at Waterfield High School in his book. That name certainly reflects an accurate description of the school campus after the wet winter we have just experienced! He makes it very clear in his reminiscences that a sense of humour is essential in dealing with boys and he shows through his journey of memories that throughout his career, tense and potentially explosive incidents could be turned to the positive by seeing the humorous side of any story.
He describes an incident when he taught a Grade 10 English class. In spite of repeated instructions to the class to leave every alternate line open so that he could write in the corrections, one boy, ‘Chippie’, handed in the written work without the requested open spaces. He asked him to do it again.
The next day the work was handed in – still without the required spacing. Clyde held up another piece of work which had been done according to his requirements and instructed Chippie for a third time to do it overnight. Chippie nodded ‘like a solemn puppy’ and handed in the work the next day – again with continuous writing.
‘What – are – you – trying – to – do?’ said Clyde between clenched teeth.
‘Just seeing how far I could go before you crack,’ came the cheerful response….
Only at a boys’ school! Which mother will not recognise her son in that story?
Joy Goodwin aka Joyce Goodman |
Joy Goodwin was not amused to see how she was portrayed as ‘Joyce Goodman’. ‘How could he do that?’ she exclaimed to me with righteous indignation in the staffroom when I showed her where she starred in the book. ‘He knows how I hate the name Joyce…’.
Bill Creed aka Bob King |
Bob King was the name assigned to our Biology teacher, Bill Creed. Clyde took great pleasure in recounting the story of a boy who exclaimed in Bill’s class: ‘Sir! You are a legend! I am going to be telling my children about you!’
Bill was astounded and in his uniquely dispassionate style stared at the boy: ‘Good grief, boy. Don’t tell me that you have plans to breed….’
Bill’s caustic sense of humour is legendary. At Steve Doidge’s (class of 1990) 40th birthday party last week, Bill brought a sheaf of papers containing Steve’s marks at school. ‘Just in case he gets a swollen head after all the praise-singing tonight,’ he told me while pointing out what Steve’s Maths marks at school were.
‘He was wasted as a teacher,’ said Kevin Musikanth at the same party. ‘Bill Creed should have been a stand-up comedian.’
One theme that runs throughout Unswept Leaves is how lasting a teacher’s casual comment, throwaway remark or chance observation can be. Clyde cites numerous examples of meeting past pupils years after they have left school who say what effect a spontaneous aside had made in their lives.
I can personally vouch for how a passing comment is remembered for years, when I received a letter recently from a 1970’s Wynberg old boy who said how determined he was to leave school in Standard 7 because school life was too much for him. He chanced to pass the then vice-principal, Ray Connellan, in the corridors who greeted him by name and asked how he was. He had no idea that Ray even knew of his existence - as he did not teach him. ‘That was a defining moment for me,’ he said in his letter to me. ‘I was noticed as an individual. That changed my whole approach to school.’
Clyde says it best in his book: Perhaps it is those things we do when we aren’t conscious of doing them that count the most.’
I enjoyed the obvious love of teaching and the opportunity of making a difference in the lives of his pupils which permeates every page of this 348 page book detailing incidents in Clyde’s 43 year career spanning eight schools. In recollecting all the incidents mentioned in the book, his non-judgemental approach was the no doubt the reason why his pupils were prepared to take him into their confidence so readily.
I loved the story of ‘Warner’ – a pupil in one of the schools in which he first taught. Like all boys, Warner dreamed of hitting on a money-making scheme. As teachers we know that entrepreneurship and personal aggrandizement is close to the heart of most adolescents!
Warner had a sure –fire scheme to start his financial money-making career. He wrote to a cigarette company (using the formal letter format which they had just been taught in class) complaining that the tobacco they used in their cigarettes was defective and far too loose. He requested the company to replace the carton. Surprisingly, this is what they duly did, adding a few extra cartons for goodwill and public relations.
Unfortunately success went to Warner’s head and he then proceeded to write to other cigarette companies with the same grievance. What he did not realise was that the parent company of all these cigarette companies was the same…..
He was duly summoned to the Headmaster’s office to answer the subsequent complaint from the Cigarette Company and this is where, for Clyde, the Law of Unintended Consequences kicked in. In his defence to his Headmaster, Warner had cited Clyde as a co-conspirator because he had shown him how to write a business letter! So Clyde ended up on the Headmaster’s Mat as well.
Not surprisingly Clyde opted not to teach Warner the following year!
Writing under the pseudonym of Chris Baker, Clyde clearly shows the paradox of teaching. On the one hand are the joys and the rewards. He describes the fun, the laughter and the humour. We celebrate with him the pleasure and fulfilment when a pupil, sometimes years later, expresses appreciation.
The other side of the paradox, revealed in these sketches, is the frustration of unrealised potential in his pupils. Home circumstances and personal traumas stunted the growth of so many of them. Clyde’s career took him to eight of the country’s top schools - all of whom are tackling the topic of motivating adolescents in their own way with varying degrees of success. However, he leaves us with the elephant in the room – what about all the other schools in our country? How are they coping with unrealised potential?
Are there other Clyde Brosters out there? Schoolmasters in the true sense of the word – raising the bar for our boys academically in the classroom, challenging them on the sportsfield, widening their cultural horizons in film studies and theatre visits and thus by embracing all areas of school life, ensuring that they turn out to be better human beings.
Those of us who have taught for some time, will recognise similar events and incidents in our own careers. However, this is a book for anyone who loves the teaching profession – especially those who are new in the game. They will benefit greatly.
Write to bakerchris61@gmail.com for your copy. It is R130 well spent.
In the course of reading the book, you could say the same as those boys whom he took to see the Oscar winning ‘To Sir with Love’ all those years ago. ‘What a load of rubbish,’ they said to him cheerfully as they came out of the cinema.
After reading this book, we now know not to take boys’ comments too seriously.