Perspectives of a YOB

I'm a YOB. Not a Yobbo - a Young Old Boy, one of a special group of 'gentlemen of honour' having graduated from BBC a few years ago.

I loved my time at BBC. My very first teacher was one of those teachers who made a huge difference to me. He made learning fun. He also had just the right balance between fun and discipline. We knew when we had gone too far and all it took was a certain look from him to settle us down. I loved going to school because of him - having been anxious when I started, he changed everything.

He was a Christian and told us so, and referred to the Bible a bit in class. We used to roll our eyes, but it didn't bother us. My mum showed me the letter she wrote to him at the end of the year - I didn't realise how much he meant to her and the difference she saw in my confidence in that year until that moment.

The following year he left the school. He had been there for 30 years. It turned out some parents had complained that he referred to the Bible too much in class, and, from what I could gather, he was forced to resign. It may not have been as simple as that, but I remember my mum being upset about it, and crying when she heard that he had had a brain aneurism and became brain damaged, shortly after he left. We went to visit him in hospital and it was devastating to see him like that. All I remember after that is my mum being very angry about his treatment by the school and that she felt helpless to do anything about it. She said there was nowhere to turn for help the way the school was structured.

That was a long time ago and there were many other times I overheard my parents talking about the school, and expressing frustration about the way things were done. At one point I knew they considered changing schools and briefly discussed it with me. But I was happy so it didn't happen.

But, now it feels like history is repeating itself. I read the newspapers and even though my parents are now past parents, I can see the anguish they feel about our good school and other PMSA schools, being dragged through the mud because of the actions (or inaction) of those with the responsibility of running the schools. I overheard my mum telling my dad that they would not be donating any money to the Foundation until they knew exactly where the money was going.

I hope that if I'm lucky enough to have a son of my own he will go to BBC. And that the School and School Council live up to the school motto 'Let Honour Stainless Be'. I hope the PMSA no longer exists to be able to cause the anguish I've seen in my parents and that no doubt many others feel.

Enough is enough.